down from the hill

sage brush hillsides buried under snow
branches poke out whispering where to go
resting up here above the whole damn town
dogs in streets while cars shift and slow down

snowplows scrape and shake gravel on the street
while my heater clicks and windows steam
couple on a corner huddled against the storm
foreheads touching trying to keep warm

and i know that this storm will pass but every day has some sort of passing storm (x2)

horses huddle with their blankets on
bundled hay from this morning already gone
every doorway shelter from the cold
but i keep driving i just want to go home

and i know that this storm will pass but every day has some sort of passing storm (x2)

sage brush hillsides buried under snow
branches poke out whispering where to go
every doorway shelter from the cold
but i keep driving i just want to go home