John D. Berringher

Flee by the light of the moon
Flee by the light of the moon
Flee by the light of the moon
Flee by the light of the moon

Well I came from far enough, but too close to discern 
And though my countenance is rough, my name’s of no concern. 
The last place I rolled through the wolves looked like sheep. 
And the sheep looked like tombstones, from the company they keep. 
It wasn’t true, but it felt like I’d been there before. 

So I had to run away, from decay, the hills now are my home. 
A good day is a heavy rain, it covers my tracks while I roam. 
I can’t stay in one place- the sandman will find me. 
I keep my ear to the ground, and my back to the sound, and they say flee. 

Flee by the light of the moon
Flee by the light of the moon
Flee by the light of the moon
Flee by the light of the moon

Well my feet contain my rage, so I stomp them to the beat. 
If I could only find my way, I’d run towards calvary. 
I’d set a field on fire to watch the crops blaze. 
Distract my assailants, who’d keep me in a cage. 
Word to the wise: don’t blink, cause I’ll be gone. 

Wish I could find, just any old, cold peace of mind, to keep in line. The hounds are still so close behind. My scent will keep them alive. 

If I could boast, be that I’m near the other side. Let’s make a toast, for the arrival of my ghost. I think I still can make the coast.

So I had to run away, from decay, the hills now are my home. 
A good day is a heavy rain, it covers my tracks while I roam. 
I can’t stay in one place- the sandman will find me. 
I keep my ear to the ground, and my back to the sound, and they say flee. 

© 2011 Drover Shy.  All rights reserved. 

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