Handmade Guns Video (MV)

April, in her stable
Fooling with her frozen salt block
Takes him, if she's able
From the house down to the dock

The water, oh the water
Ebbs and flows with his breath
His silence doesn't falter
Like a grave or an empty bed

The house was on fire
And through tears watched the son
As he loaded his weapon
Preparing to run

Handmade guns
Father holds his hands out to the sun
Razor tongues
Words of lightning finally come
Robbed by the hands of his only son

Careening through the screen door
Drunk, and all alone
Sending bottles at the Bradfords
Cursing his only home

He said: I am not like you
I know when to go
You're shaking that old globe
Praying for snow

Handmade guns
Father holds his hands out to the son
Razor tongues
Words of lightning finally come

Father waits
Endlessly
A smile on his face
And an extra house key

Handmade guns
Leaving home to climb mountains
But handmade love
Does not measure by how far he runs

Look here, see the small deer
Crouching behind the apple tree
It's a stranger, but it lives here
It's home, even if it leaves