Fold-out sleeve with liner notes & more photos by Cassandra Mohr.
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God’s paintin’ horses in the early desert dawn
& I’m runnin’ outta roses to pin my dreams upon - I’m sleepin’ like a Santa Ana crossin’ Californ’ would ya hide with me, ride out these storms? Hide with me, ride out these storms.
The saddle nail’s are rusted & the latigo’s torn & it’s cold like creation, eighteen winters alone - they cut my hair & they shot my horse -
would you hide with me, ride out these storms? Hide with me, ride out these storms.
I stole an ol’ paint - he says his name’s Salvador,
& I feed him all the diamonds this .44 affords
we left Jicarilla like a prayer leaves a whore,
honey I was born, I was born, I was born, I was born I was born in this storm.