Something is crying in a cradle
Through an open window
The changing the channels
Back behind the building, the brook babbles.
The shutters rattle
Women light candles
I probably shouldn't be here
A writer gets paid to put down in ink
Pretend he believes all the thoughts that he thinks
While the sweat from his brow washes into the sink
And down, into the valley of tears.
Storms, lights on the road.
Yeah, you're traveling fast, so you travel alone.
Storms, lights on the road.
Go with the grace of God
Bring everything that you own
What happened to the face in my wallet?
When I went traveling, why didn't it follow?
And now the cheeks are hollow
I turn on the pillow.
The maid looks at me and says, "Señor,
The ending is near."
The notebooks are filled with figures and signs
To ease up the day, to soften the time
They spill out like wine, and on down the line
Into the valley of tears.
Storms, lights on the road.
Yeah, you're traveling fast, so you travel alone.
Storms, lights on the road.
Go with the grace of God
Bring everything that you own.
Now the valley is covered in shadows
All the thoughts I used to think mattered
Like soldiers scattered on a field after battle
I'm standing here; I'm waiting for the mist to clear.
I'll empty my pockets, quill tips and books
Sit on the bridge with my feet in the brook
Look out past the edge, one long look
Into the valley of tears
Storms, lights on the road.
Yeah, you're traveling fast, so you travel alone.
Storms, lights on the road.
Go with the grace of God
Bring everything that you own.
Storms.
Through rain, storms.
Its a night shadows, clouds scatter
Through the heat, and the rain, oh.
Storms, storms, oh, oh.