Bill Miller Pile Of Stones lyrics

Garbage fires, worn out tires
Dull jackknives, broken lives
Starts and stops at old pawn shops
Boys first fish, drunkards wish

Thoughts of war behind a motel door
Strangers touch on a broken crutch
Old man sing under an eagles wing
Cigarette spark, stray dog bark

As long as the grasses grow
And the four winds blow
I feel your prayers from home
In this pile of stones

Old bike frames, the candles flame
High school dance, never had a chance
Fly off in a rage like a bird in a cage
Baptized in the water, death of my father


Sun goes down on this part of town
Boxer's fist, junkie's wrist
Deserted tracks, I ain't goin' back
Buffalo bones, old grave stones

As long as the grasses grow
And the four winds blow
I feel your prayers from home
In this pile of stones, stones, stones

As long as the grasses grow
And the four winds blow
I feel your prayers from home
In this pile of stones
In this pile of stones
In this pile of stones