Hell On The Throat

A line of strands to mark the trail No one said it would be easy I must admit I thought that risk was better waged in younger seasons But all these years in the cold, play hell on my throat 'Til everything I say burns like cinders Well it's hard to belong to a girl or a song In the crease of a strangling winter It's strange to be lost Stranger still to belong on the strings of a twisting line Along the way the turns are sharp No one said they would be easy I must admit I thought the trip was better made in younger seasons But all these years in the pursuit made a man of a fool 'Til every word I say is on waver Well it's hard to belong to a girl Or a song in the case of a selfish believer It's strange to be lost Stranger still to belong on the strings of a twisting line Well it's hard to belong to a girl Or a song in the case of a selfish believer It's strange to be lost Stranger still to belong on the strings of a twisting line And when the path I have made from the grass to the grave I will love you still And when the sand turns to glass and all that's left is the past I will love you still --- Hell On The Throat - Dashboard Confessional