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Fire Next Time

from Home by Nathan Evans Fox

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lyrics

There’s an anger like hot coals that burns through my own soul
‘Bout all of the company you keep.
In cathedrals, in steeples, you enshrine the shit-speakers you claim that you never grieve.
The price that you pay, the devil only knows,
No tobacco-bought prestige will buy back your soul.

In creeds and confessions you sell false beliefs to reconcile all to your guileless deceit.
There’s room at the table for all who bend low and bow down their heads for this unholy yoke.
And the silence just proves what is already known.

When a hard rain comes, there’s no place to go
When the stones from your quarry are the stones that you throw.
Judgement will come, fire next time,
Build in the floodplains for safety while those hard waters rise.

What indulgences to sell
To pay the price of hell,
To pay the price of hell,
To pay the price of hell?
Bishops, kings,
Queens and deans,
Have made an empire’s economy,
And gather now to make pawns out of you and out me.
Pray for a hard rain to come, for a fire next time.

Where can you run to, you plantation lord,
When the hounds of hell will hunt you down
And you’re turned from heaven’s door?

credits

from Home, released February 1, 2017

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Nathan Evans Fox Nashville, Tennessee

Born and raised in western North Carolina, Nathan Evans Fox writes songs that sound the way gas stations feel. When it comes to Nathan’s approach, Americana Highways writes, “It’s not cornpone, it’s not alt-country, country-western, or pop-country. Fox has a solid hold on a serious genre of country seldom covered by many artists. It cuts through the commerciality of country music.”

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