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 is gone yeah

My lover she’s got brothers down in Natchez
They 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 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 is gone yeah

Weather is like feathers on fire