Coyote Lyrics - Hejira - Joni Mitchell

No regrets coyote 

we just come from such different sets of circumstance 

i'm up all night in the studios 

and you're up early on your ranch 

you'll be brushing out a brood mare's tail 

while the sun is ascending 

and i'll just be getting home with my reel to reel... 

there's no comprehending 

just how close to the bone and the skin and the eyes 

and the lips you can get 

and still feel so alone 

and still feel related 

like stations in some relay 

you're not a hit and run driver, no, no 

racing away 

you just picked up a hitcher 

a prisoner of the white lines on the freeway 

We saw a farmhouse burning down 

in the middle of nowhere 

in the middle of the night 

and we rolled right past that tragedy 

till we turned into some road house lights 

where a local band was playing 

locals were up kicking and shaking on the floor 

and the next thing i know 

that coyote's at my door 

he pins me in a corner and he won't take "no!" 

he drags me out on the dance floor 

and we're dancing close and slow 

now he's got a woman at home 

he's got another woman down the hall 

he seems to want me anyway 

why'd you have to get so drunk 

and lead me on that way 

you just picked up a hitcher 

a prisoner of the white lines of the freeway 

I looked a coyote right in the face 

on the road to baljennie near my old home town 

he went running thru the whisker wheat 

chasing some prize down 

and a hawk was playing with him 

coyote was jumping straight up and making passes 

he had those same eyes - just like yours 

under your dark glasses 

privately probing the public rooms 

and peeking thru keyholes in numbered doors 

where the players lick their wounds 

and take their temporary lovers 

and their pills and powders to get them thru this passion play 

No regrets, coyote 

i just get off up aways 

you just picked up a hitcher 

a prisoner of the white lines on the freeway 

Coyote's in the coffee shop 

he's staring a hole in his scrambled eggs 

he picks up my scent on his fingers 

while he's watching the waitresses' legs 

he's too fat from the bay of fundy 

from appaloosas and eagles and tides 

and the air conditioned cubicles 

and the carbon ribbon rides 

are spelling it out so clear 

either he's going to have to stand and fight 

or take off out of here 

i tried to run away myself 

to run away and wrestle with my ego 

and with this flame 

you put here in this eskimo 

in this hitcher 

in this prisoner 

of the fine white lines 

of the white lines on the free, free way 

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