| And as I get long gone
|
| Out where the wind blows
|
| The desert sky, she flies by for miles
|
| And as I keep walkin'
|
| People keep a-talkin'
|
| About things they’ve never seen or done
|
| Homeless sleep in the park
|
| Sweet hearts kiss in the dark
|
| I myself just move on through town
|
| Moon keeps on shinin'
|
| And the rich keep on dinin'
|
| And, oh, how I love the highway sun
|
| And out to the back
|
| The poet writes his songs in blood
|
| Where the coyotes are callin'
|
| Stars keep on fallin'
|
| Your mother, she won’t be around
|
| A feather blows down the road
|
| And the wind is cold, your wings are broke
|
| And your heart is livin' on the run
|
| Lonely and wasted
|
| Her eyes replaced it
|
| And I don’t think I’ll make another mile
|
| Town to town I run
|
| My horse ain’t too drunk
|
| The wind is singin' to the sun
|
| And out to the back
|
| The poet writes his songs in blood
|
| But the jukebox is barkin'
|
| I’m just gettin' started
|
| I’ve yet to see the light of day
|
| Senoritas lose it
|
| To the Mariachi music
|
| 'Cause New York is too far away
|
| And the band keeps on playin'
|
| With beer bottles breakin'
|
| And the barmaid, I heard she pulled the gun
|
| Poet takes a pistol
|
| Points it at this sister
|
| Says, «Honey, your day is done»
|
| And out to the back
|
| The poet writes his song in blood
|
| Out to the back
|
| The poet writes his song in blood |