Collene

Black Marble

Composed by: Chris Stewart
Hear me knocking on your window slow
Don't turn around to go
I hear your doubt
I'll reply with the sins of our whole town

Your hesitation's only natural
In my younger days, I built a wall
Hiding from the favored sons outside the union hall
Don't you know they had it all?

The diltmores are dead
All the diltmores are dead
My memory's a mess
The millionaires are not impressed
You and I will make up all the rest

A stone creation never seemed so low
Don't ask me why, I don't know
Going down, you reply
Your camera hit me right between my eyes

Your insecurity seems natural
In my younger days, I knew it all
Standing tall in the bathroom stall
I had the non-believers where I want
Always holding on

The diltmores are dead
All the diltmores are dead
My memory's a mess
All the diltmores are dead

Eating alone, what's the conversation?
Everyone knows about what you said
Sitting at home, what's the conversation?
Everyone knows why you're stuck in bed

Hear me knocking on your window slow
Don't turn around to go
I hear your doubt
I'll reply with the sins of our whole town
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