By Buddy Miller Capo 1 It's the much It's these sandpaper eyes, it's the way they rub the luster from what is seen It's the way we tell ourselves that all these things are normal till we can't remember what we mean It's the flicker of our flames, it's the friction born of living It's the way we beat a hot retreat and heave our smoking guns into the river Chorus Hey yea-e-eh It's the quick-step march of history, the vanity of nations It's the way there'll be no muffled drums to mark the (allcountrytabs.com)
