Low Season Lyrics - Moor Hound

They found me with my head on my chest 

In too deep of a rest 

He never made good on a dream 

He rather sleep it seems 

Back down in a low season 

I don't think I like where I am going 

They found me in a grave made of stitches 

Feet still wet from wading ditches 

He overslept in this town 

An awkward wheel that rattles around 

They found me with a list in my hand 

Of all I'd do when given the chance 

He waited for what the world would bring 

But the world never owed him a thing