On a dead white road His black hat low Mouth full of smoke And a soul gone below Heat line shaking No borrowed name Iron on the hip And the sun gone insane Rode past mercy Rode past law Past the last green thing The living world saw Horse ribs working Dust in the blood Sky split open Like a mouth in the mud He don’t run He don’t hide He just cuts through noon On the wrong side Buzzards above him Slow black wheel Silver in the boot And a heart made steel No book No home No hand to save Only hoof marks writing On a desert grave By sundown He was less than a man More like a curse Moving under the sand He don’t run He don’t hide He just cuts through noon On the wrong side On a dead white road His black hat low With a mouth full of smoke And a soul gone below Soul gone below Soul gone below Soul gone below Soul gone below Soul gone below
