You are the light, a way.
That they will only read about.
What are they going to do when the lights go down?
Without you to guide them all to Zion?
What are they going to do when the rivers overrun?
Other than tremble incessantly.
This little light of mine,
The gift you passed onto me.
I'll let it shine,
To guide you safely on your way.
Your way home.
Eye on the T.V.
'Cause tragedy thrills me.
Whatever flavor it happens to be like…
Killed by the husband...
Drowned by the ocean…
Shot by his own son…
She used the poison in his tea and kissed him goodbye.
That's my kinda' story.
It's no fun 'til someone dies.