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Smoke stack smoke stack, |
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I long to get back, |
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Down a long road, |
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Cuts through the pines, |
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Smoke stack smoke stack, |
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I long to get back, |
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All these pulp mill towns, |
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Aren't for mine |
|
Smoke stack smoke stack, |
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My wheels were on track, |
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But like a long and slow rewind, |
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To where I've been, |
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Smoke stack smoke stack, |
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I long to get back, |
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How you're quiet in the night, |
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And in the morning |
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Well you're a lion in the morning when you come, |
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And I hoped that I could feel that, |
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'Cause here I'm dying more each morning growing numb, |
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But alongways down the road to where it rises, |
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They're all lions there, |
|
Smoke stack smoke stack, |
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I long to get back, |
|
Down a long road, |
|
Back through the pines, |
|
Smoke stack smoke stack, |
|
I long to get back, |
|
Down a long road, |
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Getting wider as it rises, |
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To get back winding through the trees, |
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To get back, smaller by degrees. |
