Natchez Trace

We're burning up the Natchez Trace From Jackson up to Tupelo way There're secrets here in these woods Buried deep in the old red clay There's something out beyond the shroud They don't want you to see And it's slowly taking hold of me If it's the angel eating bullets Or the phantom's smoking gun You can hear them crying out Where the deed was done There ain't no amount of wishing Gonna get you out of this Cause you're just as close to Heaven As you're ever gonna get No way but through now, I suppose And I'm smoking dope with Lewis's ghost There's a fire on the mound And there's cinder in my veins The banshees came a creeping In the throes of their cocaine They sank their teeth into their prey And drifted back again Well, it's the angels eating bullets It's the phantom's smoking gun It's someone always crying Out where the deed was done There ain't no amount of wishing Gonna get you out of this Cause you're just as close to Heaven As you're ever gonna get The Trace can leave you rotten Tangled up and dirty mess The shades and wraiths of yesterday Come for my pound of flesh There ain't no amount of wishing Gonna get me out of this Cause I'm just as close to Heaven As I'm ever gonna get There ain't no amount of wishing Gonna get us out of this Cause we're just as close to Heaven As we're ever gonna get.