You take off from work a bit early
The boss doesn't
Hot coffee on the dashboard a cold front on the
Scarecrow and a yellow moon
and a roadhouse on the edge
I drove all night to be here
I only stopped
Up this morning
Before the sun
Fixed me some coffee and a
The north wind blows a prairie fire across the open
Have you got a minute?
A little time that we can
Deep in the pocket, of an old sport coat jacket
I
It's a long stretch of highway, at midnight in New
The man outside he works for me, his name is
When the sun goes down on the wild frontier
the stars
The streets are almost empty, the shops are all closed
Summer Sunday evening, around the old home place
Well, I would
Me and the boy's we cinched up our saddles and
Time for the singer
Time for the singer-boy to make
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