Silas Crowe - Every Saint’s Got A Past (feat. Ghost Lee Waters)

The river don’t judge what it carries away, Bones or bottles, they all look the same. I’ve thrown my share in, and I’ve watched ‘em sink, Every prayer I forgot, every time I couldn’t think. Every saint’s got a past, every sinner’s got a dream, I ain’t clean, but I’m tryin’ to be seen. Some nights I crawl, some nights I stand, With a harp in my mouth and a tremblin’ hand. I’ve loved too wild and I’ve left too soon, Talked to God through a payphone moon. Said, “I ain’t your prophet, just a broke-down man,” He hung up soft, but I still understand. Every saint’s got a past, every sinner’s got a dream, I ain’t clean, but I’m tryin’ to be seen. Grace don’t come cheap, and truth don’t stay, But I keep blowin’ that blues to keep the dark away. There’s mercy in the mud if you dig just right, There’s peace in the bottle when you lose the fight. But I’m learnin’ slow what the quiet means, How to live between the wrongs and the in-betweens. “Show ‘em how to play Ghost.” Every saint’s got a past, every sinner’s got a dream, I ain’t clean, but I’m tryin’ to be seen. If I don’t find heaven, I’ll still find grace, With these blues on my breath and the truth at my own pace.