The Beauty In Her Face
Quelle: Spotify
It was a dark dusty road in west Texas
Where a young cowboy thumbed down a ride.
Got in the truck with a suitcase and a fiddle
And a bag that he kept by his side.
The farmer could see that this young man was broken
By the thunder that peeled in his mind
So he offered this bottle of tequilla
"Tune the radio and see what you can find”
By and by the young man grew a bit more social
Concealing the worries in his head
Said he didn't care for the mariachi on the radio
Would he mind if he tuned to something else instead?
The dial was blue, the night was black as bile,
And the radio glowed upon his face
He grew still as he fooled with the dial
Tuning signals that came from outer space
Adjusting the mirror the better to regard him
The farmer asked him how far he planned to go.
The cowboy asked if he would take him across the border
and after that he really didn't know
The farmer said “Eho I can see that you are troubled
By things I don't think you can out run.
But I will take you far across the border,
If you'll use my ears and tell me what you know.”
They kept the silence for another mile,
Then the cowboy flicked his cigarette outside.
Then he took another pull from the bottle,
While the truth search for words on which to ride.
He said “I fell in love with a girl who played the fiddle
and the way she held the bow in her hand.
But my heart was broken by a promise
She had given to a luckier man.
Before I could go I just knew I had to find her,
Take with my the memory of her face.
The night was starless as I stood before the lady
Tuned in signals that came from outer space.
No one could find her on the day she was to marry
And they left the church fearful of the cause.
The next day someone found a woman's body,
But no one could be sure just who she was.
Sometimes when I'm dialing on the radio
I think I hear a fiddle start to play.
But I can never tune in the signal,
And I never hear what she's trying to say.”
Farmer said “Eho I don't think that you will find her,
And this journey will only lead you way to hell
You must go back and stand upon the gallows
I reckon that's what the signals trying to tell.”
Police stopped them as they tried to cross at Roma,
And he nodded when they read him his rights.
And in the truck he left the suitcase and the fiddle
And the bag he'd kept by his side.
The farmer took the bag and looked there in side it,
And was struck by the beauty in her face.
In the dark with all the sorrow and the horror
And the signals that came from outer space.
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