Grace for Saints and Ramblers Iron & Wine
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Grace for Saints and Ramblers" by Iron & Wine. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Chorus]
But it all came down to you and I (down to you and I)
But it all came down to you and I (down to you and I)
[Verse 1]
There were banged-up pens stealing first base
Underneath the tables, so we never say grace
Falling out of bed for the workday week
There was kissin' in the cracks of the flash-flood street
There were buddin' blossoms, blarin' Johnny Rotten
Chewed up and swallowed by the prophet they were tryin' to follow
Bit too green and we paid no tax
On our quick romantic cul-de-sac
[Chorus]
But it all came down to you and I (down to you and I)
But it all came down to you and I (down to you and I)
[Verse 2]
There were crashed-out cars in our bark-old clothes
They were rubbin' on each other, rubbin' ghost on ghost
There were junked-up punks and Jesus freaks
Weavin' in and out of trouble, wrappin' round and round a leash
There were sleepless dreamers, blues day preachers
The message and the messenger, the gun beneath the register
The sweet gum tree by the dug drop tank
We could never give enough to the bad-luck bank
But it all came down to you and I (down to you and I)
But it all came down to you and I (down to you and I)
[Verse 1]
There were banged-up pens stealing first base
Underneath the tables, so we never say grace
Falling out of bed for the workday week
There was kissin' in the cracks of the flash-flood street
There were buddin' blossoms, blarin' Johnny Rotten
Chewed up and swallowed by the prophet they were tryin' to follow
Bit too green and we paid no tax
On our quick romantic cul-de-sac
[Chorus]
But it all came down to you and I (down to you and I)
But it all came down to you and I (down to you and I)
[Verse 2]
There were crashed-out cars in our bark-old clothes
They were rubbin' on each other, rubbin' ghost on ghost
There were junked-up punks and Jesus freaks
Weavin' in and out of trouble, wrappin' round and round a leash
There were sleepless dreamers, blues day preachers
The message and the messenger, the gun beneath the register
The sweet gum tree by the dug drop tank
We could never give enough to the bad-luck bank
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