All I can hear is wind shouting though the forest
All I can hear is the sun as it's shining
I wish I was home but I'm lost
They say she's waiting by the Natchez Trace
In all the silver thread and cold black lace
When she put you in your resting place
Would you take my gold or leave my soul unscathed
All I can hear is the howling wind and a haunting woman I know
'Cause all the angels in heaven, devils in hell
I think I'm caught in this rock and roll
She's waiting by the Natchez Trace
In all the silver thread and cold black...
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