I told all my friends,
That I was never coming back, back again
And all these short comings
And reasons for running
Were directly related to the way that I felt in the city

So I’m going to the country,
I’m going to the farm
I’m living off of rye and beans,
Working my hands and my arms to the bone

Until the cows come home,
Until the water runs clean
I’ll discover the good,
And find out what it means to breathe

Oh it’s been ten long years since I left
It’s been life, it’s been death
I’ve fallen down, I brought my guns to town
And they already think that I’m strange
I’ll be singing home, home on the range

And I’m not that city man, I was raised in a barn
Broke loose from a life I was shackled,
The future wasn’t bright
An explosive I dared to disarm

Until it feels right to leave
I’ll stay lost and alone
When the time is right for fighting
Even my tracks will be gone