Beyond the cost of diesel fuel. And the tearing down of my old high school. I still think about her. The nation's rising deficit. My fatal crave for cigarettes.
She left Arizona, like her father had before. She took a bus 'cause she hated planes. She prayed the trip would ease her pain. And lead to open doors.
It's Tuesday night, it's twenty to eight. I'm picking up my baby and I'm already late. There's a blond hair beauty in the liquor store line. She asked me to share her bottle of wine.
My name aint up in lights. But Im a hero in this bar. And I play four big shows a night. With just me and my guitar. . I dont make a lot of money. And I dont have a lot of gear.