Sweet Niobrara by The Wildwoods

I love the feeling of the highway, and the rumble and the kick beneath my toes.
The freedom of the asphalt, the smell of it still lingers on my clothes.
Double lines like dominoes, fall against each other on the open road.
I won’t forget you when you’re next to me. I’ll sound the horn to keep you awake.

Sweet Niobrara, in the morning I will leave for Valentine.
Highway 12, is a fine stretch of country, to clear a foggy mind.
Niobrara, I am leaving you behind.

Stopping for a miller, dirty glasses from the farmers' muddy hands.
They’re cracking jokes across the bar, a day of working on their precious land.
Near the end of harvest, the clouds, they roam like buffalo in the sky.
A simple way of living, can sharpen up the dullest of knives.

Sweet Niobrara, in the morning I will leave for Valentine.
Highway 12, is a fine stretch of country, to clear a foggy mind.
Niobrara, I am leaving you behind.

Sweet Niobrara, in the morning I will leave for Valentine.
Highway 12, is a fine stretch of country, to clear a foggy mind.
Niobrara, I am leaving you.
Niobrara, I am leaving you.
Niobrara, I am leaving you behind.

• Americana
• Folk
• indie folk
• jazz
• jazz-folk
• Lincoln