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Hell On The Throat
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Dashboard Confessional
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1
A line of strands to mark the trail
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No one said it would be easy
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I must admit I thought the risk
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Was better waged in younger seasons
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And all these years in the cold play hell on the throat
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'Till everything I say burns like cinders
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Well, it's hard to belong to a girl or a song
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In the crease of a strangling winter
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It's strange to be lost, stranger to belong
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On the strings of a twisting line
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Along the way the turns are sharp
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No one said it would be easy
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I must admit, I thought the trip
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Was better made in the younger seasons
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But all these years in pursuit made a man of a fool
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'Till every word I say is unwavered
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Well, it's hard to belong to a girl or a song
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In the case of a selfish believer
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It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong
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On the strings of a twisting line
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Well it's hard to belong to a girl or a song
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In the case of a selfish believer
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It's strange to be lost, stranger still to belong
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On the strings of a twisting line
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And when the path I have made from the grass to the grave
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I will love you still
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And when the sand turns to glass and all that's left is the past
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I will love you still
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