Three
Hits - Amy Ray
Three hits to the heart
son
And it's poetry in motion
One could send you down the
river
Three's a strange way to be
delivered
Would you trade your words
for freedom
That's a barter for a blind
man
Three hits to the heart son
And it's poetry in motion
Are you leveed like a treasure
Only words can help me find
you
And this world's a fickle
measure
I will painfully remind you
From a wise man to your red
hand
You lay covered in our best
sins
Three hits to the heart son
And it's poetry in motion
Well I dream you constant stranger
With your best bloods and
your anger
You say mother do you claim
me
My beloved do you blame me
Well the first two might release
you
But the last one sings in
me son
Three hits to the heart son
And it's poetry in motion
Three hits to the heart son
And the last one sings in
me