There was a stream that ran right through my father's land,
but when I go back it won't be there anymore.
Cold and dark and black - river runs through children's hands,
fragile memories that won't be there anymore.
black river
black river won't be there anymore
I recall a broken man reaching for my father's hand,
fighting to remember what won't be there anymore.
Cold and dark and black - river runs through children's hands,
fragile memories that won't be there anymore.