Brother left the mine in November
strung out one foot in the grave
i thought i heard him crying on the bathroom floor
it's hard to recognize the brave
the smell of the blue vinyl bus seats
the hum of the engine below
the rhythm of the telephone poles going by
and the endless broken road
brother you just can't be everywhere
and no you can't please everyone
and so let go of your aching heart
and learn to love your place
some things up ahead are illusions
could say the same of the things left behind
the dirty black soot in the grit of your teeth
and the sirens in your mind