He made his way
Way
Out west,
Where the land was open, blue, and
Free.

There's nothing here
That reminds him of
There.

What he missed of home
He could not
Say.

We are all just
Minstrel boats awaiting
A sandy shore;
Fearful and half-unwanted.

I've got a blue eyed girl
On my mind and my eye.
She plays with the summer rain
An' keeps me in due refrain.
She left a hole in my heart and
Hole in my brain.
I've never felt more perturbed
When she left me sitting there
Torn up, half-dead, on the the curb.

Last train
Rolling around the curve
Life's nothing
But dealing
With the verve
Whisper me a riddle
Tell me a tale
You be the book baby
I'll be the sale.