Dead Man's Hand

Yellow lines, in the dead of the night
Oh, I was heading back out West
Trying to keep my eyes open wide
I′d gone days without any rest
Saw a line in the road looking back
About twenty yards ahead
You come back from a trip to the East
But you don’t come back from the dead
Sure as hell he was dead as they come,
And he was already starting to smell
Just a kid, with his hair slicked back
And a knife tucked into his belt
Was he unforgiven
Or just tired of living a life that never felt like his?
Though I was worn and weary
I thought I′d bury him
And lay his soul to rest out in the desert night
I laid him down, in a grave in the sand
And he grabbed my arm with his dead man’s hand
He said “I know I’m dead
But I don′t want to lie in a grave out here where the coyotes cry.
I stared right into the endless Void,
And I ain′t going back if I got any choice
I know how to live, I don’t know how to die,
And there ain′t no thrills in the afterlife
So lift me up out of here, my friend,
And I’ll wander the night ′til the ages end.”
Lit by the moon, he walked through the sand,
And he waved “goodbye” with his dead man’s hand

And he will roam, forever, unto the desert
And he will roam, forever, unto the desert