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Awake through the night, and this flood water 'round her
Reminds her of the time
And low country boys, and their bottles without her
Though she's on their minds

Hands in black mud, at the foot of the manger
She'll always be young
And free to be wrong
A black lamb licks the dirt off her feet with his tongue

We are blessed, aren't we, in the shade of these large auburn leaves
Unexpectedly we arrive where we're all meant to be

Awake through the night, and she prays in the morning
For distance from harm
And low country boys
With their wealth of protection and mean battle-arms

Hands in black mud, as she sits by the manger
And closes her eyes
The wind blows outside
A black car pulls the gravel and wants her to ride

We are blessed, aren't we, in the shade of these large auburn leaves
Unexpectedly we arrive where we're all meant to be

So who will she love, with her head lowed like ashes
The sky lost tonight
The wind blows outside
A glass jar in the window, her shape blocks the candle light

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