Thunder Blanket from AL LEE by Al Lee

In the first degree I've been charged
Got pulled over at a routine stop
Didn't know, pulled my gun
As she approached, well I fired one

She went down, so I fled
As her bullet grazed my head
Here I go, on the run
I'm a hated, native son

Last bits of freedom, I try to steel
With the hounds of hell nipping at my heels
My heart races as they close the road
My tires explode to the car I stole

Branches whip my face, blood stings my eye
Moonlight making shadows of those I recognize
Here I go, on the run
I'm a hated, native son
I'm a hated, native son

Under the cover of thunder
I won't surrender
Under the cover of thunder
I give myself back to the river

People are in shock they're afraid of me
There's a killer on the loose and that cannot be
But it's been happening here for over fifty years
No white man gives a damn of that highway of tears

Lights overhead, law on my trail
They'll shoot to kill 'fore I go to jail
Here I go, on the run
I'm a hated, native son
I'm a hated, native son
Just like my, grandfather's son
I'm a hated, native son

• Rock
• blues
• blues rock
• bluesy
• folk rock
• rock and roll
• roots
• roots rock
• Revelstoke