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I'd play the Red River Valley
And he'd sit in the kitchen and cry
And run his fingers through 70 years of livin'
And wonder, "Lord, has ever, well, I've drilled gone dry?"
We was friends, me and this old man
We was like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
Well, he's a drifter and a driller of oil wells
And an old-school man of the world
He taught me how to drive his car
When he's too drunk to
And he'd wink and give me money for the girls
And our lives was like some old western movie
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
From the time that I could walk, he'd take me with him
To a bar called the Green Frog Cafe
And there was old men with beer guts and dominoes
Lying 'bout their lives while they played
And I was just a kid that they all called his sidekick
We was like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
One day I looked up and he's pushin' 80
And there's brown tobacco stains all down his chin
Well, to me he's one of the heroes of this country
So why's he all dressed up like them old men?
Drinkin' beer and playin' Moon and 42
Just like a desperado waiting for a train
Like a desperado waiting for a train
And then the day before he died, I went to see him
I was grown and he was almost gone
So we just closed our eyes and dreamed us up a kitchen
And sang another verse to that old song
"Come on, Jack, that son of a bitch is coming"
And we're desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train
Like desperados waiting for a train