I say "God, if you ain't smiling on me, then you ain't no friend of mine." It's late at night and this motel room's
drunk, I been listening to the lonesome wind crying. My best friend once said, "Jim, what you cling to, that's the thing
that you had best forget. For ain't no rose bed ever gonna bloom in an untended field of regrets." Guess I been busy
killing time counting bullet holes in state line signs. I led a life of lonely drifting trying to rise above the buzzards
in my mind. You get dizzy chasing 'round the tail of what you need to leave behind. Oh sweet Jesus, won't you help me?
'Cause all I'm trying to do is plant them seeds of love with that girl from Brownsville, Texas. Midnight radio, a crackly
white gospel station kicking out the sounds of some half-assed revival. Me, I never much cared for the feelings you get
quoting scriptures from out of the Bible. For as the crow flies I know only one cure for a permanent tear in your eye. You
gotta crank like hell that rope on old sorrow's well 'til the day that the bucket comes up dry.
