Well, I never been to Spain
But I kinda like the music
Say the ladies are insane there
And they sure know how to use it
They don't abuse it, never gonna lose it
I can't refuse it.
I believe in Jesus
An' what the Bible said
An' I am fairly certain
He had himself a heavy head.
He scared the lyin' people
So bad, they hung him dead
An' they never even listened
To what he really said.
I'm a high night flier and a rainbow rider
And a straight-shooting son of a gun.
And we could have been sweethearts, forever and ever,
Could have loved a whole lot more, been a little more true.
Well you could have been lonely every night now,
Could have cried a whole lot more, been a little bit blue
Oh, you could have been lonely, for your one and only,
You could have loved me as much as I love you.
And I dream in the morning that she brings me water
And I dream in the evening that she brings me wine
Just a poor man's daughter from Puerta Piasco
South of the border, in old Mexico.
And when I first saw you I first loved you
With a song that I sang to the fire in your eyes
But somebody told you that it wouldn't be easy
And you carried that lie for the devil to sing
Some sail rivers deep and muddy some sail rivers clear and cold
But the river that I'm sailin' goes to sea
And sometimes I do grow weary sometimes I feel old
And sometimes I wonder if you think of me.
The dealer for a nickel
Lord, will sell you lots of sweet dreams
Ah, but the pusher ruin your body
Lord, he'll leave your, he'll leave your mind to scream.
God damn, The Pusher
God damn, I say The Pusher
I said God damn, God damn The Pusher man.
You know, I've seen a lot of people walkin' 'round
With tombstones in their eyes
But the pusher don't care
Ah, if you live or if you die.
You know I've smoked a lot of grass
O' Lord, I've popped a lot of pills
But I never touched nothin'
That my spirit could kill.
I've rode o'er hot, dry deserts
And over mountains tall
I believed in the bad land sayin'
"A good gun never falls"
Strongest of Oak is the gallows
Tighest of knots is the noose
Why oh why did I kill that man
Now I'll never get loose
When I was a little baby, my mama she said "Son.
Travel where you will and grow to be a man
And sing what must be sung, poor boy
Sing what must be sung."
And I don't give a damn about a greenback dollar
Spend it fast as I can for a wailin' song and a good guitar
The only things that I understand, oh yeah.
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