Who Hung The Moon
Jonathan O'neal / Zachry Chance Bearden
She walks out with the wind
The psilocybin it starts to kick in
She gives it away with a glance and a grin
Before she leaves the room
I am young as a child
Resting my head on the pillow, I smile
Lost in the moment I hold it awhile
Before she's gone too soon
Staring at stars and trying my hand
Thinking the thoughts of a useless man
Young and wild and growing old too soon
And asking the questions like who hung the moon
Under a blanket of infinite time
Drunk on the year and the taste of the wine
Young and wild and growing old too soon
And asking the questions like who hung the moon