verse 1:
A thousand places that he'd been to in his dreams
a hundred years have come and gone.
deep in the quarter, Tuesday in New Orleans
he's drinkin' and he's singin' dirty songs.
verse 2:
A thousand ways he tried to break out of the mold
a hundred habits, a hopeless fight.
Cocaine and porter, lids of Acapulco Gold,
singin' a swan song to the night.
verse 3:
A thousand bars along the road to Baton Rouge
a hundred miles to Mobile, Alabam'.
Back in the saddle, and he's gettin' in the mood
counting the minutes to the end.
verse 4:
A thousand faces in the gallery tonight
a hundred voices in the crowd.
Daydreams of Mardi Gras and memories of lights
sounding off, pretending to be proud.
bridge:
Shotgun shells and whiskey and moonlight.
Final wishes offered up to midnight.
Things that come too fast never last...
They always look better in the twilight. |