Colours were fading in the thickness of the Southern night
A cold breeze cut through the thick air like a knife
It was a stormy night, she was a tired one
His face and hair were white, his hands cold as stone
Sayin' "The victim is never one. And the killer's never alone"
They met like the wind meets the clouds
His bloody hands dripped as he walked
For two days none of them dared talk
They met like the wind meets the clouds
Third dawn came and she asked
What kind of
What kind of
The orange sky turned into black
The black sky turned into blue
Then the blue sky turned into white
"I usually kill women like you
And go for a ride when I'm done
I go for a ride when I'm done"
Sixth dawn she knew was the last
His face was clear, his grin was dark
The moon was full and the knife was sharp
"Oh don't you beg or cry it won't be fast'
In the last breath she fought for she asked why
"I wanna go for a ride"
Before the throat bled she sighed
Why
If not for the money, if not for the rape?"
To the flesh lyin' dead, he said
"I ride the world
I ride the world
For all the highway landscapes"
Highway landscapes
Highway landscapes