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We carried our bags down the trail of dust,
Our footsteps matched in the morning gust.
We talked of dreams and the places we'd go,
But the trail had a turn we were too blind to know.
Now the dust is settled and the wind is low,
I face the turn but I never go.
I just wait where the ground begins to part,
And my compass still points to your heart.
The path that we followed is overgrown,
It splits into two where I stand alone.
My mind won't turn, it just lives in the scene,
Where the grass was soft and the air was clean.
The path that we followed is overgrown,
It splits into two where I stand alone.
My mind won't turn, it re-plays the sound,
Of your laugh in the breeze when we were around.
Now the dust is settled and the wind is low,
I face the turn but I never go.
I just wait where the ground begins to part,
And my compass still points to your heart.
The path that we followed is overgrown,
It splits into two where I stand alone.
My mind won't turn, it just lives in the scene,
Where the grass was soft and the air was clean.
The path that we followed is overgrown,
It splits into two where I stand alone.
My mind won't turn, it re-plays the sound,
Of your laugh in the breeze when we were around.
