I stood out on the tressle waitin' for the whistle:
The 4.09 was right on time again.
Lord, I'd a-got a lickin' if they caught me playin' chicken,
But I was quite the practised liar way back then.
I saw the smoke above the treetops,
An' when the train came into view,
I stood still as a statue, but I knew what to do.
When I could read the numbers on the front:
I'd run like a gipsy, like the hounds of hell'd get me,
Like a rabbit on the wrong end of a gun.
I'd run like the lightning cuttin' 'cross the Kansas skyline,
Like the tears that Momma cried for her lost son:
I'd run: yeah, I'd run.
I got older but no smarter an cheatin' fate got harder,
But I could still outwit the devil an' his friends.
Went through whiskey, cards an' women, takin' more than I was givin',
Throwin' love an' caution to wind.
Every time I'd let some beauty,
Get a little too close to me,
She'd hang around just long enough to find herself the key.
When I could feel the lock on my heart come undone,
I'd run like a gipsy, like the hounds of hell'd get me,
Like a rabbit on the wrong end of a gun.
I'd run like the lightning cuttin' 'cross the Kansas skyline,
Like the tears that Momma cried for her lost son:
I'd run: yeah, I'd run.
There's broken hearts an' broken bottles,
An' dreams all gone to dust.
Girls gone home to Momma an' cars all gone to rust.
If I could go back an' undo the hurt I'd done,
I'd run like a gipsy, like the hounds of hell'd get me,
Like the rabbit on the wrong end of a gun.
I'd run like the lightning cuttin' 'cross the Kansas skyline,
Like the tears that Momma cried for her lost son:
I'd run: yeah, I'd run.
You know I'd run:
Yeah, I'd run.
compositores: ANNIE TATE, JIMMY RITCHEY, SAM M. TATE
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