West
Familiar ground's a distant thingWhen you travel vague and crooked roadsAnd the sun's a scab on vacant skiesNow we always hope we're still alone
There's too much time for idle mindsImagination's armed with hooks and knivesWe count our fears to pass the timeTired or not, don't close your eyes
A picket fenceA painted houseA quiet life
One where our days are calmAnd nights are spent in kindOne where our hopes and dreamsAre attainable thingsOne where time can't reach
Gain half the plains nowCut mountain chains downSleep when you canYou can't know how the nights fall
Things will be better thereThings will be good thereDon't stop to thinkJust chase the dream we're chasing
I smell the fireplaceWarm light, a warm faceA quiet lifeA life, a life, a life, a lifeA life along the breeze
The dogs came at midnightGuns drawn and eyes brightI heard them laughin'Black voices scratchin'
Black wind they move likeOur lives ain't worth the millionsAs dogs tear the canvasFlies on the carcassBut it buys the time we need
The dogs came at midnightThe dogs came at midnightThe dogs came at midnightAnd I always hear them laughing