Lonesome Trail Riders

(hm-mmmmm) Leaving tire tracks

in the dry red clay

Before the morning sun

can burn the fog away

There's a wild wind calling from the mountain peak

Singing all the secrets that we never speak We are cowboys riding

on a shifting range Searching for a land that doesn't want to

change

(ooh-ooh) Fences stretching out

to the horizon line

Marking boundaries

of a different time

And the old ways are fading

Like a campfire in the rain

There's a wild wind calling from the mountain peak

Singing all the secrets that we never speak We are cowboys riding

on a shifting range

Searching for a land that doesn't want to change (yeah)

Just riding on... (hm-mmmmm)