[Chorus]
On the Goddnight trail, on
the loving trail
Our old womans lonesome tonight.
Your French harp blows like
a lone bawling calf.
Its a wonder the wind don't
tear off your skin,
Get in there and blow out
the light.
With your snake oil and herbs
and your liniment, too
You can do anything that a
doctor can do.
Except find cure for your
own god damned stew.
[Repeat Chorus]
The cook fires out, and the
coffee's all gone,
The boys are up and we're
raising the dawn.
You're still, sitting there
all lost in a song.
(Repeat Chorus)
I know someday that I' II be
just the same.
Wearing an apron, instead
of a name.
But no one can change it and
no ones to blame.
(Repeat Chorus)
Cause the deserts a book wrote
in lizards and sage,
It's easy to look like an
old torn out page,
All faded and cracked with
the colors of age.
(Repeat Chorus)
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |