Fools wind blowing up brown bible verses Dust storm of memory Truck stop reverie 3 AM in my home town not a soul stirring around Mr. Trucker Man don't slow down in this little town 'Cause I'm traveling faster than the speed of regret What I was born knowing I was bound to forget In the blindness of being what I was born seeing I was just plain bound to forget Yes, I was just plain bound to forget Now my tank run dry two hours out of Tucson by three little crosses on the side of the highway Still as a box full of busted watches I settle debts with the dead and keep right on I keep on keeping on Pedal to the metal on the wide open highway Criss-cross the high plains of bright-eyed solitude I tailgate a truck-load of tabula rasa 'til my mind go clearer than the highway west of El Paso Guess I'm traveling faster than the speed of regret What I was born knowing I was bound to forget In the blindness of being what I was born seeing I was just plain bound to forget Yes I was just plain bound to forget Now, 24/7 in the end my friend gotta go at God's speed no never relent lest the soul-sucking, sneaky-deaky, belly-aching past like a ssssnake in the grasssssssss ssssstrike and bury your assssssss. So keep your eyes on the prize on the distant horizon Be wary of the wind and the bad moon rising Knowing in your going, somehow, some way that you'll out-run your shadow yes you will, one fine day 'Cause you're traveling faster than the speed of regret What I was born knowing I was bound to forget In the blindness of being what I was born seeing I was just plain bound to forget yes I was just plain bound to forget.
Compositor: Michael Davis Pratt (Jim White) ECAD: Obra #16851902