Glory Songtext

David Berkeley

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Glory Songtext
When the rains fall, man they fall hard.
Seems they might wash us away.
In Georgia, the earth feels so thin.
It feels like the trees may fall down.

But I hold on to you. I hold on to you.

Glory, make your own bed.
Let me lie down on my own.
And fire, burn down my back.
Take these possessions, too.

'Cause I hold on to you. I hold on to you.

And I'm sorry I'm not all those things.
But I'm doing the best that I can.
So don't let go of me. Don't let go of me.
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