调：G# minor•
Verse 1
and you're all alone
And you need a little guidance to make it
home
A devil waits outside the lighted edge
And it's a calm too quiet
inside of your head
When the night grows dark
and the ground grows cold
And the indigo sky and the moon of gold
And is it real or is it not?
Well it's over and over like a hippie pop
B
G#m
I say rumble, rumble like ten pins blown
And left off to die,
oh it's the gospel moan
G#m
D#
G#m
the hill like cone
Rumble, rumble, let the moths get grown
When the road is loosed
and your throat can't sing
And your eyes can't close
on a single thing
And the walls closing like sable grates
Are you trying to slip
through those raven gates?
I say rumble, rumble like ten fans blown
And left of the dial is the gospel moan
let the moss get grown
And you hear the smell
gettin' wold and slow
Dances like a translucent asp
And neither
God, no time, no night will take you right
Or all this trouble can't be made alive
When your body is weary
and your spirit weak
Your meat's about grown
to prayer as you speak
Your white hand's out there
like a houseless ghost
And you're looking over
there for signs of hope
I say rumble, rumble like ten pins blown
And left of the dial is the gospel moan
who make it hard
That's right
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