Broken Horses Carlile, Brandi I wear my father's leather on the inside of my skin I'm a tried and weathered woman, but I won't be tried again Don't think that you can come for me without your Sunday best You had better call your priest and hope the devil gets the rest before I do Oh, and I will do... I have worn the jester's bells and I have banished with the fools I have worshiped at the altar of the puppet master's rules I have held my tongue too many scenes before the final act With my children in the cheap seats and a zipper on my back, thanks to you No thanks to you... Tethered in wide open spaces, and fields that lead for miles Right into the barrel of a gun Mendin' up your fences with my horses runnin' wild Only broken horses know to run I have ever so politely treaded softly for your grace I have whispered through the tears and pleaded sweetly to your face It is time to spit you out like lukewarm water from my mouth I will always taste the apathy, but I won't pass it down, it dies with you You... Tethered in wide open spaces, and fields that lead for miles Right into the barrel of a gun Mendin' up your fences with my horses runnin' wild Only broken horses know to run [Solo] I wear my father's leather on the inside of my skin I'm a tried and weathered woman, but I won't be tried again Don't think that you can come for me without your Sunday best You had better call your priest and hope the devil gets the rest, before I do Oh, and I will do... Tethered in wide open spaces, and fields that lead for miles Right into the barrel of a gun Mendin' up your fences with my horses runnin' wild Only broken horses know to run