|
I guess we knew the cards were stacked |
|
Started out the best of friends |
|
And we beat that highway 'til it quit beating back |
|
It didn't mean much in the end |
|
Some you win, some you lose, some you throw away |
|
We headed South across those Colorado plains |
|
Just as empty as the day |
|
We looked around at all we saw and all we'd hoped to see |
|
Looking out through the bugs on the windshield |
|
Somebody said to me |
|
No more buffalo, blue skies or open road |
|
No more rodeo, no more noise |
|
Take this Cadillac park it out in back |
|
Mama's calling, put away the toys |
|
Don't chase that carrot 'til it makes you sick |
|
What do you think you're gonna prove |
|
Just let it dangle 'til it falls off that stick |
|
That's when you make your move |
|
Don't go chasing after shooting stars |
|
Trying to make yourself a name |
|
You could joust at windmills with that old Fender guitar |
|
Probably do about the same |
|
No more buffalo, blue skies or open road |
|
No more rodeo for this old boy |
|
Take my Cadillac park it out in back |
|
Mama's calling, put away the toys |
|
I never thought they'd ever doubt my words |
|
I guess they were just too tired to care |
|
I'd point to the horizon, to the dust of the herds |
|
Still hovering in the air |
|
Somebody said it ain't any such |
|
Man you wish so hard you're scaring me |
|
'Cause those are combines kicking up that dust |
|
But you can see what you want to see |
|
And go on chasing after what used to be there |
|
Top that rise and face the pain |
|
But man they were here, they were here I swear |
|
Not just these bleaching bones, stretching across the plain |
|
No more buffalo, blue skies or open road |
|
No more rodeo for this old boy |
|
Take my Cadillac park it out in back |
|
Mama's calling, put away the toys |
|
No more buffalo, blue skies or open road |
|
No more rock and roll 'cause we all know that |
|
Take my Cadillac park it out in back |
|
Mama's calling, put away the toys |