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Tytuł: The outsider

  • Wykonawca: Ian Hunter
  • Wy¶wietleń: 313

  
   Death be my mistress, guns be my wife
  Breath is my witness and roads are my life
  Just give my future's clean as a knife
  Far on the way from L.A.
  
  The sun heats the saddle, sand in my hair
  Looking for water and there's sweat everywhere
  Know that I'm nearer I smell damp air
  I ain't tasted coffee for days
  
  When the leaves are down I'll be southward bound
  Hunters hunt the outsider.
  When the wind grows cold, when the sun grows old,
  Nothing holds the outsider
  
  Just killed a man in a town called Nightfall
  Damned if I can't remember it all
  My hand it was shaking but his talk it was tall
  I paid for the funeral crew
  And it seems like I never reach Mexico
  They're heading me off every place that I go
  I'm sick of the fact that I've got to lay low
  What else can an outsider do
  
  I know they're near to me, I don't have to see
  Just let me be the outsider
  They ain't far behind, they're always on my mind
  They won't find the outsider
  The outsider
  
  When the leaves are down I'll be southward bound
  Hunter's haunt the outsider.
  When the wind grows cold, when the sun grows old,
  Nothing holds the outsider
  The outsider. The outsider.