Sometimes Our Dreams Float Like Anchors - William Elliott Whitmore

And the hammer swings high

And comes down hard

Drive another nail into my coffin lid

And as the days go by if I can play my part

Well I’ll feel no remorse for what I did

Your mother would cry if she only could

But those days are gone, those days are gone

And she always tried

To see the good in everything that you done

And sometimes our dreams they float like anchors

In hopeless waters oh way down deep

Sometimes it seems that all that matters

Most are all the things that you can’t keep

Oh, the skin, Oh, the skin

That this old world has placed me in

I can’t wait to shed, I can’t wait to shed

Lord I’ll be free when I’m dead