Fog Over Appalachia

These souls came to Earth in tact, mesmerized in the lushness of youth. I never drank from the fountain. You never grew in my garden. Tell me what it's like in Birmingham. Do the streets wind like the roads in the mountains? Do the feral spirits still run from your touch? Please write me one day. I hope the leaves grow greener. Please write me one day. I hope the leaves grow greener where you stay. Past Murphy and Marble, I feel further from home. But in these hills I'll decay and become new. I buried our love deep in the garden where nothing else could grow. I can look you in the eyes and know it was never meant to be. What could have been? Now it could never be. And you feel content, So I feel content.