Compositor: Não Disponível
When the railroad tracks run out
Where will you be goin' boy
Will you reach the edge of the woods
When the Sheriff is around
You're nowhere to be found
The fire in your legs
The wind in your face
The echo in the trees
The whisper through the leaves
The dark horse is comin'
A lonely mother grieves
Ooh
You never stand and face
All the time you waste
Combing through the mountainside
To find the edge of grace
Just then a calm comes over
Your heart feels sober
You need a place to rest
Gotta run until the mornin'
Gotta run until the morning' comes again