Big Sky Land - Kaleidobolt

Down the road with dry eyes now, I’m a wayward saint

This town between you and me, came rumbling down like rain

Times are changing with decent pace, at least the sky is fine

Fine line of your pride and I might

Have secured my days in bright light

Fort to fort away down yonder, across the black stream of unjust

Will it be me to judge who can try his luck?

Letters short journeys long, that’s all I care

Big sky land and a see of grass

Place where murder wants to grow old