On Yer Own

Horses huddle close against the coming snow
They cower in the dark for fear of fire or a shooting star
Beneath the mountain strange and high

When you are young this herd is where you grow
You cut off your face just to spite your nose
And who knows which way the wind will blow
Today you are here but tomorrow you'll go
To be free of love

If the fire spreads and the stars drop 'round your head
Those horses they'd go mad and run right back where they began
Beneath the statues in the sky

Why would you leave your friends and your family
And dig up the roots of this weak little tree
And run off to the bowels of a city
To live in the heart where the blood rushes deep
Coming down is hard

There's no one who'll recognize
Your face in the morning light
And who remembers your name
Against so much fame

And over time you seem to disappear
You hang out in bars with a phone in your ear
And who cares for the stories you tell
When the language you use has all changed as well
Won't you come back home?