High Low And In Between

A                        D       
I come from a long line, high low
                         A
 and in between, same as you.

A                 D              
Hills of golden, miles of poison 
                 A
time's thrown me through.

A                          D     
And I believe I've come to learn 
that turnin' round is to become 
        A
confusion,

Continues after the ad
        G                   D     
And the gold's no good for 
   Dm                       A
spendin', and the poison's hungry 
waitin'.



What can you leave behind, when 
you're flyin' lightnin' fast and all
 alone?
Only a trace my friend, spirit of 
motion born and direction grown.
A trace that will not fade in frozen
 skies, and your journey will be.
And if a shadow don't seem much 
company, well who said it would be?