Thru the Field - Memory Tapes

Walk on through the field, it’s already late

I swear I heard somebody laughing

At all my mistakes

Forest of hands, a shot through the ground

I’m glad that my heels worn unlikely

And drag me back down

Under the ground, never alone

The voices are whispering softly

That this is my home

I thought I heard them call my name before

I need a break now before I fall

Are you a calling me up

Looking out for you, here back crying

Oh, I don’t know it’s real

Am I going out?