The life of Dean Winchester – Part 2

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In the woods out there at night

I sit cold; but there is no fright

The rustling leaves, the fading moon

You say it’s a story that’s been told

But baby this is a whole new tune

Some days are about the search

Demons and dust, love’s wicked lust

Down the road there lies a church

Who knows who’s right

Who knows what’s just

I watch you move, turning the pages of life’s book

A tale you weave; a chance I took

They say it’s wrong; no one’s that strong

But through the fire alone, honey you learn where you belong

So I cock the gun and split a round

The ghosts of choices haunting our highways

Right now it’s here; tomorrow a new town

What can I say; there are days and then there are days

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