Kick the dirt off your boots, the extra weight and the miles like the mud's dried up and gone away.
Drive the road with no words knowing you'll never be heard, pack your pain up, paint blue over grey.
          The open miles go away.
          Less tomorrows than yesterdays
          On open miles walk away.
Hole-patcher trows to keep the Devil in tow, pull the mountain to say it will move.
Climb up the hardest roads and never look at the crows who see the battle for something to prove.
Look down the well that leads straight into hell, lower your pale and fill it with fire.
Endure the burn for the pain you now yearn as the man on the mountain fell.
          The open miles go away.
          Less tomorrows than yesterdays
          On open miles walk away.
Walk away.
          On open miles walk away.
          On open miles...

Miles

Anothos

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Christopher Lemke

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