Too damn many losses, scars across your hide.
Friend and home and family gone by.
Do the miles of wasteland really roll the pain behind,
Or are you racing for a place to die?
Chorus:
Heart like an axle, bounded by your wheels,
Rolling down the endles
s blacktop road.
Stripping gears and losing for every mile that falls;
How long can you keep dragging that load?
Innocence and honesty before your eyes have died.
Watch yourself turn crazy by degrees.
All your skills wheel down to one last purpose in this world:
To turn against the same old enemies.
Honest hands hold out to you a promised home again.
Why do you always turn around and run?
Is it fear to feel again the losing and the pain,
Or shame of showing decent men the demon you've become?
Stand on the highway in the wreckage and the dust,
Where nothing moves now but the wind and sun.
How long the warrior with no one you can trust,
How long before the race is run?
