Sowing Wind (Ripping Storm)

The fields are dry, the sky's gone black
Boots in the dust, no turning back
I've been chasing ghosts down a crooked road
Trading my silver for a heavy load
Every seed I've thrown was born of spite
Watered with whiskey, sown at night
The crows all circle, they know my name
They smell the thunder, they taste the blame
Sowing wind in the dead of night
Praying wrong could turn to right
But the ground remembers every sin
And it's calling my harvest in
The preacher warned, the old folks cried
Said, "Son, you can't outrun the tide"
But I kept plowing through the pain
Now the black clouds rise like a runaway train
You can't bargain with the sky
You can't teach the rain to lie
When the roots run deep in the devil's ground
The storm will come, it won't back down
Sowing wind in the dead of night
Praying wrong could turn to right
But the ground remembers every sin
And it's calling my harvest in
Now the lightning's warm…
And I'm reaping storm.