On the northern country trail
I'm not feeling very well
As my footsteps start to fade
How my thoughts they drift away
From the tunnels all of green
To other places that I've been
To dark tunnels of their own
To every kiss I can recall
From the ones that were a gift
To the ones I straight up stole
All the patterns in between
What's transmitted and received
All the shadows in their curl
All my footsteps they return
To the tunnels all of green
From other places that I've been
From dark tunnels of my own
To every kiss I can recall
From the ones that were a gift
To the ones I straight up stole