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Bakersfield

What do you want? Where do you find it?

You can call it what you will

The sound of heartbreak from a jail cell

Finding work in bar all nights

Jukebox letters and numbers

The burning hearts and starving minds

Souls in pain as if I'm punishment

The ways and needs to surviveThere's a passion that's put on the line

Money to burn and fortunes to find

Without a claim, without a stake

I'm living only for todayThere will be starts, there will be stumbles

Our tongue out on the line to dry

And a piece from wagers of working

And hell breaks loose on Saturday night

Aren't you happy? The least it's living

Freedom to choose to stay down

Always a wild wind blowing

Just want a guitar and a radioIn the fields of the valley

The sweet and toil along with the land

No cup of gold, no candy mountain

What better place to make a stand?

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