Broke down in a ghost town; last train left the station, Long-faced and lonely, bearing a grave sin. Out on the prairie, the spook-lights shine, Lighting up the faces of the dead, the losing kind. Black night on the boulevard, don your streetlight halo. Take a spin on my medicine wheel, but stay off the main roads. Empty streets and tumbleweeds, the only company. Prying eyes and whisp'ring lies, you crank that skeleton key.