时间：2026-05-07
在手机上保存，获得更好体验
40 Years on a Country Road (Dark Western Folk & Blues) - GHOST OF THE SOUTH
40 years on a county road
dust in my mouth and in my bones
same crack of line where the cane fields been
same hard sky that don't pretend
chain gang steps in the clay
boots keep time with a bitter way
I watch that sun like a jailhouse eye
watch good men fade, watch bad men thrive
and the night come down
like a rusted chain
everybody low
everybody name
40 years on a county road
40 years and I still won't fold
hear that thud, hear that slow cold drum
we were born to crawl, but we rise from the mud
40 years
on a county road
sheriff's dog bark from the millyard gate
mama stood still with a plate gone cold
the preacher said,"Boy, keep your head down low"
but my heart beat loud like a locked-out home
saw my brother trade his life for steel
saw his hands go white on a cartwheel rim
saw a black train roll through the rain
and it took his name like a Baptist stain
and the sky got mean
and the moon got thin
still we dragged that load
still we dragged it in
40 years on a county road
40 years and I still won't fold
hear that thud, hear that slow cold drum
we were born to crawl, but we rise from the mud
40 years
on a county road
if I die here, let the weeds grow high
let the red dirt keep my alibi
I was never tame, I was never sold
I was a hard-old vow
in a weathered soul
40 years on a county road
40 years and I still won't fold
hear that thud, hear that slow cold drum
we were born to crawl, but we rise from the mud
40 years
on a county road
