Father had a burning soul
Go on
Drank himself into a hole with no way out
He wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t a bad man
Father had a burning soul
Go on
He could’ve, should’ve loved ’em all one by one
He wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t a bad man
In his defense, he never asked to be born
He seemed content to see the world with his eyes closed
Now I’ve got a burning soul
What now?
Both ends of my prayer candle are burned out
In my defense, I was raised by a blind man on fire
Who was raised to lip-sync in his church choir
So I’m not a saint and I’m not a singer
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
Sign in to post the first listener note. Reporting stays open to everyone.