drove all night through the hail and the rain
just a tumble weed down the highway blown
fueled up on red bull and mescaline
headed for a roadhouse in San Anton

On a third rate honky tonk tour
cigarette smoke lingers on my skin
my guitar rides shotgun by the door
this machine and I and the things we've seen

This machine don't run on gasoline
its fueled by heartache rhythm and blues
This machine has scars and broken strings
known to kill a fascists or two

And sing a lullaby soft as an Autumn sky
or suck the poison from life's sting
washed in the blood whiskey and rye
strum her hard and let her ring
strum her hard and let her sing

I don't know if ill see tomorrow
I'm just trying to get through the night
my cup runneth over with tears of sorrow
Juke box moans i saw the light

Now and then i get the feeling
the spirit washes over me
bend those notes and start the healing
somewhere between here and sanity