| I’m looking at a funeral wagon rolling down
|
| A two-lane highway winding past a desert town
|
| A big blue canvas painted by the Master’s hand
|
| The shifting clouds above and endless miles of sand
|
| In that mirror maybe that’s what’s left of me
|
| Wheezing like a freight train hauling sixty tons of steel
|
| Air them out’s the best release and get some rest
|
| Carrie don’t wait up for me the brakeman’s going West
|
| In this room all alone
|
| I dream of you
|
| In this drawer I found someone
|
| I never knew
|
| Now I pop a top and stay up late with Gideon
|
| And fall asleep to visions of Meridian
|
| I’ve seen dusty beaten delta boys cutting heads
|
| A black face carney showman scare a song to death
|
| In my short life I’ve seen as much as most men need
|
| Now I’m just looking for some cleaner air to breathe
|
| Now I pop a top and stay up late with Gideon
|
| And fall asleep to visions of Meridian
|
| Far away, far away
|
| So many years, so many days
|
| All along this broken land
|
| I’ve seen a lover’s empty arms
|
| And hunger’s empty hand |