I see San Antonio burning   Through the barred station window   I see angels on boats beating trumpets of gold   In the sky above the old rodeo      As I roll off my prison matress   And I drink from the station house ink   I can see that blotter in the water   With my name bleeding newspaper ink      She was long white legs and diamonds   I was a Long Island liar in black   I should have known as we walked through the World's Fair   That she died with a knife in the back      Doc, O doc, I need my morphine   As the guard drags his keys across the bars   I can see Mr. Pain beyond the window frame   In empty golden hills beyond the stars      I see San Antonio burning   Through the barred station window   I see angels on boats beating trumpets of gold   In the sky above the old rodeo