It must be that time of year I'm feeling that pull again I've got to get away from here and back to where my feet can stand Back to where the trees grow tall and ain't a sound for miles around Except for the distant call of that lonely coyote's howl Life's mysteries unravel when my tires hit that gravel and I leave the paved road far behind Every breath I breathe is one step closer to me easing my worried mind Way back in the sticks is where I feel alive in my rusty old '66 that won't even go fifty five Nothing can compare to the joy that I've found every time I go back there I'll make a quart of sweet corn whiskey from ten gallons of sour mash I'll turn a pile of firewood into a pile of sky grey ash If there's anything left inside me that remembers what it's like to feel and the mud beneath my heels
It must be that time of year I'm feeling that pull again I've got to get away from here and back to where my feet can stand Back to where the trees grow tall and ain't a sound for miles around Except for the distant call of that lonely coyote's howl Life's mysteries unravel when my tires hit that gravel and I leave the paved road far behind Every breath I breathe is one step closer to me easing my worried mind Way back in the sticks is where I feel alive in my rusty old '66 that won't even go fifty five Nothing can compare to the joy that I've found every time I go back there I'll make a quart of sweet corn whiskey from ten gallons of sour mash I'll turn a pile of firewood into a pile of sky grey ash If there's anything left inside me that remembers what it's like to feel and the mud beneath my heels
It must be that time of year I'm feeling that pull again I've got to get away from here and back to where my feet can stand Back to where the trees grow tall and ain't a sound for miles around Except for the distant call of that lonely coyote's howl Life's mysteries unravel when my tires hit that gravel and I leave the paved road far behind Every breath I breathe is one step closer to me easing my worried mind Way back in the sticks is where I feel alive in my rusty old '66 that won't even go fifty five Nothing can compare to the joy that I've found every time I go back there I'll make a quart of sweet corn whiskey from ten gallons of sour mash I'll turn a pile of firewood into a pile of sky grey ash If there's anything left inside me that remembers what it's like to feel and the mud beneath my heels
Down the street the dogs are barking and the day is getting dark. As the night comes in a- falling, all the dogs lose their bark, And the silent nig...
同じ顔を缲り返して 世界は今日も回るんだろう でも忘れていた事ひとつ 大きく息を吸い込んだら 周りに满ちた愛の形 眩しいくらいにキラキラと 遠くで 誰かが呼んでいる その声絶えず この胸に响く 小さな喜びを乗せて 回りだすメリーゴーランド 夜明けの来ない日でも 心に明かり灯そう 夢中で何かさがす...
The sweetest labor that my heart has known is the farm on which I stand Every single seed that's been sown was put in the ground by my hand Sometimes ...
Who stole the soul. And who stole the heart. Why can't I breathe. Till all the poets have failed. Till all the good men are jailed for nothing at all....
Oh bury me not on the lone prairie Where the coyotes wail and the wind blows free And when I die, don't bury me 'neath the Western sky on the lone pra...
The old days are gone The time goes so fast Like the cars of a train Watch 'em go past The feelin's still here And it won't leave me be I didn't waste...
It was a beautiful day. And the sun was shining high. Not a cloud up above. It was a good day to die. And I got my chores done. I got the horses fed. ...