Stolen Shoes & a Rifle

Weather is like feathers on fire

Ground's like a sound in my feet

I can’t stop my shaking

I’ve been traveling so low

And the shoes

I’ve been wearing, well they’re long and somewhat slow

And a giant waking bird shakes the trees above my head

Stolen shoes and a rifle

I just can’t seem to stay dead

Oh the stones won’t be lonely here this year it's gone now

My lover she’s got brothers down in

NatchezThey worship at the foot of the keep

My trails been cold for days but

I hear them all the same

Scattered out like wildfire on the plain

And the giant waking bird shakes the trees above my head

Stolen shoes and a rifle

I just can’t seem to stay dead

Oh the stones won’t be lonely here this year it's gone now

Weather is like feathers on fire