The dusk will be upon us, caught in the autumn cold
And I won’t be hollering for anything to save my soul
Don’t matter what I pray to, Don’t matter what I know
Whether I fight or flight, I’m gonna make that journey home

I’m on my grind
Until my time
But I’m letting go
Of what I can’t control

Through the euphoria and the animosity
I’m constantly reminded I am man and not machine
That’s why I bellow out a banshee rocking scream
In the jagged canyon bottom by the salmon flopping stream
I mean, I’m from the school of deuces to excuses my love
Where the masters view the beauty in the sewage and mud
That naked honesty is usually how I do what I does
And make it so they tell the [bad word] up in my eulogy (uh)

The dusk will be upon us, caught in the autumn cold
And I won’t be hollering for anything to save my soul
Don’t matter what I pray to, Don’t matter what I know
Whether I fight or flight, I’m gonna make that journey home

I’m on my grind
Until my time
But I’m letting go
Of what I can’t control

The darkness plays its magic tricks and makes the panic waken
I swore I saw some gnashing fangs upon the shadow’s faces [bad word] to find it was a product of my imagination
What was certain doom was just a couple branches shaken
Really, I mean? Silliest me. From frightened and freaked to chill in the breeze
Wishing the prettiest missy I missed was sharing my pillow and still in my sheets
But I wouldn’t trade it, it’s part of the trip, survival of [bad word]  Darwinistic
I vibe with the mystic, no harbinger tip yeah I’m riding this mission as far as I get

Moons ago I watched the salmon spawning in a still creek
The torn remains of those who passed were rotting fresh and filthy
The handful left were idle with their tired bodies wilting
This journey that I’ve loved to live will prolly be what kills me