1. The Traveler

From the recording Drawn West

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Part one in the saga of a weary traveler, looking to find his way...


Dead flowers wilted on the lawn
All green grass, long since gone
No water left here for the parched
A traveler’s dried up, rusted, thirsty heart

Cooked in the sun for far too long
It just brought cracked skin, a bruised chest, and a busted jaw
Slowly paced to the edge of town
Knew the time for those lonesome tracks was right about now

Just one bag for the 702
Headed for Angels, packed with the ghosts of a thoughtless fool
He rides the rails ‘til there’s no more track
That whistle sings the sign that there’s no looking back

It’s time to rest those weary eyes
Faded blue tear ducts, long since dried up
No water left there for the parched
Our traveler wanders off, with the ghosts and a thirsty heart
A thirsty heart