Old friend, your horses ready to ride when morning comes.
From this church town where damning rumors drip from holy tongues.

And it won't go away, it won't go away, it won't go away.

The fever to find the scapegoat fast and fix the blame.
I know you never meant to leave the way you came.

And it won't go away, it won't go away, it won't go away.

Looking down from their stain glass steeples they'll never know why you had to run.
Ride as fast as you can, they're shooting to kill.
Ride as fast as you can, they're shooting to kill.
Ride as fast as you can, they're shooting to kill.
Ride as fast as you can, they're shooting to kill.