|
I can sleep it off, |
|
Sleep it back to sleep, |
|
I can be most anything |
|
I want. A long way from the shade, |
|
The north side of the moon. |
|
Down here only rich men lose their shirts. |
|
And John Law wakes to sweep, |
|
The morning off the street, |
|
But no one cares if he has done his job. |
|
And postcards never came, |
|
From race tracks by the sea. |
|
From a gambler who says: "You are still my lucky thing." |
|
Bordertown, |
|
There's been an accident in |
|
Bordertown. |
|
Bordertown, |
|
I am your accident in |
|
Bordertown. |
|
Coyotes stirs the drinks, |
|
And drives his stolen jeep, |
|
And drives the kingsnake to its happy hole. |
|
But I stand in the clear, |
|
The only place he fears, |
|
The only place he's never seen me stand. |
|
Bordertown, |
|
There's been an accident in |
|
Bordertown. |
|
Bordertown, |
|
I am your accident in |
|
Bordertown. |
|
There ain't no seasons here, |
|
But the freezin' still appears, |
|
Everytime |
|
I call this home. |
|
Can't be enough alone. |
|
I can sleep it off, |
|
Sleep it back to sleep, |
|
I can be most anything |
|
I want. A long way from the shade, |
|
The north side of the moon. |
|
Down here only taxi drivers know my name. |
