Your circle broke when you left for the backroads. Up jumped the devil and your soul had to follow. Not the devil that you follow. Everyone giving good pieces of their mind. You just ran and left them all at the wayside. Getting the [bad word] of out of Stateside. Never blinked when you walked into the unknown over sun scorched hills and woods overgrown. But this is nothing like no backcountry that you know. No this ain't nothing like no backcountry that you know. Someone’s got their hands pressed over both eyes. Never blinked when you toed all the crooked lines. For God and Country all the traitors are gonna die. For God and Country all the Heathens are gonna die. Now I see the dread in [bad word] day and I miss my home oh so far away. Real American grace. What I wouldn't give to feel again Dakota winds blowing fierce across my weather burned face.Those who leave no trace.