| Song | Handful Of Arrows |
| Artist | Kelly Joe Phelps |
| Album | Tunesmith Retrofit |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Phelps | |
| Play again, oh | |
| Tap on the board | |
| I could use a song here, now | |
| Word unheard, none ever burned | |
| A room to set me in | |
| Sing again, oh | |
| Throw another tale | |
| Walking out across our ground | |
| It's cold behind this cabin door | |
| That high tone light it right | |
| Stomp it down, oh | |
| Show them your hands | |
| Hit 'em with that old, steel gun | |
| I believe that song will breathe | |
| underneath this cabin floor | |
| Sweet lullaby, | |
| Somewhere ago | |
| Daughter, the glory of the world | |
| A single line of a tangled weave | |
| From me to her to you | |
| Feel it there | |
| In every other hand | |
| Every other John Pole child | |
| You know... You drew a tight bow string | |
| And shot that arrow gone |
| zuo ci : Phelps | |
| Play again, oh | |
| Tap on the board | |
| I could use a song here, now | |
| Word unheard, none ever burned | |
| A room to set me in | |
| Sing again, oh | |
| Throw another tale | |
| Walking out across our ground | |
| It' s cold behind this cabin door | |
| That high tone light it right | |
| Stomp it down, oh | |
| Show them your hands | |
| Hit ' em with that old, steel gun | |
| I believe that song will breathe | |
| underneath this cabin floor | |
| Sweet lullaby, | |
| Somewhere ago | |
| Daughter, the glory of the world | |
| A single line of a tangled weave | |
| From me to her to you | |
| Feel it there | |
| In every other hand | |
| Every other John Pole child | |
| You know... You drew a tight bow string | |
| And shot that arrow gone |
| zuò cí : Phelps | |
| Play again, oh | |
| Tap on the board | |
| I could use a song here, now | |
| Word unheard, none ever burned | |
| A room to set me in | |
| Sing again, oh | |
| Throw another tale | |
| Walking out across our ground | |
| It' s cold behind this cabin door | |
| That high tone light it right | |
| Stomp it down, oh | |
| Show them your hands | |
| Hit ' em with that old, steel gun | |
| I believe that song will breathe | |
| underneath this cabin floor | |
| Sweet lullaby, | |
| Somewhere ago | |
| Daughter, the glory of the world | |
| A single line of a tangled weave | |
| From me to her to you | |
| Feel it there | |
| In every other hand | |
| Every other John Pole child | |
| You know... You drew a tight bow string | |
| And shot that arrow gone |