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Roger Hoover & The Hurt
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Eastern Standard Time
Rain comes down like railroad spikes on just you and I
I can hear train whistles blowing and children crying
my life is spent trying to get back home to see the mirror of your eyes
hope that you will be there when I die
way I've been sleeping my back and shoulder's tired
I can hear you crying through the moonlight and the pine
find myself rambling through the land of the blind
hope that you will be there when I die
tonight I cross the border with persimmon and wine
i can hear you crying through the moonlight and the pine
miss you just the same in eastern standard time
hope that you will be there when I die
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