Long Way from Home
from Line Line (2011) by Thunderegg
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lyrics
Solace bleeds within me on waking up in Chinle. They got speakers in the pine trees, pan flute music gently winding through the dawn. That's my cue to be moving on. If LA's a disaster, Santa Cruz comes after, then I don't know where I'll clear to, one more city in my rearview catacomb. I was a long way from home. And if you wake me up at six a.m. again, your voice still ringing in my head, remembering something warm you said before I let this trip begin, I'll roll my sleeping bag real tight, wrap up your words till tomorrow night. I'll make believe that I am gone, but you'll be with me moving on.
From Marathon to Marfa down to Mexico and farther west than I have cared to venture, it seems I've been indentured to make me strong, to keep me moving on. In Okaton the ghost town whispers tales of untold drifters who would gladly take their blisters for a callus on their hearts, their voices moan, I was a long way from home. And if you wake me up at six a.m. again, your voice still ringing in my head, remembering something warm you said before I let this trip begin, I'll roll my sleeping bag real tight, wrap up your words till tomorrow night. I'll make believe that I am gone, but you'll be with me moving on.
From Mitchell to Chicago I took roads you could not follow, let Ohio night come swallow me on farmer's fields the fireflies aglow, the peepers calling low. When my eyes next opened, the sky above had broken, and you were drowned out by the rain on the tent's words so clearly spoken: Welcome home. Welcome home. And if you wake me up at six a.m. again, your voice still ringing in my head, remembering something warm you said before I let this trip begin, I'll roll my sleeping bag real tight, wrap up your words till tomorrow night. Then toss it all into a pond, get on the road and keep moving on.
From Marathon to Marfa down to Mexico and farther west than I have cared to venture, it seems I've been indentured to make me strong, to keep me moving on. In Okaton the ghost town whispers tales of untold drifters who would gladly take their blisters for a callus on their hearts, their voices moan, I was a long way from home. And if you wake me up at six a.m. again, your voice still ringing in my head, remembering something warm you said before I let this trip begin, I'll roll my sleeping bag real tight, wrap up your words till tomorrow night. I'll make believe that I am gone, but you'll be with me moving on.
From Mitchell to Chicago I took roads you could not follow, let Ohio night come swallow me on farmer's fields the fireflies aglow, the peepers calling low. When my eyes next opened, the sky above had broken, and you were drowned out by the rain on the tent's words so clearly spoken: Welcome home. Welcome home. And if you wake me up at six a.m. again, your voice still ringing in my head, remembering something warm you said before I let this trip begin, I'll roll my sleeping bag real tight, wrap up your words till tomorrow night. Then toss it all into a pond, get on the road and keep moving on.
credits
from Line Line (2011),
released September 13, 2011
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