COWBOY REQUIEM

 

The wind dried up the blood on my vest

On the bridge above, ghosts were welcoming in the dead

They were welcoming in the dead, in single file

With a smile, I hung my hat on the guard rail

And fell in line behind the young and pale

 

I was thinking of all the terrible things I said

When they drew their guns and I became the song in their heads

I became the song in your head

I was a child, crooked smile, my boots were dusty as my heart

Starting over is always the hardest part

Starting over is easily the hardest part