A Tremolo tale of dead men riding
in the old west deciding
that their fate was up to Destiny
but this is their story, not mine you see.

They ride as one soul, pressed on by the promise of a better life
leaving behind everything, family, friends
even their wives.

Searching for something that can't be toed down,
looking for someone that can never be found.

they burned white hot when angered,
a soothing blue when pleased
I've seen them ride, it's a humbling experience indeed.

And it's said that to This day, on a brightly lit night
if you look up quickly you may see them fly right on by
those brave warriors, those ghost riders in the sky