Coming down from the mountain
Trying to make out what I've scribbled on my hands
Trying to make good on the promises my old life demanded
Coming down from the mountain
All my days out in the desert
I lost my voice, I lost my will, I lost my way
I lost the only one who knew me well enough that she could save me
From all these days out in the desert
And all my trials and tribulations
Have laid me down so low
But the last drops of my good intentions
Compel me to go back home
And all the stars out in West Texas
Must be beholden to a bigger dream than mine
Cause by the time I made the Greyhound station
Not a star or constellation
Graced the skies above west Texas
And all my trials and tribulations
Have laid me down so low
But the last drops of my good intentions
Compel me to go back home
And when I get back to my brother
He wears his hair shorter than I ever can recall
And asks me where I've been
And he asks what I've been up to
And I say not much at all