On the northern country trail I'm not feeling very well As my footsteps start to fade How my thoughts they drift away From the tunnels all of green To other places that I've been To dark tunnels of their own To every kiss I can recall From the ones that were a gift To the ones I straight up stole All the patterns in between What's transmitted and received All the shadows in their curl All my footsteps they return To the tunnels all of green From other places that I've been From dark tunnels of my own To every kiss I can recall From the ones that were a gift To the ones I straight up stole