In a country that we call home in a land that's skin and bone there's a place that's hardly known. Mountains appearing with the sun rivers of light they westward run night is draining from the firmament. Railway fettler broken down on a branch line somewhere south off the map and off the world. There is no end to the world that I see there is no end to the world that I see. As we swing from star to star we're not going very far the land is hard and gives no quarter. The o'cannon garrison falls down you cannot hear the church bell sound the sun beats down and gives no sanctuary. As sure as I stand on this place the spirit comes let lightning strike and leave no trace.
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