| All alone in a Mexican joint
|
| In Mesa, Arizona
|
| With a mariachi band
|
| On the jukebox
|
| And an empty Corona
|
| And the sun gone down
|
| In the pale thin pink
|
| There’s no one to talk to
|
| All I can think
|
| Is your eyes are full of train smoke
|
| And your mouth tastes like rain
|
| And I know when I know nothing
|
| I will always know your name
|
| You’re my one and only one
|
| You’re my only one
|
| Out here working
|
| In the neon lights
|
| Where the temperature is falling
|
| It’s hotel coffee
|
| Red-eye flights and Honey
|
| I’m your midnight ringer calling
|
| And the snow comes down
|
| From this desert sky
|
| And I tell everybody something
|
| But it’s usually good-bye
|
| But not you you’re my one
|
| You’re my only one
|
| Only one I want to talk to
|
| Only one I know to call
|
| Only one who’s going to catch me
|
| When my pride leads to a fall
|
| You’re the sky all full of starlings
|
| And an ax blade shining in the sun
|
| You’re the angel touched a coal
|
| Against my lips
|
| You’re my only one
|
| Reel to reel
|
| The country rolls
|
| And the towns slide by
|
| Like ghost repeaters
|
| Of faded billboards & big-box stores
|
| Like a movie of an empty theater
|
| You look around and wonder
|
| When the seams are going to fail
|
| And how dear the cost of living
|
| Where everything’s for sale
|
| Except you you’re my one
|
| You’re my only one
|
| And I’m all alone
|
| In a Mexican joint
|
| In Mesa, Arizona |