Текст песни
I'd play the Red River Valley
And he'd sit out in the kitchen and cry
And run his fingers through 70 years of livin'
And wonder, "Lord, as ever, will that drill run dry?"
We were friends, me and this old man
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
He's a drifter and a driller of oil wells
And an old-school man of the world
He'd let me drive his car when he's too drunk to
And he'd wink, and give me money for the girls
And our lives were like some old western movie
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
From the time that I could walk, he'd take me with him
To a bar called the Green Frog Café
And there were old men with beer-guts and dominoes
Lying 'bout their lives while they play
And I was just a kid, they called his sidekick
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
One day I looked up, and he's pushing 80
And there's brown tobacco stains all down his chin
To me, he's one of the heroes of this country
So why is he all dressed up like them old men?
Drinkin' beer and playing Moon in 42
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
The day before he died, I went to see him
I was grown, and he was almost gone
So we just closed our eyes and dreamed of supper kitchens
And sang another verse to that old song
Come on, Jack, that son-of-a-gun's a comin'
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train