作曲 : Adrian Peter Nye
Her house is the seat of many myths
strewn on the ocean waters
Decaying wrecks, abandoned strands of starlight
She’s a dreamer, She’s a healer
Her sacrament is the Harley sound
She’s headed west with the night

The tall benedictine, the silent one
Sawdust in his sandy hair
In his bag waits a hammer, two shirts and a nail
The Indian flute he made
Sacred vision wisdom journey
To break the chains across the river
He’s headed west with the night

Throw off the cloak you’re burning
Throw off the cloak you’re burning
Throw off the cloak you’re burning
You're burning

At a quiet cafe west of Wichita
She’s reading his tarot at a table, she says:
You've chosen to wear the cloak of fear
Feels warm but it's on fire
Further on the road is out of sight
together down the highway
We’re headed west with the night

Throw off the cloak you’re burnin
Throw off the cloak you’re burnin
Throw off the cloak you’re burnin
You're burnin