After 47 days they left well enough alone.
The cops and the reporters have all gone home.
All that's left is legends and stories to be told.
Tired of all the questions.
Tired of all the calls.
Tired of explaining myself
against the wall.
Funny how tragedy brings out the best in everyone.
Standing on the shoreline, burning candles in the rain.
I don't wanna hear that garbage anymore.
Watching all the flowers as they're rolling down
the James.
The dead can rest forevermore if the creek don't rise again.
Love burns brightest all dressed up in black with summertime just around the bend.
You handle your grief and I'll deal with mine.
We'll all get along just fine.
After 47 days they left well enough alone.
The cops and the reporters have all gone home.
All that's left is legends and stories to
be told.
And I know that they're out there.
I know they're watching me and they wait for me to give myself away.
But there's just a few secrets between the river and me.