When the morning turns coldnWhen the morning turns coldnThe question marks that dot my eyesnMeasure the breech from the warmth of the nightnnWhen the morning turns coldnI'll keep a lienI'll keep a lie and a promise to younWhen I keep a lie it becomes the truthnnI can keep a liennWhen a promise is keptnWhen a promise is kept it maturesnWhen a promise is kept it matures,nA moment it's redeemed enduresnnAnd the lie flourishes, flourishesn[incoherent squawking]nnTuck your cuffs into your bootsnTuck your cuffs into your boots, a sharp look.nnA sharp lookin' wrangler and I'm wearing your noosenAnd I'm wearing your noosennYou sharpen your spursnYou sharpen your spurs on my heart of stonenObliteration overloadnnWhen the morning turns coldnYou tuck your cuffs into your bootsn[squawking]