A soul lost in the desert, a deal struck in hell. This haunting country ballad tells the story of the Ghost Rider — a cursed figure who rides the undead trail, leaving only dust, fire, and silence in his wake.
Dust on the wind and a bone in his hand, He rides through the silence of a cursed wasteland. His eyes burn red like the devil’s own flame, They whisper his legend but none know his name.
Ravens circle where the gallows once stood, He don’t bleed no more, but he remembers blood. Boots drag trails through the ash and shale, He’s the ghost rider on the undead trail.
He was born in fire, baptized in pain, Left his soul behind in the desert rain. Now he’s chasin’ sin through the heat and hail, A shadow in spurs on the undead trail.
He met the devil ‘neath a black mesquite, Traded his heart for vengeance and heat. Now every step rings like a coffin nail, Every mile he rides leaves a ghostly wail.
Fiddle cries like a widow’s moan, He’s got bones in his bag and he rides alone. Lightning strikes but he don’t flinch, Death gave him freedom, inch by inch.
He was born in fire, baptized in pain, Left his soul behind in the desert rain. Now he’s chasin’ sin through the heat and hail, A shadow in spurs on the undead trail.
So if you hear hoofbeats in the black night’s gale, Don’t follow the sound… It’s the undead trail.
About the Song:
🎵 Lyric: Borna Cuk 🎶 Music & Voice: AI
Support & Collaboration:
If you enjoy this project, consider sharing the playlist or subscribing to the YouTube channel.
For collaborations or licensing, contact via the blog or channel page.
This post is part of the "Graveyard Ballads: Dark Tales of the Wild West" series, exploring tragic, haunted, and violent stories from America's past through music.
🎧 Listen to the full playlist here: Graveyard Ballads: Dark Tales of the Wild West
Lyrics:
Dust on the wind and a bone in his hand, He rides through the silence of a cursed wasteland. His eyes burn red like the devil’s own flame, They whisper his legend but none know his name.
Ravens circle where the gallows once stood, He don’t bleed no more, but he remembers blood. Boots drag trails through the ash and shale, He’s the ghost rider on the undead trail.
He was born in fire, baptized in pain, Left his soul behind in the desert rain. Now he’s chasin’ sin through the heat and hail, A shadow in spurs on the undead trail.
He met the devil ‘neath a black mesquite, Traded his heart for vengeance and heat. Now every step rings like a coffin nail, Every mile he rides leaves a ghostly wail.
Fiddle cries like a widow’s moan, He’s got bones in his bag and he rides alone. Lightning strikes but he don’t flinch, Death gave him freedom, inch by inch.
He was born in fire, baptized in pain, Left his soul behind in the desert rain. Now he’s chasin’ sin through the heat and hail, A shadow in spurs on the undead trail.
So if you hear hoofbeats in the black night’s gale, Don’t follow the sound… It’s the undead trail.
About the Song:
🎵 Lyric: Borna Cuk 🎶 Music & Voice: AI
Support & Collaboration:
If you enjoy this project, consider sharing the playlist or subscribing to the YouTube channel.
For collaborations or licensing, contact via the blog or channel page.
This post is part of the "Graveyard Ballads: Dark Tales of the Wild West" series, exploring tragic, haunted, and violent stories from America's past through music.
🎧 Listen to the full playlist here: Graveyard Ballads: Dark Tales of the Wild West
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