Chore

Oh good reasons, that’s not the Chore Oh the seasons, will change the score… The wind she lies, of what’s to come She sure brings more, or less for some Grey granite cove, a place sincere It holds a promise, bittered by fear She made up his mind, to guard that post Vengeance conspires, to hide that ghost Oh good reasons, that’s not the Chore Oh the seasons, will change the score… The seagulls climb, on salt smacked wings Big swells they rip, seem drawn by string The twilight sun, decorates the waves A lifetime of pebbles, just one to save Horizons lost, victims of fate The old way home, hope need not wait Oh good reasons, that’s not the Chore Oh the seasons, will change the score… Oh good reasons, that’s not the Chore Oh the seasons, will change the score… (Instrumental) Oh good reasons, that’s not the Chore Oh the seasons, will change the score