No Roads Here
๐ต 1265 characters
โฑ๏ธ 3:21 duration
๐ ID: 6700844
๐ Lyrics
There are no roads here
There are no signposts
To guide a man thru this dark land
There are no roads here
There is no history
No written law to stay one's hand
Well there's a growed over wagon trail that's headed for the west
There's a tipi ring out to Purple Springs if your ponies need their rest
There's a shepherd out in Vauxhall and the coulees who may know
But the sheep shack's old and leaning and that was sixty years ago
There are no roads here
There are no signposts
To guide a man thru this dark land
There are no roads here
There is no history
No written law to stay one's hand
Well, I see handcarts pulled by desperate settlers bent under the yoke
Fleeing lives of certain serfdom for this new faith of which he spoke
Trekking 'cross the desert with a few intrepid Danes
There's times I still think I can feel the blood of Vikings in my veins
I hear "Strawberry Roan" and there's bison bones been bleached out in the sun
South of Raymond, whiskey trade, the antelope still run
Hidden family reasons at the edge of consciousness
Silhouettes of grazing cattle on that olde Milk River Ridge
There are no roads here
There are no signposts
To guide a man thru this dark land
There are no roads here
There is no history
No written law to stay one's hand
There are no signposts
To guide a man thru this dark land
There are no roads here
There is no history
No written law to stay one's hand
Well there's a growed over wagon trail that's headed for the west
There's a tipi ring out to Purple Springs if your ponies need their rest
There's a shepherd out in Vauxhall and the coulees who may know
But the sheep shack's old and leaning and that was sixty years ago
There are no roads here
There are no signposts
To guide a man thru this dark land
There are no roads here
There is no history
No written law to stay one's hand
Well, I see handcarts pulled by desperate settlers bent under the yoke
Fleeing lives of certain serfdom for this new faith of which he spoke
Trekking 'cross the desert with a few intrepid Danes
There's times I still think I can feel the blood of Vikings in my veins
I hear "Strawberry Roan" and there's bison bones been bleached out in the sun
South of Raymond, whiskey trade, the antelope still run
Hidden family reasons at the edge of consciousness
Silhouettes of grazing cattle on that olde Milk River Ridge
There are no roads here
There are no signposts
To guide a man thru this dark land
There are no roads here
There is no history
No written law to stay one's hand
โฑ๏ธ Synced Lyrics
[00:38.50] There are no roads here
[00:40.47] There are no signposts
[00:42.26] To guide a man thru this dark land
[00:46.77] There are no roads here
[00:48.57] There is no history
[00:50.33] No written law to stay one's hand
[01:00.30] Well there's a growed over wagon trail that's headed for the west
[01:04.93] There's a tipi ring out to Purple Springs if your ponies need their rest
[01:08.50] There's a shepherd out in Vauxhall and the coulees who may know
[01:13.02] But the sheep shack's old and leaning and that was sixty years ago
[01:16.73] There are no roads here
[01:19.44] There are no signposts
[01:21.24] To guide a man thru this dark land
[01:24.81] There are no roads here
[01:26.76] There is no history
[01:29.48] No written law to stay one's hand
[01:37.66] Well, I see handcarts pulled by desperate settlers bent under the yoke
[01:42.29] Fleeing lives of certain serfdom for this new faith of which he spoke
[01:46.77] Trekking 'cross the desert with a few intrepid Danes
[01:50.45] There's times I still think I can feel the blood of Vikings in my veins
[02:15.88] I hear "Strawberry Roan" and there's bison bones been bleached out in the sun
[02:20.34] South of Raymond, whiskey trade, the antelope still run
[02:24.82] Hidden family reasons at the edge of consciousness
[02:28.42] Silhouettes of grazing cattle on that olde Milk River Ridge
[02:32.18] There are no roads here
[02:33.97] There are no signposts
[02:36.65] To guide a man thru this dark land
[02:40.36] There are no roads here
[02:43.05] There is no history
[02:44.84] No written law to stay one's hand
[02:52.10]
[00:40.47] There are no signposts
[00:42.26] To guide a man thru this dark land
[00:46.77] There are no roads here
[00:48.57] There is no history
[00:50.33] No written law to stay one's hand
[01:00.30] Well there's a growed over wagon trail that's headed for the west
[01:04.93] There's a tipi ring out to Purple Springs if your ponies need their rest
[01:08.50] There's a shepherd out in Vauxhall and the coulees who may know
[01:13.02] But the sheep shack's old and leaning and that was sixty years ago
[01:16.73] There are no roads here
[01:19.44] There are no signposts
[01:21.24] To guide a man thru this dark land
[01:24.81] There are no roads here
[01:26.76] There is no history
[01:29.48] No written law to stay one's hand
[01:37.66] Well, I see handcarts pulled by desperate settlers bent under the yoke
[01:42.29] Fleeing lives of certain serfdom for this new faith of which he spoke
[01:46.77] Trekking 'cross the desert with a few intrepid Danes
[01:50.45] There's times I still think I can feel the blood of Vikings in my veins
[02:15.88] I hear "Strawberry Roan" and there's bison bones been bleached out in the sun
[02:20.34] South of Raymond, whiskey trade, the antelope still run
[02:24.82] Hidden family reasons at the edge of consciousness
[02:28.42] Silhouettes of grazing cattle on that olde Milk River Ridge
[02:32.18] There are no roads here
[02:33.97] There are no signposts
[02:36.65] To guide a man thru this dark land
[02:40.36] There are no roads here
[02:43.05] There is no history
[02:44.84] No written law to stay one's hand
[02:52.10]