Reaching way back just as far as he can
Looking ‘cross the plains with cloudy eyes and shaky hands
The wind is picking up and it’s bringing on a chill
While the memories in his head break the dam and start to spill
Dust out on the gravel road still lingers in the air
From the live stock trailers rattling by, they don’t see him there
An unknown foreign visitor from some other time
Looking for to trespass or commit some kind of crime

He wanders through the halls just outside the empty rooms
Their windows shuttered tight against a cold November moon
The shadows in the corners from all they left behind
They bleed into the cracks of light that leave him nearly blind
Stealing back to yesterday when no one sees him leave
Slips the latch undone and closes the door so quietly
Cuts through fallow fields until he comes upon the track
He’s leaving it all behind him, he ain’t ever coming back

And the ghosts in the backyard that you speak to late at night
They’re the only ones who even bother to tell you you’re right
But being right don’t mean a thing when you’re left alone
To listen to the creakin’ boards of what was once your home

A boxcar from a rusty freight cradles his achin’ bones
Iron, wood, and steel taking him further on down the road
But the road ain’t always kind when you’re looking to outrun
The bullets and the blasts that you fired from your own gun
‘Cause the black powder stains and smells and gets inside your head
Mixes blood with all the dreams that you left for dead
And every passing mile you begin to long for sleep
But there ain’t no place to lay your head ‘cept the planks beneath your feet

And the ghosts that you talk to in the night outside the train
They’re the only ones who are telling you to stay in out of the rain
‘Cause the rain can wash away every sin you’ve ever known
Except for these old creakin’ boards that are taking you from your home

Kneeling by the river’s edge, filling his old canteen
The icy water rushing by is the only thing he sees
Stands and takes a drink and hears the sound of his own breath
Coming from some hollow place that’s deep inside his chest
He turns to look and see if there’s anyone standing there
Just some naked trees swaying in the autumn air
Pulls his jacket tight and he steps off towards the sun
Thinking to himself that it’s already come undone.

And the ghosts that you talk to when you sleepwalk through the day
They’re the only ones who can understand all the crazy things you say
And them trees bending in that wind are yours and yours alone
Just some more old creakin’ boards for you to build yourself a new home