Townes’ Blues

Lyrics
You're clean as A widow woman's washboard, son Stick it in the wind Put the mountains to your back The great plains on your grille Time to take a little spin Boulder looks like the type of town That I could spend some time But in Houston they got our name in lights You're clean as A widow woman's washboard, son The slab is yours tonight Townes is in the back lounge With his hands in his pocket Pulls out two die and says let's get at it Salina in the headlights, snake eyes on the floor Al drops another twenty, Pete heads for the door Springer's feeling lucky, sits down for a spell Oklahoma City and he's lost his last bill Jeff is in a bind waiting on sister hicks Seven comes a-calling as we cross on into Texas Townes is in the back lounge With a fist full of fives He says, it's a little bit long But I'm enjoying this ride Be careful with the die When you're surrounded by others With boxcars in their eyes Never count your winnings at hour 23 Of a 24-hour drive Remember that you're not the one calling the tune That's making those diamonds dance Or you'll be clean as A widow woman's washboard, son And those are the facts Townes is in the back lounge Cursing at them bones He says, ain't this fool ever heard of Raton
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Credits
- Writers
- Michael Timmins