Giant Sand Follow

It took him out of taxlandand into the fields of nether.His skin soaked in the air thereand answered the return with "never".There was always horses coming.There was always a way to ride...to leave the national debt ,and ways of wires way behind.It was real for him... and for her.They'd meet by the fieldwhere the crows all fled the earth.And the kind of clothes they worewere perfect for the rain....hard leather for the downside...wide brims for the brain.There was always horses coming.There was always a way to ride...He never got her nameand she would never toss it twice.They clung to what matteredand drunk in the entice.They loved the border lines,and when they'd ruin for themselves,they'd dance across the borderand drink again from fresh wells.There was always horses coming.There was always a way to ride...What the man had leftmight've been a coma or just sleep.He might've left himself for dead,now lives for the dream to keep.Who and what she once was....was written than erased.Whether it had suited her heart,now had absoluteley no place.They were always horses coming.Always another metal blue sky.And plenty of love to soothewhen their thoughts would water their eyes.There was always hosres coming.There was always a way to ride...