Frazey Ford
Three Golden Trees
You carried me up and over the water
In a white dress covered in rust
And I folded into your shoulder
All through the flood
There were three golden trees over Beulah
And three new graves in the sun
We sat together on the horizon
There was so much we lost
And I hang on your footsteps
And I speak your name
Are you really the sort of person
Are you really the sort of person
Who would treat me this way?
Welcome to the end of our trust
If you must, if you must
Oh, welcome to the end of our trust
If you must, if you must
I never wanted to show you
All those things
I was tired, and getting over
Long seasons of rain
And who are you
To take yourself away?
I can't believe what I'm hearing
Are you really the sort of person
Who would treat me this way?
Welcome to the end of our trust
If you must, if you must
Oh
Welcome to the end of our trust
If you must, if you must
If you must, if you must