Rough Edges

Intro: Cracks in your windshield, holes in your life, And you're trying to get home before it gets light. That old five-ton truck don't run good no more, Barely gets up those hills with your foot to the floor. And your horses are tired, your excuses are weak, And you ain't won a race since seventy-three. But all through the night, that trailer just sways. An east wind, you know, always brings rain. Out on the freeway, those big wheels just roll, Out past your time, and through your front door. Lights on the skyline, signs on the road, You don't pick up your mail, you don't answer your phone. And your old friends are dead, or they've all gone away, Wildflowers cry over their graves. And the paper they throw at the end of the lane, An east wind, it says, always brings rain. Down by the river, where the old boys still ride. And the edges are rough as suicide. Where the whisky's got colour, and the cows feed on grass, The windmills pump water, and your cheques don't go bad. And your blankets are dirty, your eternity frayed, And on through the night, that trailer just sways. So load up those cattle, move out that train, An east wind, you know, always brings rain.