The Stopping-Off Place

well the fog's rollin' thick in the trees

and the fire burns deep in the hole

my conscience a wound with no salve

it betrays me wherever I go

said the best way a man can go down

is to die with his face to the street

and you guessed that the

way I'd go down

like a gambler who rolls off to sleep

but that night on the mountain,

I staged my own death

left my clothes scattered far

down the trail

and I dreamed of your neck,

your raven-haired crown

with no trace, I jumped over the rail

Move along, cannot stay

The Stoppin'-off place

Move along, cannot stay

The Stoppin'-off place

plain clothes knows nothin' bout me

and plain clothes knows

nothin' bout you

he'll call off the chase in a snap

he'll give up the chase if you ask

and I promised to you, that I'd

see my way clear

and I'd come back to get

you someday

with silver for teeth and blood

in my hair

I'd come back and get you someday

Move along, cannot stay

The Stoppin'-off place

Move along, cannot stay

The Stoppin'-off place

Move along, cannot stay

The Stoppin'-off place

Move along, cannot stay

The Stoppin'-off place