By Guy Clark
And I'd sing the red river valley
And he'd sit in the kitchen and cry
Run his fingers through seventy years of living'
Wondering, lord, has every well I drilled ran dry
We were friends, me and that old man
Like desperados waiting for the train
Like desperados waiting for the train
He's A drifter and A driller of oil wells
And an old school man of the world
Taught me how to drive his car when he's too drunk to
And he'd wink and give me money for the girls
And our lives was like some old western movie
Like desperados waiting for the train
Like desperados waiting for the train
From the time that I could walk he'd take me with him
To A place called the green frog cafe
And there was old men with beer guts and dominoes
Lying' about their lives while they played
Like desperados waiting for the train
Like desperados waiting for the train
And I looked up and he was pushing eighty
And there was brown tobacco stains all down his chin
To me he's one of the heroes of this country
See why's he all dressed up like some old man
Drinking' beer and playing' moon in forty-Two
Like desperados waiting for the train
Like desperados waiting for the train
The day before he dies I went to see him
I was grown and he was almost gone
We just closed our eyes and dreamt us up A kitchen
And sang another verse to that old song
"DON'T CRY, JACK, IT'S ONLY JESUS COMING"
Like desperados waiting for the train
Like desperados waiting for the train
Like desperados waiting for the train