We traced the contours of the West across the hanging highlands Kicking snow from our boots huddled outside the café door Lee Marvin on the jukebox and all our hearts stolen The beginning is in feeling things we never even saw I remember sleeping in the long grass I could hear the traffic rolling I woke early in the morning and I felt the fallen dew And when the motorbikes roared out of the woods I just stood there smiling We were always after something We were always chasing something Now the white birds have long flown across unraveling nations And a thousand ghosts pass through us all every day They blow like the wind through empty rooms of empty houses Until nothing feels as close to us as far away And when the wheels came off the tracks Worn out by years of rolling I was thrown from the wreckage and landed beneath the trees Through the half-light I looked above And watched the branches waving We were always after something We were always chasing something Until moving becomes everything Until moving just becomes everything