On the old forgotten crossways where the fourteen rivers did meet
The bones of our elders were lying in the street
On a dark and dusty desert like a ghost I've flown
I barely cried wherever I ride, I never found a home
Mmm feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing
Mmm feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing
I am a ramshackler, I go from town to town
And when there is no shelter, I lay down on the ground
I killed every reason they gave for me to stay
Cussed and moaned and burned to bone and dragged that thing away
Mmm you feel the peace of sorrow never ceasing
Mmm you feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing
There's saints and there's animals, they've taken what they could
And it's written in the pages: "Do just like they should"
They stood the test and burned the rest and tore them limb from limb
And it's marked upon their faces, it's written on their skin
Mmm feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing
Mmm feel the strain of sorrow never ceasing