| I work as a hand in San Saba
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| Fences and windmills to mend
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| I been out on a crew, eating tumbleweed stew
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| Three weeks in the rain and the wind
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| I got mud on my boots and blood on my money
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| And I’m looking to head into town
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| But as soon as my truck rounds the corner
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| That old deputy is staring me down
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| Where can a good man go crazy?
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| Where can a cowboy get stoned?
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| If I get a wild hair, and go off on a tear
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| I’m liable to end up alone
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| Nobody wants to run with me now
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| But I’m restless down to the bone
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| Where can a good man go crazy?
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| Where can a cowboy get stoned?
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| Old man, are you listening?
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| 'Cause I’m down here, asking you
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| I know you made me this way
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| So what do you expect me to do?
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| I drove out of town with my paycheck
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| Bad snake blood running through my veins
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| Hooked up with a truckload of illegals
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| And a pocket full of cocaine
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| We had us some fun, now I’m on the run
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| And I won’t be coming back soon
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| Just me and some rangy coyotes
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| Howlin' up at the cold desert moon
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| Where can a good man go crazy?
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| Where can a cowboy get stoned?
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| Nobody wants me hanging around
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| I guess I’ll have to go it alone
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| I’ll have to head down to the border I guess
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| And I don’t know when I’ll be back home
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| Where can a good man go crazy?
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| Where can a cowboy get stoned?
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| And if I don’t ever make it back
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| You can carve this right on my tombstone
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| Where can a good man go crazy?
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| Where can a cowboy get stoned? |