Скачать или смотреть DJ Rusty Squirrelz Dusty Loco In Texas

trains, locomotives, rock, indie rock, country, alternative rock, joyfull, feel good, fast, breezy

Verse 1
Out where the red dirt meets the long horizon,
There’s a line of rusted engines sleepin’ in the sun.
Steel bones fading in the heat of the morning,
Tracks go nowhere, but they once used to run.
Wind hums low through the hollowed‑out cabins,
Whistlin’ stories only old rails know.
Every bolt and beam remembers the thunder
Of a thousand miles they used to go.

Chorus
Dusty locomotives in Texas,
Dreamin’ of the days they were kings of the line.
Rolling through the plains with a fire in their chests,
Pulling every heartbeat from town to town in time.
Now they’re quiet in the shadow of the mesas,
But the spirit of the rails never rests.
Dusty locomotives in Texas,
Still pounding like a ghost in the west.

Verse 2
Cowboys lean on the fence by the depot,
Talking ’bout the nights when the whistles cried.
Families waving as the lanterns were swinging,
Watching silver engines cut the dark like a tide.
Now tumbleweeds drift where the platforms once crowded,
And the sun paints gold on the iron and the grime.
But if you listen close when the dusk settles in,
You’ll hear the echo of a long‑gone time.

Chorus
Dusty locomotives in Texas,
Dreamin’ of the days they were kings of the line.
Rolling through the plains with a fire in their chests,
Pulling every heartbeat from town to town in time.
Now they’re quiet in the shadow of the mesas,
But the spirit of the rails never rests.
Dusty locomotives in Texas,
Still pounding like a ghost in the west.

Bridge
Maybe someday someone’ll come and wake ’em,
Brush off the rust and light the flame again.
Let the wheels turn slow, then faster and faster,
Till the whole wide desert starts to tremble in the wind.
But even if they stay where the sagebrush gathers,
They’ve already carved their names in the land.
Every mile of track is a memory burning,
Laid down by a steel‑and‑thunder band.

Final Chorus
Dusty locomotives in Texas,
Dreamin’ of the days they were kings of the line.
Rolling through the plains with a fire in their chests,
Pulling every heartbeat from town to town in time.
They may slumber in the shadow of the mesas,
But the spirit of the rails never rests.
Dusty locomotives in Texas,
Still pounding like a ghost in the west.