Run Conejo Run

The other kids called him Conejo 'cause he was fast on his feet
 And he was quick with his fists if he had trouble in the streets
 But when his old man would hit the bottle, he'd kick Conejo's ass
 So with a wounded heart Conejo swore he'd out run his past
 Run Conejo Run
 He boxed lightweight at the Olympic down in dirty old L.A.
 And he earned his Golden Gloves by putting sixteen fighters away
 But the seventeenth one nailed him and blinded his left eye
 So with busted fingers and a battered brain, he kissed the ring goodbye
 Run Conejo Run, Run Conejo Run
 Run through the dark night to the rising sun
 Run Conejo Run
 He was singing in a barroom on the night that we crossed paths
 We'd known each other all our lives but finally met at last
 Then we ran these highways twenty years fueled by beer and nicotine
 From New York to Nogales and every joint in between
 Run Conejo Run
 He told me his life story, his joys and his regrets
 From the hot streets of Tucson to a cold prison in Quebec
 From his ex-wives and old lovers and the promises they believed
 To the daughter in Louisiana that he never wanted to leave
 Run Conejo Run
 Run Conejo Run, Run Conejo Run
 Run through the dark night to the rising sun
 Run Conejo Run
 Well, it's three hours past midnight and I'm driving Interstate Ten
 A hundred miles out of El Paso and I'm thinking of my old friend
 I know that I can't see you but I can feel you by my side
 So, light up a cig, Conejo, and let's go for another ride
 Run Conejo Run
 Run Conejo Run, Run Conejo Run
 Run through the dark night to the rising sun
 Run Conejo Run