Dust On Your Soul

There is mud on my boots and soot on the wall

And the four o'clock church bells are ringing

There are ghosts in my hallways who whisper and always

A tear in my voice when I sing

And my mind it is scarred by barley

And I am grown sorrowfully crippled and old

There is rust in my joints and dust

Dust on my soul

I was down on my luck and black and blue

And thinking it's not like it used to be

You were all stuck on a blond ingenue

Who was wrapping you all around her pinky

And then I got all beer-eyed and everyone realized

It too late for me to control

The lust in my heart and the dust

The dust on my soul

There is mud on the jacket and crud on the blanket

And butts on your gold feather boa

And the eyes of the strangers drank in the cold

On the banks of the old Shenandoah

And my mind it was torn between blackness and form

And you warn that's how life takes its toll

You get must in your clothes and dust

Dust on your soul