From the gullies of Atlanta
To the plains states, where we pray
I can measure all the distance
By the way she says my name
She gets solace holdin on to me
She gets soulless holdin on to me
It gets dark along the road at night
With freeways passin by
It gets dark and cold and full of sighs
Up above you in the sky
And she gets solace holdin on to me
We make the constellations out of her beauty marks
We make the constellations out of the falling stars
Beg
Pray
Beg prey