Description
Producer: The Band of Heathens
Producer: Jim Vollentine
Lyrics and translation
Original
I got a Western way of leaving
A Southern style of believing
My Northern star for living, a weathered intuition
To fill the rearview mirror
With miles of Eastern pines
But I got no direction if I can't call you mine
Hmm-mm-mm-mm
Coffee's cold, the diner's getting loud
My angel in my ear says, "Let's break out of this crowd"
It's time to go
Well, that ain't nothing new
So, I'll just head on out of view, down the road a stone or two
With my Western way of leaving
A Southern style of believing
My Northern star for living, a weathered intuition
To fill the rearview mirror
With miles of Eastern pines
But I got no direction if I can't call you mine
Hmm-mm-mm-mm
Hmm-mm-mm-mm
If you're gone, don't be gone for good
I'd turn back the time every morning if I could
So, here I lay
Watch the fan blade cut a breeze
I dust off your memory
'Cause I can't change what's come to be
I got a Western way of leaving
A Southern style of believing
My Northern star for living, a weathered intuition
To fill the rearview mirror
With miles of Eastern pines
But I got no direction if I can't call you mine
Oh, I got no direction if I can't call you mine
Hmm-mm-mm-mm
Hmm-mm-mm-mm
English translation
I got a Western way of leaving
A Southern style of believing
My Northern star for living, a weathered intuition
To fill the rearview mirror
With miles of Eastern pines
But I got no direction if I can't call you mine
Hmm-mm-mm-mm
Coffee's cold, the diner's getting loud
My angel in my ear says, "Let's break out of this crowd"
It's time to go
Well, that ain't nothing new
So, I'll just head on out of view, down the road a stone or two
With my Western way of leaving
A Southern style of believing
My Northern star for living, a weathered intuition
To fill the rearview mirror
With miles of Eastern pines
But I got no direction if I can't call you mine
Hmm-mm-mm-mm
Hmm-mm-mm-mm
If you're gone, don't be gone for good
I'd turn back the time every morning if I could
So, here I lay
Watch the fan blade cut a breeze
I dust off your memory
'Cause I can't change what's come to be
I got a Western way of leaving
A Southern style of believing
My Northern star for living, a weathered intuition
To fill the rearview mirror
With miles of Eastern pines
But I got no direction if I can't call you mine
Oh, I got no direction if I can't call you mine
Hmm-mm-mm-mm
Hmm-mm-mm-mm