Stolen Shoes & a Rifle

Weather is like feathers on fire
 Ground's like a sound in my feet
 I can't stop my shaking I've been traveling so low
 And the shoes I've been wearing, well they're long and somewhat slow
 And a giant waking bird shakes the trees above my head
 Stolen shoes and a rifle I just can't seem to stay dead
 Oh the stones won't be lonely here this year it's gone now
 My lover she's got brothers down in Natchez
 They worship at the foot of the keep
 My trails been cold for days but I hear them all the same
 Scattered out like wildfire on the plain
 And the giant waking bird shakes the trees above my head
 Stolen shoes and a rifle I just can't seem to stay dead
 Oh the stones won't be lonely here this year it's gone now
 Weather is like feathers on fire