A Burning Soul - Owen

Father had a burning soul

«Go on…»

Drank himself into a hole with no way out

He wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t a bad man

Father had a burning soul

«Go on…»

He could’ve, should’ve loved 'em all one by one

He wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t a bad man

In his defense, he never asked to be born

He seemed content to see the world with his eyes closed

Now I’ve got a burning soul

What now?

Both ends of my prayer candle are burned out

In my defense, I was raised by a blind man on fire

Who was raised to lip-sync in his church choir

So I’m not a saint and I’m not a singer