As I walked out in the streets of Laredo. As I walked out in Laredo one day. I spied a poor cowboy wrapped up in white linen. All wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay.
Summer come, please, tell me what you've waited for. It's been so cold, I can't take it anymore. It's been years but I've been here before. Waiting for you here, down at the shore.
Walked past my grave in the dark tonight. Saw the stone and the note you left for me. To answer your question. I just had to leave, I just had to leave.
I was headed for a close encounter. She's eternal, spotless on the mind. Sun burnt on a battlefield. Walking on the Mason Dixon line. Soaking in a burned up journal.
words by Calvin Trillin. music and adaptation by Pete Seeger. . When something in my history is found. Which contradicts the views that I propound. Or shows that I perhaps am not the guy I claim to be.
you've seen me, do i look okay to you?. give me your hand. i'll shake it and shake it again. i'll smile until my face falls off my head. if it's good for you, it's good for me too.
words and music by Arlo Guthrie. . This next song we're going to dedicate to a great American. organization. Tonight I'd like to dedicate this to our boys.
You see me, do I look okay to you?. Give me your hand, I'll shake it and shake it again. I'll smile till my face falls off my head. If it's good for you, it's good for me too.
you never seem to hear a single word I say. unless it's miked dropping through some club's PA. even then well my closest of friends. write if off as some lines like they're not even mine.
I don't want a pickle. Just want to ride on my motorcycle. And I don't want a tickle. 'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorcycle. And I don't want to die.
Tidal waves are gonna swallow your town alive. Terrorists are gonna poison all our skies. Bodies are gonna wash up on the beach. Hell is gonna bring your parents to their knees.
I hear voices, people think I'm crazy. they can talk but it doesn't really phase me. late at night when the lights go down. when I close my eyes I hear the sound.
I don't want a pickle. Just want to ride on my motorcycle. And I don't want a tickle. 'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorcycle. And I don't want to die.
You said you'd never leave me. And yet there you go. Hey, this wasn't supposed to happen. And yet there you go. Right through the door, leaving me alone.
Im leaving again for the second time around. You better believe, that this was all just a joke to me. And as I look down on them, I repeat these words in my head.
I struck the trail in seventy-nine. The herd strung out behind me. As I jogged along my mind went back. To the gal I left behind me. . If I ever get off the trail, boys.
Lost my troop, my parachute. Through neighbourhoods in hot pursuit. I landed on little league fields. Now no more war games this is real. Hopping fences, parkign lots.
I used to think that we could drink. From the puddle of pure and simple life. Now I know [Inaudible] pointless fight. . I truly think that we should reposition.
I started looking out for myself today. But then I stopped 'cause I don't care. I'm feeling bored, I'm feeling numb. So now I'll stop 'cause I don't care.
I was hanging from my one last thread of of hope. I was swinging from a lonely little rope. Made from my apathy. Grieve on Zevon, war and peace. I was waiting for my turn to crash and burn.