Townes' Blues

You're clean as
 A widow woman's washboard, son,
 Stick it in the wind.
 Put the mountains to your back
 The great plains on your grille
 Time to take a little spin.
 Boulder looks like the type of town
 That I could spend some time,
 But in Houston they got our name in lights.
 You're clean as
 A widow woman's washboard, son,
 The slab is yours tonight.
 Townes is in the back lounge
 With his hands in his pocket
 Pulls out two die and says let's get at it.
 Salina in the headlights, snake eyes on the floor,
 Al drops another twenty, Pete heads for the door,
 Springer's feeling lucky, sits down for a spell,
 Oklahoma City and he's lost his last bill.
 Jeff is in a bind waiting on sister hicks
 Seven comes a-calling as we cross on into Texas.
 Townes is in the back lounge
 With a fist full of fives
 He says, it's a little bit long
 But I'm enjoying this ride.
 Be careful with the die
 When you're surrounded by others
 With boxcars in their eyes.
 Never count your winnings at hour 23
 Of a 24-hour drive.
 Remember that you're not the one calling the tune
 That's making those diamonds dance
 Or you'll be clean as
 A widow woman's washboard, son,
 And those are the facts.
 Townes is in the back lounge
 Cursing at them bones
 He says, ain't this fool ever heard of Raton.