Текст: Cowboy Junkies. Pale Sun, Crescent Moon. The Post.

Eyed it, dried it, untied it
Chilled it, spilled it, refilled it
Taste it, traced it, erased it

He's my post to lean on
And I just cut him down
So, I'm out to land on somethin'
Hopefully a boy will come to me at the ground

Eyed it, dried it, untied it
Chilled it, spilled it, refilled it
Taste it, trace it, erased it

He's my post to lean on
And I just cut him down
So, I'm out to land on somethin'
Hopefully a boy will come to me at the ground

He's my post to lean on
And I just cut him down
So, I'm out to land on somethin'
Hopefully a boy will come to me at the ground