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I've got my bag slung over my shoulder, and in my sturdiest pair of boots |
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I walk the highway's gravel shoulder westward towards the setting sun |
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I got good but still have hunger, a woman she'd turned her face toward mine, and when you feel that kind of hunger, a woman knows to leave you behind |
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The highway stretches out just like an angel's wings to the line that cuts the land from sky |
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And god knows I'm a sinner, but I'm not begging for forgiveness this time |
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You walk these streets like a soldier; a solitary infantry woman |
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I could have been the helicopter sent to save you, but I'm walking away instead |
