Something is crying in a cradle   Through an open window   The changing the channels   Back behind the building, the brook babbles.   The shutters rattle   Women light candles   I probably shouldn't be here      A writer gets paid to put down in ink   Pretend he believes all the thoughts that he thinks   While the sweat from his brow washes into the sink   And down, into the valley of tears.      Storms, lights on the road.   Yeah, you're traveling fast, so you travel alone.   Storms, lights on the road.   Go with the grace of God   Bring everything that you own      What happened to the face in my wallet?   When I went traveling, why didn't it follow?   And now the cheeks are hollow   I turn on the pillow.   The maid looks at me and says, "Señor,   The ending is near."      The notebooks are filled with figures and signs   To ease up the day, to soften the time   They spill out like wine, and on down the line   Into the valley of tears.      Storms, lights on the road.   Yeah, you're traveling fast, so you travel alone.   Storms, lights on the road.   Go with the grace of God   Bring everything that you own.      Now the valley is covered in shadows   All the thoughts I used to think mattered   Like soldiers scattered on a field after battle   I'm standing here; I'm waiting for the mist to clear.   I'll empty my pockets, quill tips and books   Sit on the bridge with my feet in the brook   Look out past the edge, one long look   Into the valley of tears      Storms, lights on the road.   Yeah, you're traveling fast, so you travel alone.   Storms, lights on the road.   Go with the grace of God   Bring everything that you own.   Storms.   Through rain, storms.   Its a night shadows, clouds scatter   Through the heat, and the rain, oh.   Storms, storms, oh, oh.