Foot Of The Manger Lyrics

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 it�s 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

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