I'm gonna make it back
To the low light in the trees
And I think of it in the back
Of my car while my toes freeze
Hear me running
Snow under my feet
Nothing feels like becoming
Good, bad, or complete
Sleep to the desert wind
Hope I wake to a quiet breeze
But the air the gusts are loading
Stills only if I want to dream
Hear me running
Snow under my feet
Nothing feels like becoming
Good, bad, or complete