1. Texas

We heard him sing the other night, best we ever saw
God, he’s so damned honest, as brutal as he’s warm
You just can’t help but love him and somehow fear the worst
There are those that do the living for us, blessed as well as cursed
I’m going to Texas, gonna learn to tell the truth
Just like those Texas songwriters and the simple words they use
I’ll bring along a sweet guitar made of spruce and cherry wood
I want to see my friend just one more time before we’re gone for good
I would sit in the black and white movies, watch those quiet Main Street towns
Boring, hot and lonely, heat lightning on the ground
I was just a hungry kid with Buddy Holly and the blues
And I could hear this guitar in my head, restless through and through
He flat-lined and they cracked his chest just about a year back
He said bring it on boys is that the best you got?
His songs mean more than money; they’re consecrated blood
There are those that do the living for us, blessed before the flood
I’m going to Texas to learn to tell the truth
Just like those Texas songwriters and the simple words they use
I’ll bring along a sweet guitar made of spruce and cherry wood
I want to see my friend just one more time before we’re gone for good
I want to see my friend just one more time . . .
Hat reversed and pulled flat back, Georgia drawl and a Houston sweat
Cut-off sleeves, a voice so deep
Seen every face on a dead-end street