Pale Rider - Wind Walkers

Not a man, nothing more he only knows what he’s not

He has a clot in his veins, keeping love from his heart

His eyes grow colder with each shoulder turned away in disgrace

His legs are shaking from the wading through the decades of waste

Searching for meaning in any place that he can

He’s looking for peace with a gun in his hand

Searching for meaning in any place that he can

He’s looking for peace with a gun in his hand

Swing low burning chariot, pick him up and carry him home

Burn slow fading chariot, burn slow, burn slow

He poured his heart into that California sunset once again

So when the morning comes

It could rise home in Massachusetts

But his heart is gone sailing over the Pacific

I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart is, after all

She’s not a goddess she’s a statue and she’s stuck in one place

She’s a one woman cult and the mirror’s her faith

She can’t pass by it without crying, falling down on knees

She prays to whoever listens to change what she sees

Swing low, swing low, so I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart is

Burn slow, burn slow, so I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart is

Swing low, swing low, they poured their hearts into the road that they traveled

on

Burn slow, burn slow, so I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart

belongs

Swing low burning chariot, pick him up and carry him home

Burn slow fading chariot, burn slow, burn slow

He poured his heart into that California sunset once again

So when the morning comes

It could rise home in Massachusetts

But his heart is gone sailing over the Pacific

I guess he’s wrong, home is never where your heart is, after all

His name was death, and hell followed with him

Walking through fire his feet burned and blistered

He called for help but no one would listen

His name was death, and hell followed with him

Walking through fire his feet burned and blistered

So he called to his demons and dragged them down with him

Dragged them down with him