I was running from a lynch mob
Maybe running just to run
No, I was running like my old man
Running like a drifter's son
I pulled that metal to the shoulder
And just let the engine run
And spent at least an hour there
At both ends of a gun
Off this stone road sits a dirt lane
That separates two fields
Where I used to like to go to think
When I wasn't spinning wheels
Where the stars spread out forever
Till they vanished in the sun
And I'd watch it all through a windshield
And from both ends of a gun
Now there comes a time in some men's lives
When it feels like all is lost
When the last decision left to make
Is the army or the cross
Well, I never was all that disciplined
And my time of faith's long done
And amazing grace don't show her face
At both ends of a gun
In the spring of 1985
I was nine years old
Church folk pulled me aside
And this hillbilly preacher told me
Boy, your daddy died in his car last night
Out past Townline 41
And somebody whispered something
About both ends of a gun
There's this lighthouse on Lake Erie
Only it don't shine no more
It's just some old, rusted out iron
With a primer gray door
I always wanted to swim to the other side
I just never had the lungs
And there ain't no treading water
From both ends of a gun
They say time can heal all wounds
I say not the ones that kill
Those just leave you with a slow bleed
Till you find a decent pill
But I felt them roll that stone away
First time I held my son
And I prayed he'd never greet a day
From both ends of a gun
Anymore, I'm thinking less about that door
Preachers, stones and hollow bones, all ancient metaphors
I've seen two-day sober junkies
I've heard women speak in tongues
Ain't nothing good at either end of it
I was running from a lynch mob
Maybe running just to run
No, I was running like my old man
Running like a drifter's son
© Copyright 2007, Dirtsandwich Music Company. (BMI)