I've got four hours
And 40,000 miles to go
There's a lonely road
Stretching far beyond my bodies hold
Packed my bags
Packed my mind
Set my feet on down the line
Leave that sun behind
Im going where that cold wind blows
There will always be
One more hour left to pray
I hear that morning whistle
Taking all my troubles away
So start out with those shackles
That bind both your wrist
And burn your legs
There are mirrors in the background
Reflecting how our bodies were made
I've gone 10,000 miles
But I feel like I Haven't moved a bone
Always planning on returning
Never thought that the road
Could be my home
There are drifters in the shadows
Vagabonds loosening their loads
Whose wandering thoughts
Are bouncing from
Coast to coast
There will always be
One more hour left to pray
I hear that morning whistle
Taking all my troubles away
So start out with those shackles
That bind both your wrist
And burn your legs
There are mirrors in the background
Reflecting how our bodies were made
