Desperados Waiting for a Train

I played the Red River Valley

And he'd sit out in the kitchen and cry

And run his fingers through seventy years of living

And wonder Lord, as ever, will that drill run dry?

We were friends, me and this old man

Like desperados waiting for a train

Like desperados waiting for a train

He's a drifter and a driller of oil wells

And an old-school man of the world

He'd let me drive his car when he's too drunk to

And he'd wink and give me money for the girls

And our lives were like some old western movie

Like desperados waiting for a train

Like desperados waiting for a train

From the time that I could walk, he'd take me with him

To a bar called the Green Frog Cafe

And there were old men with beer-guts and dominoes

Lying about their lives while they played

And I was just a kid they called his sidekick

Like desperados waiting for a train

Like desperados waiting for a train

One day I looked up, and he's pushing eighty

And there's brown tobacco stains all down his chin

To me he's one of the heroes of this country

So why's he all dressed up like them old men?

Drinking beer and playing Moon in 42

Like desperados waiting for a train

Like desperados waiting for a train

The day before he died, I went to see him

I was grown and he was almost gone

So we just closed our eyes and dreamed us up a kitchen

And sang another verse to that old song

Come on Jack, that son-of-a-gun's a-coming

Like desperados waiting for a train

Like desperados waiting for a train

Like desperados waiting for a train

Like desperados waiting for a train