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In the state of |
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Montana, In the |
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Year of the |
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Ford, Nineteen hundred & fifty-four, |
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People are leaving, |
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They're driving all night. |
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Women are crying, |
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They're frozen in lights. |
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And we roll on the river. |
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Our river is black. |
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Our river is deep. |
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Headlights & moonlight, |
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A space full of grief. |
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Secrets and heartaches must carry the load. |
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The heart of the thing is the thing we don't know. |
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And we roll out the barrels. |
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Lo & behold, the night is too long. |
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Anchored in heartache, |
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Afraid of the dawn, |
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Nobody changes. |
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The truth is all gone. |
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Bosses say, |
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Everybody must go. |
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And we roll on the ribbons of our dreams. |
