Riding Through the Plains
Ive lost the wages of the day
Through a hole in my trousers on the way
And still I'm hoping that this misery
Made a needing man happy
Riding through the plains
I made new friends on the train
Singing along to silly songs on the AM-FM
Riding through the plains
The sad and empty plains longing for spring
Like an overgrown house, or a bird without wings
Sad and empty like a violin without strings
We ride, and ride, through the endless plains
It looks like one could ride for an hour or a day
And still see the same naked trees waiting to be
blessed with the gift of life once again
Riding through the plains
Through the winds and the rains
And the strangers lying on their side
Gaze into the windows as we ride
As if the plains hid fairy tales
On pages bounden by the rails
endless stream of words with no meaning
Written on scrolls painted in green
To let your mind wander blindly
To let you write your own story
Riding through the plains
The sad and empty plains longing for spring
Like an overgrown house, or a bird without wings
Sad and empty like a violin without strings
We ride, and ride, through the endless plains
It looks like one could ride for an hour or a day
And still see the same naked trees waiting to be
blessed with the gift of life once again
Through a hole in my trousers on the way
And still I'm hoping that this misery
Made a needing man happy
Riding through the plains
I made new friends on the train
Singing along to silly songs on the AM-FM
Riding through the plains
The sad and empty plains longing for spring
Like an overgrown house, or a bird without wings
Sad and empty like a violin without strings
We ride, and ride, through the endless plains
It looks like one could ride for an hour or a day
And still see the same naked trees waiting to be
blessed with the gift of life once again
Riding through the plains
Through the winds and the rains
And the strangers lying on their side
Gaze into the windows as we ride
As if the plains hid fairy tales
On pages bounden by the rails
endless stream of words with no meaning
Written on scrolls painted in green
To let your mind wander blindly
To let you write your own story
Riding through the plains
The sad and empty plains longing for spring
Like an overgrown house, or a bird without wings
Sad and empty like a violin without strings
We ride, and ride, through the endless plains
It looks like one could ride for an hour or a day
And still see the same naked trees waiting to be
blessed with the gift of life once again
Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Colleu
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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