ballad of a lonesome drifter - charley crockett lyrics
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he doesn’t say too much, and his throat is dry
what he wants is a bottle of rye
born just to play a bad luck hand
this here’s the tale af a texican
as the night rolls in and the sun goes down
he’ll find himself in a different town
all the good*time women, prophets, drunks, and thieves
will sound find out what the texican means
meixan boots and a stetson hat
gun is slung low with the trigger tied back
these are the marks of a fat man
the kind they call the texican
jingle and spurs on a hardwood floor
a poker game just madе for four
but if you sit in for a card or two
you’ll wind up dead before you’rе through
border wind
border wind
where do you go?
cover my trail tonight
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