it's hard to heal on the road it's hard to process when you've got no home it's hard to sort through the memories that paralyze in motion oh have I been here before swear I've seen the farms turn into these cliffs how did I make it this far once again how do my feet keep touching this stolen land oh when will I rest when will the desert winds hold me again now it's cheap coffee and the highway and these men and as we crossed the cascades into the densest of clouds I knew it was gonna stay hard as they obscured the low sitting western sun that we'd been hitchin into