Purple Gas

I've got plates for purple gas

About the only break I catch

But I am not the kind of man

To blame the dealer on a losing hand

Have a lone star in my eye

The darker the sky, the brighter it shines

Pumpjack checks and baler twine

A ton of grit, or maybe it's spite

And if I weren't a flatland boy, I'd say I have a hill

A hill that I will die upon, if the climb don't get me killed

If there were such heights around here for a guy to lay his pride

Maybe I'd rest before I died, if I weren't a flatland boy

I hammer down, hair straight back

World blurs past, tell me how's it that

My horizon line's static?

I guess at least it's a sure bet

Was taught to not throw the first fist

But if you take a hit, finish that son of a bitch

In a life having the upper hand's a myth

Your only fighting chance is too stubborn to quit

And if I weren't a flatland boy, I'd say I have a hill

A hill that I will die upon, if the climb don't get me killed

If there were such heights around here for a guy to lay his pride

Maybe I'd rest before I died, if I weren't a flatland boy

Retired rail ties, 0.9 wire

Neighbour kid on the fencing pliers

Fargo that turns over fine at 40 below if you cuss it right

A sly thumb of Rye sometimes

Keep a bottle hid with the Bio-Mycin

You can dull the edge, you can look ahead

But can't get there, it goes on forever

Oh, it just goes on forever

You keep your head down, it goes on forever

But I've got plates for purple gas

I've got plates for purple gas