In the Black Hills It's so familiar now Familiar like NPR in the afternoons It's never too much, 'cause you still may never know The salt on the sidewalks Or wether my feet will find me in quicksand erosion, or concrete These are the questions that rush through my brain On another, but different, sunny day In the Black Hills I will meet your mother today I won't be so sure what to do with my hands And I'm never quite so sure where I come from Or what my daddy does When whiskey isn't speaking from your sweet lips We still believe in me These are the questions that rush through my brain On another, but different, sunny day In them Black Hills I'm so scared of my hands I'm so scared of those voices on the afternoon radio And I'm so scared of what my hands are gonna do I'm so scared to leave Black Hills