there's a wreck on the highway and it hasn't been there long
south bound on eighty-four back side of oregon
there's no silver lining in these clouds today
all the clues a few good leads they got swept away

been out proclaiming a thousand miles from home
with a few tools of the trade and a lot of more less alone
we live these lives like they never will run out
sand through the hourglass but we've lost the count

so you listen to the wind and you listen to the rain
and trace the trail of crumbs up the path again
when you're writing your chapter know how much i care
and forgive me darling when i'm not there

the soap box has never been as big as you hoped
was it the scar on the wrists you showed them or that lump in your throat
you pull your life from the wreckage and it's there you set up camp
some beat up guitar and some old tweed amp