| Needing sleep and hot and dirty on I drove through Alberquerque
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| I had one eye on the mirror for the law
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| When I pulled in for some gasoline, six house from El Paso
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| Seemed New Mexico went on for evermore
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| I was talkin' to the pump man, and you should have seen him jump, man
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| When I told him I was heading for the Heights
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| He said, «Wait on 'til tomorrow 'cos a few miles from Socorro
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| Is a place you’ll never leave by light of night»
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| There’s only buzzards and lizards and ornerary critturs
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| You’ve run out of luck if you get stuck in Trombone Gulch
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| Well I laughed and left him standing, put a big tip in his hand
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| And drove on out ignoring all his shouts of thanks
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| But a few miles from Socorro I discovered to my horror
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| That his shouts had meant he hadn’t filled the tank
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| I knew I wasn’t beaten yet, I stumbled from the sedan
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| Cursing everyone from Satan up to God
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| And I pushed it to ledge and pushed it out across the edge
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| And knew the law would never see it from the road
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| And the dust came like a blizzard, I got bitten by a lizard
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| And I fell down into canyons all the time
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| But I kept the road beside me, 'cos I had to have it guide me
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| All the way to safety and the borderline
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| When the sun came up from sleepin' and the morning came in creeping
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| I could see a signpost just on up ahead
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| It said «Welcome to Socorro! |
| Did you like to ride our trombone?
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| It goes right around the valley on a bend! |