Crosses Burn Slow in the South

I’ve seen fire take the holy ground, Watched the saints turn their eyes down. The night don’t ask and the flame don’t care, I walk on smoke like I own the air. Where mercy dies and shadows shout, Crosses burn slow in the South.

Crosses burn slow in the South, The flame don’t forgive, it just opens its mouth. You can pray to the sky, you can beg out loud, But crosses burn slow in the South.

I’ve seen preachers drink their faith away, Watched the guilty kneel but the fire stay. Ashes fall but the smoke won’t leave, It marks the men who choose to believe. I light my own and I make no vow, Crosses burn slow in the South.

Crosses burn slow in the South, Smoke don’t lie, it just circles around. Every scar’s a scripture, every sin’s a crown, Crosses burn slow in the South.

You can run from the flame, But the smoke will cling. A vow don’t fade, It just learns to sing.

Crosses burn slow in the South, Marking the ground where the lost cry out. No light will save, no grace will shout, Crosses burn slow in the South.

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