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High Low

de Joshua James

I sold my ships away for a dime that I can't save.
Now this love I've made isn't real.
Shelter me, dearest lord, from this habit I can't break.
I've turned my back on you.
Now this road back home has froze.
Are you well, are you well my Annabelle, Annabelle?
Are you well, are you well my Annabelle, Annabelle?
Cuz I wish you well!
I traveled with a long suitcase and a busted picture frame that shows the piano we played in the dark.
Then he sold you away to the darkest of the stage, put tight shackles around your heart.
Now I swear, Love, I never left'

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