West - Radical Face

Familiar ground’s a distant thing

When you travel vague and crooked roads

And the sun’s a scab on vacant skies

Now we always hope we’re still alone

There’s too much time for idle minds

Imagination’s armed with hooks and knives

We count our fears to pass the time

Tired or not, don’t close your eyes

A picket fence

A painted house

A quiet life

One where our days are calm

And night’s are spent in kind

One where our hopes and dreams

Are attainable things

One where time can’t reach

Gain half the plains now

Cut mountain chains down

Sleep when you can

You can’t know how the night’s fall

Things will be better there

Things will be good there

Don’t stop to think

Just chase the dream we’re chasing

I smell the fireplace

Warm light, a warm face

A quiet life

A life, a life, a life, a life

A life along the breeze

The dogs came at midnight

Guns drawn and eye’s bright

I heard them laughin'

Black voices scratchin'

Black wind they move like

Our lives ain’t worth the millions

As dog’s tear the canvas

Flies on the carcass

But it buys the time we need

The dogs came at midnight

The dogs came at midnight

The dogs came at midnight

And I always hear them laughing