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Jessica Pratt
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Mountain'r Lower
Well the bed lies empty, Lord I see your head hanging low with the bottle told
Well inside was nowhere to hide, no where to hide them
And inside was no where to hide, nowhere to hide them
If you'd called or helped
Heavy heart flame from the bed that rains for the raiders comming down when the game spun round
Keep me darling in your darkest hours like a mother made of stone
He sings low for the long pour there's a hundred mighty men or more
And his eyes were so fixed on light, so fixed fixed on the light
That right hand guide him too low, guide him to down home
If he comes home, home, home and do wrong, wrong wrong
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