| In the easy chair with my boots on
|
| Melted whiskey in my hand
|
| I couldn’t have been asleep for more than three hours
|
| Time to go to work again
|
| Once more I beat the sunrise
|
| And there’s a dark breeze at my door
|
| Raise the water from the well up to my face
|
| How could a man like me be poor?
|
| As long as there’s water
|
| Chilly wet water
|
| Gimme some of that cool water
|
| Well, my horse’s eyes are glassy
|
| He breathed the city in his lungs last night
|
| I lead his natural body
|
| To the trough to regain his might
|
| Red rooster crow them blues here
|
| That Old Blue he round the bull
|
| And the mornin’s crying rays of sunrise
|
| It hasn’t rained for three weeks full
|
| As long as there’s water
|
| Chilly well water
|
| Gimme some of that cool, cool water
|
| Venus light is rising
|
| I lay my buckets inside the shed
|
| And there’s a man I see — a stranger
|
| Leaning on the gate outside my fence
|
| Said «I'm riding out from the city
|
| Where they started holding water back last night
|
| I was hoping I could get a drink from your well
|
| Before I ride on to another city tonight»
|
| Before I ride on to another city tonight
|
| Before I ride on to another city tonight
|
| Chilly well, chilly well water
|
| Cool well, chilly well water
|
| Before I ride on |