The Rolling Sky

Shotguns and those Cuban cigars,
flathead motorcycles and steel guitars,
they all tasted sweet, but were never as complete
as going down with you beneath the stars.

Old lovers, and the loves not to be,
the thousands things you thought would make your free,
let them all fall away with the colors of the day
as the sun sinks down behind the sea.

Take no care for yesterday, it's a memory,
no stock in tomorrow, it's a lie.
Drop the disguise that you wear behind your eyes,
and in the simple breathing of a sigh,
meet me here out beneath the rolling sky.

Alarm clocks and the hours that we do
behind a desk until the day is through,
and the weariness you feel headed home behind the wheel
with only your grace to see you through.

Take no care for yesterday, it's a memory,
no stock in tomorrow, it's a lie.
Drop the disguise that you wear behind your eyes,
and in the simple breathing of a sigh,
meet me here out beneath the rolling sky.

So give me shotguns and those Cuban cigars,
flathead motorcycles and steel guitars.
They all tasted sweet, but were never as complete
as going down with you beneath the stars.

Take no care for yesterday, it's a memory,
no stock in tomorrow, it's a lie.
Drop the disguise that you wear behind your eyes,
and in the simple breathing of a sigh,
meet me here out beneath the rolling sky.