horse flagging hard in these hard boundry lands
holding trace leather; with these gnarled bad hands
spirit nearly broken from this seemingly endless long ride

seeking shade from the sun
but the shade from my saddle can't hide:

the hole in my ribcage
or the lines in my face
no tell (**** I'm weary), sit saddle, betraying no trace
of the years i have gathered
or the miles-

i have ridden alone
gone hungry
been cold
this ain't the first time
i've ridden...
but this time I'll die,

as well will my brothers
don't it hurt to discover
that it always all comes to an end?
and there ain't no one  reason
to lie to myself,
to lie to myself
or pretend

no, there isn't one reason
to lie by myself
or pretend
that there ain't no more reasons