The Difference Between (ft. Melody Walker & Chris Housman)
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

*co-written with Melody Walker & Chris Housman

Megan McCormick - electric guitar, acoustic guitar
Ellen Angelico - electric guitar
Jen Gunderman - Wurlitzer
Ryan Madora - bass
Megan Coleman - drums
BGVs - Melody Walker, Chris Housman, Kyshona, Nickie Conley

v1. You say wanna build a wall — well OK, let's build a wall
around you and yours so you can figure out
it ain’t just your town that’s small.
See, I grew up country too
so tell me what’s your excuse
for that back handed, hand-me-down,
downright dangerous point of view

pre.ch. ‘cause the hate you give is gonna tell on you,
and the way you live, yeah it will too.
We gotta get on the same page, the same team
if America’s gonna be more than a dream.

ch. Oooh, ooh
the difference between me and you.
We’re as country as we want to be
without all the hate and the bigotry.

Oooh, ooh
It’s time that we try something new. I’m ready to make room.
To tell you the truth,
that’s the difference between me and you.

v2. You say you wanna send 'em back —
well I'd like to send you back,
back in time so you can realize
those lies you learned weren't facts.
See, I'm from the South like you,
so tell me what's your excuse
— it's right or wrong not left or right, and it sure ain't red or blue.

pre.ch. No, There ain't no shame in what you don't know,
but close-mind-denying ain't how you grow
Is it a .... dis-course, a civil war,
or do we believe we're worth a little bit more?

ch.

You-oooh, me and you-oooh

The Rev. - words of wisdom
*music from The Bigger Picture

OK
lessons I've learned
from putting puzzles together:

One, a lot of people like to start
with their borders,
and so you're working from the outside in.

Second, you try to pick out all the pieces —
if I can find all the pieces of the sky,
I may start there, put the sky together.

If there's a blue dress
then look for all the pieces of
the blue dress.

You have the box as a guide,
and we all need guides in our lives.

And I think each puzzle presents
its own challenges.
Oh that looks like that will fit here,
and we're so happy when it does fit.
Sometimes it look like it will fit exactly,
and it doesn't fit.
You're looking at how pieces will
fit together and you're looking at
the pattern of one or two pieces.
And you can almost see instantly
where it's going to fit.

That is what I will offer.

Oooh puzzles —
it would take me forever
to write out everything but,
for now, I love you, babygirl.

Bye bye.

Good luck with the song!

The Bigger Picture
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI
*co-written with Roberta Lea

Megan McCormick - acoustic guitar, lap steel
Ellen Angelico - electric guitar, acoustic guitar
Jen Gunderman - Wurlitzer
Michael Majett - bass
Megan Coleman - percussion
BGVs - Kyshona, Nickie Conley
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

When my mama retired,
she didn't have much of a plan.
She said, “I'm gonna learn to take it easy,
I'm gonna find joy where I can.
There's so much in this life
that I don't understand —
just give me peace and quiet,
and something to do with my hands.”

Well she found that something
in a little cardboard box,
a thousand pieces before her
each one a new lesson taught:
first, don’t be scared to start over
as many times as it takes you —
the challenge lies in the patience
to see it through.

Day by day,
minute by minute,
inside out
or outside in,
you won’t understand the whys,
but the whys have their reasons.
You won’t see the bigger picture
until you sort out all the pieces.

Sometimes knowing the outcome
doesn't make getting there easy,
so you just lay it all out on the table —
you'll work it out eventually.
With some sorting and sifting,
the patterns appear.
She said, slowly but surely
the rest seems clear.

Day by day,
minute by minute,
inside out
or outside in,
you won’t understand the whys,
but the whys have their reasons.
You won’t see the bigger picture
until you sort out all the pieces.

Now she’s had plenty of bright spots,
and more than her share of the dark.
She’s done a little falling in love,
she’s done some falling apart.
But, she says, all things work together
(the big and the small)
for good in your life
and, babygirl, all means all.

So when a piece won’t fit,
at least not like you thought it should,
when your way gets hard,
when you feel lost in the woods,
know you’re a work in progress
with lessons to find,
you're a thousand-piece puzzle
and puzzles take time.

Oklahoma Sunset
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

Megan McCormick - lap steel
Ellen Angelico - electric guitar, pedal steel 
Jen Gunderman - piano
Larissa Maestro - strings
Ryan Madora - bass
Megan Coleman - percussion
BGVs - Heather Mae

Mid-July Friday night,
side by side, your hand in mine.
Just carrying on like we do,
but I couldn't take my eyes off of you.
She's beautiful always —
if I'm watching or not, if I do or don't say.
Even when the storm is rolling in,
it doesn't stop her light from shining.

She's an Oklahoma sunset
on a summer night,
stop dead in my tracks
just to bask in her light.
Oh, she keeps me breathless,
her glory is endless.
I hope her light never fades.
She's how I wanna end every day.

When I come home from a long day,
the sight of her takes it all away.
Just sitting on the back porch taking her in
is enough to ease all my worrying.
She's got a warmth about her that soothes me,
a glow all around her that moves me.
Even when the storm is rolling in,
it doesn't stop her light from shining.

She's an Oklahoma sunset
on a summer night,
stop dead in my tracks
just to bask in her light.
Oh, she keeps me breathless,
her glory is endless.
I hope her light never fades.
She's how I wanna end every day.

She's cool like the twilight
blue in the sky
'til the pink hits her cheeks
on those red-hot nights,
but my favorite part
is her golden heart.

She's an Oklahoma sunset
on a summer night,
stop dead in my tracks
just to bask in her light.
Oh, she keeps me breathless,
her glory is endless.
I hope her light never fades.
She's how I want to end every day.

I wanna end every day this way

Clumsy
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

I can be clumsy,
can trip and fall over my words.
I don't get it right as often as I'd like
when it comes to you.

I can be clumsy,
can swing hard for the fence and miss.
Sometimes best-laid plans slip right through my hands
when it comes to you.

But practice makes perfect
I promise you I'm worth it,
so don't give up
on me now.

But practice makes perfect
I promise you I'm worth it,
so don't give up
on me now.

I can be clumsy,
can read the room so very wrong.
I can be that fool rushing in too soon
when it comes to you.

I can be clumsy,
can lose track of the time or date.
I hate missing your call, I hate dropping the ball
when it comes to you.

But practice makes perfect
I promise you I'm worth it,
so don't give up
on me now.

But practice makes perfect
I promise you I'm worth it,
so don't give up
on me now.

One foot in front of the other.
When the road gets shaky, we lean on each other.
If I fall, give me a chance to recover,
and if I fall again give me another.

One foot in front of the other.
When the road gets shaky, we lean on each other.
If I fall, give me a chance to recover,
and if I fall again give me another.

But practice makes perfect
I promise you I'm worth it,
so don't give up
on me now.

But practice makes perfect
I promise you I'm worth it,
so don't give up
on me now.

Like Jesus Would
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

In my hometown, there's a church on every block,
sanctified folks who'd much rather pray for you than talk.
They cherry-pick the good Word and hold on to the bad parts,
so they can willfully ignore every lesson Jesus taught.
But in a town I'd never been to before
I saw a church that made me wanna run right through its doors.
I could tell just by the outside I'd be met with open arms,
folks spreading the good news with open minds and open hearts.

Pride flags flyin' for all to see,
"Black Lives Matter" on the church marquis.
Bet they don't just pray when the sick take ill,
or just send thoughts when another gun kills.
I bet they vote like Jesus would,
like the choice they make might do some good
for somebody.
That's my kind, my kind of Christianity.

Somebody said, if Jesus came back now,
half the Christians in this country would try to crucify him somehow.
They'd call him a "liberal," and hurl "woke" like a slur,
they'd take one look at his brown skin, and then probably call him worse.
So this one's for those fishers of men,
not the people putting 'evil' in evangelical again:
"Love one another," his commandment from the start,
so keep spreading the good news with open minds and open hearts.

Pride flags flyin' for all to see,
"Black Lives Matter" on the church marquis.
Bet they don't just pray when the sick take ill,
or just send thoughts when another gun kills.
I bet they vote like Jesus would,
like the choice they make might do some good
for somebody.
That's my kind, my kind of Christianity.

[musical interlude]

Pride flags flyin' for all to see,
"Black Lives Matter" on the church marquis.
Bet they don't just pray when the sick take ill,
or just send thoughts when another gun kills.
I bet they vote like Jesus would,
like the choice they make might do some good
for somebody.
Yeah, that's my kind, my kind of Christianity.

Suit and Tie
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

They were a boy
until they realized that wasn't them at all.
Never felt like one or the other
of those decals that assign us to a bathroom stall.
They turned 18,
went to court, paid the fees, chose a new name to be called.
They were a boy
until they realized that wasn't them at all.

I've been a girl
from as far back as my memory recalls.
Never looked much like the others —
I was always too big, always too tall.
Loved Carolina blue,
loved my He-man shoes and playing basketball.
I've been a girl
from as far back as my memory recalls.

This world is a mess,
and it's getting worse as days go by,
uncivil unrest
about who's and girl and who's a guy,
but this heart beating in my chest
knows the truth I can't deny:
I might look good in a dress,
but I feel better in a suit and tie.

He's been a boy
from as far back as his memory recalls.
Never looked much like the others —
he was always too soft, always too small.
Loved to dance and sing,
and cut up fashion magazines for all his paper dolls.
He's been a boy
from as far back as his memory recalls.

She's been a girl
since before she knew the word "trans" at all.
Never felt much like the others
trapped inside the casket confines of their gender's walls.
Moved to Tennessee
now she's so scared she can barely breathe from all their hateful laws.
She's been a girl
since before she knew the word trans at all.

This world is a mess,
and it's getting worse as days go by,
uncivil unrest
about who's and girl and who's a guy,
but this heart beating in my chest
knows the truth I can't deny:
I might look good in a dress,
but I feel better in a suit and tie.

Yeah, I look good in a dress,
but I look better in a suit and tie.

Some Roads (ft. Shannon LaBrie)
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

Some folks are just speed bumps
in your rearview —
You gotta learn to keep it moving
when you need to.
They come from
out of nowhere
just to slow you down
without a care.
Sometimes in life
you will find

some roads you leave alone —
there's a reason they're less traveled on.
Some roads feel like home —
every twist and turn you know
like the back of your hand
even in the dark with your eyes closed.
Yeah, some roads feel like home.

Some folks are like white lines
on a highway —
they try to keep you on your path
if you start to stray.
When trouble
seems to find you,
they'll be the first ones to remind you
to keep both your hands
on the wheel.

some roads you leave alone —
there's a reason they're less traveled on.
Some roads feel like home —
every twist and turn you know
like the back of your hand
even in the dark with your eyes closed.
Yeah, some roads feel like home.

And it's 100,00 miles
between now and that old life,
between what I had and what I needed
but didn't know 'til I was leaving.

Some roads you leave alone —
there's a reason they're less traveled on.
Some roads feel like home —
every twist and turn you know
like the back of your hand
even in the dark with your eyes closed.
Yeah, some roads feel like home.

Some roads you leave alone —
there's a reason they're less traveled on.
Some roads feel like home —
every twist and turn you know
like the back of your hand
even in the dark with your eyes closed.
Yeah, some roads feel like home.

Home

Some roads feel like home.

Home

Some folks are just speed bumps
in your rearview —
you gotta learn to keep it moving
when you need to.
And some folks are like white lines
on a highway —
they try to keep you on your path
if you start to stray.

Cancel Culture
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

There's a whole lot in our culture I'd cancel if I could:
instead of banning books, I'd ban gerrymandering for good;
the rich would feed the poor like the good Lord said they should;
and every child (without exception) would feel loved and understood.
No more whitewashing our history when the truth will set us free.
No more watching corporate profits soar while people sink into poverty.
No more telling kids they're flawed because you think that your god would.
There's a whole lot in our culture I'd cancel if I could.

There's a whole lot in our culture we should cancel right away:
instead of banning saying gay, we should ban racist holidays;
teachers should get to teach without worrying about their pay
or if they'll have an active shooter that they'll have to keep at bay.
No more kids in bulletproof-backpacks — it's a school, not a war.
No more pretending that machine guns are what the 2nd amendment was for.
No more doing nothing because it's easier most days.
Yeah, there's a whole lot in our culture we should cancel right away.

There's a whole lot in our culture we could cancel if we tried:
instead of banning abortions, we could trust women to decide;
every size and shape of body could be normalized;
and every type of mental illness could finally be destigmatized.
No more squeezing and contorting into boxes we don't fit.
No more saying that we're fine when we're not but scared to admit it.
No more telling little boys, "it's better not to cry."
Yeah, there's a whole lot in our culture we could cancel if we tried.

We've been marching in these streets singing We Shall Overcome,
praying all the world would give up all their bombs and all their guns.
I just want peace of every kind for the whole world tonight,
and to believe Martin was right —
we can drive out the darkness with the light.

Drive out the darkness.
Drive out the darkness.

We can drive out the darkness with the light.

Drive out the darkness.
Drive out the darkness.

We can drive out the darkness with the light.

Drive out the darkness.
Drive out the darkness.

We can drive out the darkness with the light.

Drive out the darkness.
Drive out the darkness.

We can drive out the darkness with the light.

In Her House
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

He tells her that she never does
anything right,
so she tries even harder
to be the perfect wife.
He gets so jealous anytime
she goes out with friends.
Never seems to be satisfied
unless she's alone with him.

All her family, all her neighbors,
they don't have a clue
what happens in her house
or what she's going through.

When the doors close,
when the lights go out,
you don't know
what happens in her house.
Is he a good dad, but a bad man?
When he gets mad, does he lay hands?
In her house of broken things,
nothing is what it seems.

He calls her every name in the book
except darlin'
'til she says yes to all the dark things
he takes part in.
He tells her, "one more drink"
even when she's had enough.
Keeps her underneath his thumb
when it comes to money stuff.

Nobody around her
seems to have a clue
what happens in her house
or what she's going through.

When the doors close,
when the lights go out,
you don't know
what happens in her house.
Is he a good dad, but a bad man?
when he gets mad, does he lay hands?
In her house of broken things,
nothing is what it seems.

So convinced that it's her fault,
too scared to leave, too scared to call.
So many women dead and gone
at the hands of a lover or love gone wrong.

When the doors close,
when the lights go out,
you don't know
what happens in her house.
Is he a good dad, but a bad man?
when he gets mad, does he lay hands?
In her house of broken things,
nothing is what it seems.

Nothing is what it seems.

Nothing is what it seems.

I Want it All
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

Your dark parts,
they don't scare me.
The heaviness that weighs you down
isn't more than I can carry.
Believe me
when I say,
I choose you time and time again.
You're my favorite on your worst days.

You're not too much,
for me.
There isn't any inch of you
that I don't wanna see.

I want your easy, your hard parts too,
every little thing that makes the whole of you.
I want your fire, I want your rain
all your mess, all your pain
When you're flying high,
or when you fall
I want it all.

You've got scars.
You've got baggage,
but I can promise you right now
it isn't more than I can manage.
When I tell you
that I've got you
it means I'll be right there by your side
through every low and every high.

You're not too much,
for me.
There isn't any inch of you
that I don't wanna see.

I want your easy, your hard parts too,
every little thing that makes the whole of you.
I want your fire, I want your rain
all your mess, all your pain
When you're flying high,
or when you fall
I want it all.

Your big dreams, your nightmares
your quiet calm, and your wild hairs —
you're always keeping me on my toes,
and if you're loving somebody right,
that's how it goes.

You're not too much,
for me.
There isn't any inch of you
that I don't wanna see.

I want your easy, your hard parts too,
every little thing that makes the whole of you.
I want your fire, I want your rain
all your mess, all your pain
When you're flying high,
or when you fall
I want it all.

I want it all.

Red
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

There's more red in the trees than there was last week,
but not much in the trees in Tennessee.
That's where you are.
It feels so far.

I've been resting my head on a hundred different pillows.
This old road is finally taking its toll on me.
I don't mean to be
taking a toll on you.

It's so cold in Massachusetts where I am.
I just want to be holding your hand
and in your arms,
but they seem so far.

I've been counting the miles and the hours like they're sheep.
The last time I saw you is the last time I had real sleep.
I don't mean to be
taking it out on you.

I'm sky high and southbound, now you're headed west.
Can't wrap my mind 'round this hole in my chest.
It's so hard —
you're still so far.

I wish that I knew how to do this much better, but
broken hearts just don't mix with cold weather, baby —
I don't mean to be
taking mine out on you.

I'm having a hard time lately.
It feels like I'm going crazy
from missing your touch.
I miss you so much.

There's more red in the trees than there was last week,
but still not much in the trees in Tennessee.
That's where you are.
It feels so far.

The Good Stuff (ft. Heather Mae)
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

*co-written with Heather Mae
Ellen Angelico - acoustic guitar, mandolin, banjo
Megan McCormick - electric guitar
Michael Majett - bass
Megan Coleman – drums

Our love
is that sneak-up-on-you kind.
We were friends, then more than friends, and
then
I couldn't get you off my mind.
Our love,
ain't a fairytale or bedtime story,
it's a Broadway play with joy and worry.
If you love hard, you fight hard for it.
It's saying yes to forever
not knowing what tomorrow might bring.
It's "for better or worse"
with or without the ring.

Our love
doesn't have to look like everybody else's.
It suits us
and, when things get rough,
it's not too much
'cause we've got just enough,
just enough
of all the good stuff
the good stuff
the good stuff.

Our love
is that Sunday morning kind.
It's barefoot dancing and cancelling plans
'cause we're busy wasting time.
Oh our love
wasn't in the books or on the silver screen.
They tried to tell us how it had to be,
but they don’t know about you and me
saying yes to forever
not knowing what tomorrow might bring.
It's "for better or worse"
with or without the ring.

Our love
doesn't have to look like everybody else's.
It suits us
and, when things get rough,
it's not too much
'cause we've got just enough,
just enough
of all the good stuff.

When the ground gives out,
when the world gets too loud,
when I’m filled with doubt,
when I’m lost in the crowd,
you’re steady like a heartbeat,
like I’ve got you like you’ve got me.
You’ve got me.
You’ve got me.

Our love
doesn't have to look like everybody else's.
It suits us
and, when things get rough,
it's not too much.

Our love
doesn't have to look like everybody else's.
It suits us
and, when things get rough,
it's not too much
'cause we've got just enough,
just enough
of all the good stuff
the good stuff
the good stuff.

Our love
is that sneak-up-on-you kind.
We were friends, then more than friends, and
then
I couldn't get you off my mind...

My Skin (ft. Kyshona)
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

Have you ever
been afraid
to walk home
in your own neighborhood
in the light of day?
Have you ever
been made
to prove that you belong
and then be wronged
for what you say?

Is my skin
so egregious to them?
Tell me, when,
when will it end?

I don't want your thoughts and prayers
and I don't want your tears,
I just want to be able
to live my life without fear.

Have you ever
been doing your job
and made somebody mad enough
to form a violent mob?
Have you ever
been robbed
of your peace when some coward
calls you the worst word
you've been called?

Is my skin
so egregious to them?
Tell me, when,
when will it end?

I don't want your thoughts and prayers
and I don't want your tears,
I just want to be able
to live my life without fear.

Have you ever
been so tired
from mourning the dead
so many times
that you can't cry?
Have you ever
been so despised
that a stranger
would give up freedom
if it meant ending your life?

Is my skin
that egregious to them?
Tell me, when,
when will it end?

I don't want your thoughts and prayers
and I don't want your tears,
I just want to be able
to live my life without fear
to live my life without fear
to live my life without fear.

Sister’s Keeper
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

Rage is like fire —
it's warm until it's hot, it's quiet 'til it's not.
And these days, they require
all the can't-stop-won't-stop rage that you've got.
Every time we catch our breath,
they try harder to choke out what we've got left.
And it's a mad, mad, world
if you're a woman or a girl.
They don't see us,
they don't hear us
'til they fear us,
'til they fear us.

And I know, I know, I know
this world is hard on you,
but come on, come on, come on,
we've got work to do.
Pay her what she's worth!
Say that you believe her,
that "it's her body, her choice" (not yours)!
Be your sister's keeper.

Be your sister's keeper.
Be your sister's keeper.

Rage is like fire —
you can't tell how far it's spread
'til you're in over your head.
And these flames, they burn higher
like a phoenix, wings spread, rising, back from the dead.
Every time we think we're safe,
oh, they carve and they chip another one of our rights away.
And it's a mad, mad, world
if you're a woman or a girl.
They don't see us,
they don't hear us
'til they fear us,
and they better fear us.

And I know, I know, I know
this world is hard on you,
but come on, come on, come on,
we've got work to do.
Pay her what she's worth!
Say that you believe her,
that "it's her body, her choice" (not yours)!
Be your sister's keeper.

Be your sister's keeper.

Lozen and Wilma,
and Sojourner Truth,
Ella Baker, Rosa,
Sonya and Ruth —
we are the warriors now like we've always been.
These are extraordinary times, we were made for them.
Liberty and justice aren't just birthrights for men
when our foremothers' grit bought and paid for them.

And I know, I know, I know
this world is hard on you,
but come on, come on, come on,
we've got work to do.
Pay her what she's worth!
Say that you believe her,
that "it's her body, her choice" (not yours)!
Be your sister's keeper.
Be your sister's keeper.
Be your sister's keeper.
Be your sister's keeper.
Be your sister's keeper.
Be your sister's keeper.

Rage is like fire —
it's warm until it's hot,
it's quiet
'til it's not.

CA/GA
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

Same city, same time,
might as well be 6,000 mi.
Can't get you out of my head.
Can't get you in my bed.
I thought this would be simple,
thought that I'd be staring into
those hazel eyes
but it's just me, myself, and I tonight.

It's not a chase
'cause you want me like I want you,
it's just Fate
playing games 'cause she wants to.

I'm in California
with Georgia on my mind
wishing I could hold her
just for tonight,
but the stars never seem to
line up right,
so I'm in California
with Georgia on my mind.

Last night, I called just
to see what you thought was wrong with us.
Is it only me who thinks
there's something here that we can't see?
I'm patient, but I'm human,
wondering if you're an illusion.
This ain't how it's supposed to be,
but it's how it goes with you and me.

It's not a chase
'cause you want me like I want you,
it's just Fate
playing games 'cause she wants to.

I'm in California
with Georgia on my mind
wishing I could hold her
just for tonight,
but the stars never seem to
line up right,
so I'm in California
with Georgia on my mind.

Seems like the same thing
just keeps right on happening
again, again, and again —
I don't want to just be friends.
I hear you when you say
you don't want to walk away.
It's OK, it's alright —
honey, God knows we tried.

It's not a chase
'cause you want me like I want you,
it's just Fate
playing games 'cause she wants to.

I'm in California
with Georgia on my mind
wishing I could hold her
just for tonight,
but the stars never seem to
line up right,
so I'm in California
with Georgia on my mind.

[musical interlude]

It's not a chase
'cause you want me like I want you,
it's just Fate
playing games 'cause she wants to.

I'm in California
with Georgia on my mind
wishing I could hold her
just for tonight,
but the stars never seem to
line up right,
no, the stars never seem to
line up right,
so I'm in California
with Georgia on my mind.

Same city, same time.
Might as well be 6,000 mi.

Waking Up the Dead
Music and lyrics by Crys Matthews
© BMI

There's a name etched on a gravestone —
it's as old as the shade tree high above those bones.
400 years in Pennsylvania
trembling at the word of God not the men who'd rather change 'em.
Well now, time settles scores but not the cold, cold ground.
I can feel it shift beneath my feet as I'm walking around.
And I'm minding my steps, oh my eyes are wide
wondering who they were when they were alive.

Dirt on my soles from a graveyard stroll
picking up pieces of the past,
and the ghosts don't scare me in this cemetery, no, no,
they're singing, "Freedom! Freedom at last!"

Guess solid ground ain't what it should be,
not for all those granite slabs sinking underneath that tree,
not for a house built upon slavery.
They kept telling us to wait but never's all wait ever means.
Well now, some chose the greed, they chose the greater good,
and they're gathering around me as I stand right where they stood.
And I'm minding my steps, oh my eyes are wide,
and I know who they were when they were alive.

Dirt on my soles from a graveyard stroll
picking up pieces of the past,
and the ghosts don't scare me in this cemetery, no, no,
they're singing, "Freedom! Freedom at last!"

Abolitionists and Quakers
peeking through the veil to see the fruits of their labor.
400 years in Pennsylvania (mmhmm)
six feet underground, but still steady as an anchor.
So now, I sense a hand upon my shoulder.
I'm waking up the dead and the air is getting colder.
And I'm minding my steps, oh my eyes are wide,
and I am who I am 'cause they were alive.

Dirt on my soles from a graveyard stroll
picking up pieces of the past,
and the ghosts don't scare me in this cemetery, no, no,
they're singing, "Freedom! Freedom at last!"

"Freedom! Freedom at last!"
"Freedom! Freedom at last!"