Billie Sol was a man from the giant Texas land. He put the Chamber of Commerce on a limb. They voted him the best and the government did no less. Until the I.O.U.'s of Texas fell on him.
This is the ballad of Alferd Packer. An infamous guy to the old west. . In the state of Colorado in the year of seventy-four. They crossed the San Juan Mountains growing hungry to the core.
Oh, you tell me that your last good dollar is gone. And you say that your pockets are bare. And you tell me that your clothes are tattered and torn. And nobody seems to care.
If you say all the good times are gone. If you say this rain will keep rainin' on. I'll walk along with my head held high. I'll find a song and I'll sing it to the sky.
Oh, the bullets of the false revenge have struck us once again. As the angry seas have struck upon the sand. And it seemed as though a friendless world had lost itself a friend.
It was a used car dealer's election. And the choice was rather small. The boys agreed, "It's the war we need. So there's no president at all". . Here's to Nixon and Agnew.
Who's that coming down the road. A sailor from the sea. He looks a lot like me. I'd know him anywhere, had to stare. . Feathers at his fingertips. A halo 'round his spine.
Sailing over to Vietnam. Southeast Asian Birmingham. Well training is the word we use. Nice word to have in case we lose. Training a million Vietnamese.
Well, once I heard some people say, "If you gotta travel. There's just one way, you gotta leave the ground, gotta go. Through the air, gotta find a pilot and pay your fare.
It was just a little while ago, I glued my ears to the radio. The announcer was sayin' we'd better beware. A crisis was hanging, a wave up in the air.
Walkin' down to Birmingham. Way down south in Dixie Land. Oh, I thought that I would stop awhile. Take a vacation southern style. . Got some southern hospitality.
Walkin' down to denver town. I watched the western sun go down.. Thought that I would stop a while,. Switch around my tv dial.. Got some free tee vee . . . only price was a little boredom..
The young night was thirsty as I entered the back of the bar. The smoke held the air, as the floating tables were scarred,. In back of the counter the man asked "what can I do? ".
Sometimes I, could leave it all behind.. Step off and find a place, to make a brand new life.. And when we talk, I wonder who'll break first.. We'll take it all apart, and twist each others words..
Take me, take me. Out into the night. Show me, show me. Wonders and delights. . Faces 'round a fire. Lights across the sky. The witching hour. They're calling me now.
Wait a minute, it's all gone south. Words don't matter, I'm all talked out. I want to show You another way. I want to shield you from my mistakes. . Ooh, they're the ties that bind us.
Thirty Buddha's on a walnut,. Tiny limbs inside the eye,. Tiny mind inside the tiny brain,. To see the overwhelming sky.. . Thirty birds upon a phone line,.
Well the leaves have gone away. And the cold is here to stay. And the wind picks up and calls my name. . And the gulls they cough and die. And the buses drive on by.
How can I possibly tell it. How can I say it all. I've built this story up for so long. I have so far to fall. How can a liar tell the truth. A voice inside me shouts.
I want a voice. I want a deep, resonant, effortless voice. A big voice - bigger than me. I want to speak and hear the floorboards take it up. so that people hear me first with their bodies,.