sometimes rust looks like woodnnsometimes we do as we shouldnnbut most times you'll find nnwhether ahead or behindnnthe mystery of a heart that's goodnnnni swear that true love has diednnbut i still hear sweet longing sighsnnlooks like love's locked up insidennin a jail of ribs and goodbyesnnnnsometimes rust looks like woodnnsometimes we wish that we couldnnbut most things you'll seennwill lead you to grievennthe mystery of a heart that's goodnnnni swear that true love has diednnbut i still hear sweet longing sighsnnlooks like love's locked up insidennin a jail made of ribs and goodbyesnnnnsometimes rust looks like woodnnsometimes we do as we shouldnnbut most times you'll findnnwhether ahead or behindnnthe mystery of a heart that's good