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The sun is setting over the Appalachian Trail.
A coyote howls the days last tale.
Darkness sets onto the land.
It’s a dark time for this southern man.

The coals simmer in the fire so low.
I sit in sorrow as the smoke start to blow.
I feel the war roaring through my veins.
I should of died fighting on those plains.

The wounds of flesh have healed you see.
It’s the wound inside that will not let him be.
The steel turns cold as time grows old.
The war is over but still goes on.

When will it be, oh when will it be.
When it’s time to rest for eternity.
I can not wait for the time to come.
To get away from a time undone.