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William Elliott Whitmore

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William Elliott Whitmore

Everything Gets Gone

I was born in these woods
and these hills are my home
and the fields will be ready
when the springtime comes
but I'm just here for a little while
I'm just here for a little while
like a tree by the river I'm holding on
everything gets gone
everything gets gone

On the gravel road, oh about a mile down
there's an old farm house with a fence around
the windows are broken, the roof is falling in
it's never going to be a home again
like shutters in the wind I'm holding on
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everything gets gone
everything gets gone

These grave stones of the ones that were here before
they're never going to live or love any more
we're just here for a little while
we're just here for a little while
like a death bed man who can't hold on
everything gets gone
everything gets gone
everything gets gone
everything gets gone