Hallowed Ground

Hallowed ground was burning up my feet
I was standing out in your street
Right beneath your window
Watching your candles glow
Hallowed ground was burning up my soul
I was halfway up the telephone pole
I was calling out your name
That hallowed ground will never be the same
Hallowed ground, hallowed ground
I’m standing making not a sound
Hallowed ground, hallowed ground
We got to get back on hallowed ground
Well the romance went the usual way
You’re in the kitchen with nothing left to say
There’s a child and a mortgage sleeping in our bed
I’m wide awake with these worries in my head
After all the poems and the plans
The recipes, the documents, the wedding bands
Put Mike Stinson on the stereo
These two lonely hearts need a place to go
Little bird outside our window
You said listen, he never sings the same
We listened for hours and hours
Little bird flew us away to
Our hallowed ground where our story began
Let’s make breakfast with our hallowed pots and pans
The ridge has got a dusting of snow
Let’s pack up the little one and go
Cause the little one has never seen the snow