Stolen Shoes & a Rifle

Weather is like feathers on fire Ground's like a sound in my feet I can’t stop my shaking I’ve been traveling so low And the shoes I’ve been wearing, well they’re long and somewhat slow And a giant waking bird shakes the trees above my head Stolen shoes and a rifle I just can’t seem to stay dead Oh the stones won’t be lonely here this year it's gone now My lover she’s got brothers down in Natchez They worship at the foot of the keep My trails been cold for days but I hear them all the same Scattered out like wildfire on the plain And the giant waking bird shakes the trees above my head Stolen shoes and a rifle I just can’t seem to stay dead Oh the stones won’t be lonely here this year it's gone now Weather is like feathers on fire