Gregory Alan Isakov – second chances

I’m some sick hound
Digging for bones
If it weren’t for second chances,
we’d all be alone
My hands they were strangers
lost in the night
They’re waving around in the dusty light
I’m waiting in the wings
while the trees undress
Cupping my ear to hear the wind confess
I’m a ghost in the garden
Scaring the crows
If it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be alone
I’m running from nothing,
no thoughts in my mind
Oh my heart was all black
But I saw something shine
Thought that part was yours,
but it might just be mine
I could share it with you,
if you gave me the time
I’m all bloody knuckles,
longing for home
If it weren’t for second chances, we’d all be alone
I’m a shot through the dark
I’m a black sinkhole
If it weren’t for second chances,
we’d all be alone