Brandi Carlile — Broken Horses (In The Canyon Haze)

I wear my father's leather on the inside of my skin
I'm a tried and weathered woman, but I won't be tried again
Don't think that you can come for me without your Sunday best
You had better call your priest and hope, oh, the devil gets the rest
Before I do
Oh, no, and I will do

I've worn the jester's bells and I have vanished with the fools
I have worshiped at the altar of the puppet master's rule
I have held my tongue too many scenes before the final act
With my children in the cheap seats and a zipper on my back
Thanks to you
No, thanks to you

Tethered in wide open spaces
In fields that lead for miles
Right into the barrel of a gun
Mendin' up your fences with my
Horses runnin' wild
Only broken horses know to run

I have ever so politely treaded softly for your praise
I have whispered through the tears and pleaded sweetly to your face
It is time to spit you out like lukewarm water from my mouth
I will always taste the apathy, but I won't pass it down
It dies with you
Oh, with you

Tethered in wide open spaces
In fields that lead for miles
Right into the barrel of a gun
Mendin' up your fences with my
Horses runnin' wild
Only broken horses know to run

I wear my father's leather on the inside of my skin
I'm a tried and weathered woman, but I won't be tried again
Don't think that you can come for me without your Sunday best
You had better call your priest and hope, oh, the devil gets the rest
Before I do
Oh, oh no, and I will do

Tethered in wide open spaces
(Tethered in wide open spaces)
In fields that lead for miles
Right into the barrel of a gun
Mendin' up your fences with my
Horses runnin' wild
Only broken horses know

Mendin' up your fences with my
Horses runnin' wild
Only broken horses know
Only broken horses know
Only broken horses know to run