Poncho and Lefty
Living on the road my friend don’t it make you free and clean
And now you wear your skin like iron. Your breath’s as hard as
kerosene.
You weren’t your momma’s only boy, but her favorite one it seems.
She started to cry when you said goodbye, and slipped into your
dream.
Poncho was a bandit boy. His horse was fast as polished steel.
He wore his gun outside his pants for all the honest world to
feel.
He met his match the story’s told in the deserts down in Mexico
Where no one heard his dying words, but that’s the way it goes.
And all the federalis say they could have had him any day.
Well, they only let him slip away out of kindness I suppose.
Now Lefty, he don’t sing the blues all night long like he used
to do
It seems the dust that Poncho bit down south, ended up in Lefty’s
mouth.
The day they laid old Poncho low, Lefty split for Ohio.
And where he got the bread to go, there ain’t nobody knows.
And all the federalis say they could have had him any day.
Well, they only let him slip away out of kindness I suppose.
The poets tell how Poncho fell, and Lefty’s living in a cheap
hotel.
Now all that glitters isn’t gold or so the story goes I’m told.
Poncho needs your prayers its true, but save a few for Lefty too.
He only did what he had to do. And now he’s growing old.
And all the federalis say they could have had him any day.
Well, they only let him slip away out of kindness I suppose.
A few gray federalis say they could have had him any day.
Well they only let him go so wrong out of kindness I suppose.
