Wind and whiskey

Dust has settled on my scuffed-up leather boots.
I left my history a thousand miles behind.
Got no cross on my neck, got no roots,
Just a freezing chill running through my mind.

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And where I'm rambling before the morning breaks,
Or where I'll find a place to lay my head and rest?
Ain't a single soul can see the road it takes—
Only the wind and whiskey know my path the best.


The fretboard of this Martin is worn down to the wood.
The strings are crying like a hound out in the rain.
My shadow faded long before it ever should,
Riding the rails of a never-ending train.


I forgave the ones who swore their hollow lies.
I dropped their names into the empty black.
This locomotive rolls beneath the stormy skies,
Down a twisted, God-forsaken track.



Припев
And where I'm rambling before the morning breaks,
Or where I'll find a place to lay my head and rest?
Ain't a single soul can see the road it takes—
Only the wind and whiskey know my path the best.