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Desperados Waiting For A Train

I'd play the Red River Valley

And he'd sit out in the kitchen and cry

And run his fingers through seventy years of livin'

And wonder, "Lord, has ever' well I've drilled run dry?"We were friends, me and this old man

Like desperados waitin' for a train

Like desperados waitin' for a trainHe's a drifter and a driller of oil wells

And an old school man of the world

He let me drive his car

When he's too drunk toAnd he'd wink and give me money for the girls

And our lives were like some old western movie

Like desperados waitin' for a train

Like desperados waitin' for a trainFrom the time that I could walk he'd take me with him

To a bar called the Green Frog Cafe

There were old men with beer guts and dominos

Lying 'bout their lives while they'd playedAnd I was just a kid

They all called his "Sidekick"

Like desperados waitin' for a train

Like desperados waitin' for a trainOne day I looked up and he's pushin' 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 menDrinkin' beer and playin' Moon and Forty-two

Like desperados waitin' for a train

Like desperados waitin' for a trainA 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 guns are comin' "Like desperados waitin' for a train

Like desperados waitin' for a train

Like desperados waitin' for a train

Like desperados waitin' for a train

Songwriters

CLARK, GUYPublished by

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