so many times
i walked backwards for miles on end
hour to broken hour
the shot heart of a man
the good days are through
i can't stop to think about you

fast as it came
it went away
forever until my flesh is cold
not much ahead
so much behind
turn back when half-way
every time

the thought within becomes
a little bit too certain
you try to out run yourself
never to be seen again
cool to the point of not feeling
much of anything
looking back
to old wrecks and mistakes

worn to the bone
beaten and broke
a heart is somewhere deep inside
so many others have faded
you remain in my memory
i'm running constantly
and it stays forever
like the smelter of this town
like this rugged old country
that's mostly gone now