Shirt in the Wind

Driving cross the prairie, no one in sight for hours
A lonely house appears and I wonder who is living there
Next to the run down tractor there is a homemade clothesline
The sheets and shirts are waving like they’re running from a dust storm
I no longer have an address. My clothes are in a suitcase
I don’t know where I am but being lost seems so familiar
I am the run down tractor. I am the homemade clothesline
The sheets and shirts are waving like they’re dancing at a honky-tonk
Who is the one who lives here? Have I ever been that lonely?
Is that the wind that’s crying or coyotes in the grassland?
Feel like a shirt in the wind, feel like my threads are showing thin
Losing my shape against the sky, I can’t remember why
Feel like a shirt in the wind, feel like my spirit is growing thin
Like a dress that’s flying high, pinned against the sky
I can’t remember why
The city is before me, the lights define the skyline
A job is waiting for me a like a pair of shiny handcuffs
I see the tractor in the mirror. The sheets and shirts are still now
And the shadow of a woman who once could dance the night away
The rain that crossed the prairie evaporates to nowhere
The storm that came is a storm that passed and I made it to the morning
Feel like a shirt in the wind — Feel like my threads are showing thin
Losing my shape against the sky, and I can’t remember why I
Feel like a shirt in the wind, losing my shape against my skin
I am a dress that’s flying high, pinned against the sky
Just the clouds and I