The Dying Kind

From the earth, you were made To the earth, you returned And I'll always speak your name Let it burn, let it burn Chase them before running oceans can sting Bathe in holy water, drown until you sing Til you sing Stand there in the garden, [?] in the trees Taste the good and evil, fall down on your knees In front of me Every rose has its thorn; every thorn has its crown We're all the dying kind Every rose has its thorn; every thorn has its crown We're all the dying kind Bow your head in silence, in shadows pray Lay down in the darkness; let it see your face Don't be afraid Every rose has its thorn; every thorn has its crown We're all the dying kind Every rose has its thorn; every thorn has its crown We're all the dying kind From the earth, you were made To the earth, you returned And I'll always speak your name Let it burn, let it burn --- The Dying Kind - Joy Williams