And now I know the only compass that I need
Is the one leads back to you
And I know the only compass that I need
Is the one leads back to you.
And the burning blisters on my feet will call
To hold me as I'm close to fall
Away from the home of your arms I stray
Off the radar and into harm's way.
Now I know the only compass that I need
Is the one that leads back to you.
Yea coffee wakes the hand again
Coaxing letters from the pen
But words just sit like empty scribbles
Such empty caffeinated riddles.
Only a heart knows where I've been
Only a heart knows where I've been
Only your heart knows where I've been.
Now I know the only compass that I need
Is the one leads back to you
Now I know the only compass that I need
Is the one leads back to you.
Only your heart knows where I've been
Low down, low down, low down in the westside of town
Can't hold my head up high so I'm licking the ground
Tasting my dirt cries and drinking their sound
Low low westside of town.
Needing to tease out the knots and the tangles
Join up the dots, find the yolk in the scrambles
Find a soft clearing somewhere in the shambles
Take a knife to the bush of brambles
And clear the way.
Is the one leads back to you
And I know the only compass that I need
Is the one leads back to you.
And the burning blisters on my feet will call
To hold me as I'm close to fall
Away from the home of your arms I stray
Off the radar and into harm's way.
Now I know the only compass that I need
Is the one that leads back to you.
Yea coffee wakes the hand again
Coaxing letters from the pen
But words just sit like empty scribbles
Such empty caffeinated riddles.
Only a heart knows where I've been
Only a heart knows where I've been
Only your heart knows where I've been.
Now I know the only compass that I need
Is the one leads back to you
Now I know the only compass that I need
Is the one leads back to you.
Only your heart knows where I've been
Low down, low down, low down in the westside of town
Can't hold my head up high so I'm licking the ground
Tasting my dirt cries and drinking their sound
Low low westside of town.
Needing to tease out the knots and the tangles
Join up the dots, find the yolk in the scrambles
Find a soft clearing somewhere in the shambles
Take a knife to the bush of brambles
And clear the way.