Everybody stand in line it ain't gonna cost you a dime This show is about to start so close the door We'll turn the lights down low turn the big spot
There's pictures in my mind I've never seen before. There's emptiness I find my love and yes there's even more. There's loneliness that cuts me like
Hey there Mr Bartender now have a little pitty on me Time is rough and a fuss is tough and I'm where I'm not supposed to be I'll give you my watch for
How are you how you been funny seeing you again I'm all right hope you are too by the way I still love you Is he nice that's fine yes he once was a friend
Woke up Sunday morning and I thought that I could sing But I can't no I can't Woke up Sunday morning and I thought I heard bells ring But they don't
She'll be thirty two in July And she's only known one man A blue-eyed talker name of Hawkeye Sometimes he sold pots and pans He came to her house late
In the waking hours of some not too distant morning you come walking barefoot to this cowl pulled mind selling yesterday's dreams wrapped in tomorrow
Standing on the corner with a raggedi-old suitcase by my side Waiting for a Greyhound bus to come along so I can hook a ride Gonna go as far as 14 dollars
Buddy can you spare a dime For a little glass of wine Buddy don't you pity me Just one drink then I'll be In a world all my own The only place I call
Johnny Blakely robbed the bank way down in El Paso He got thirty four dollars and a sack of green stamps I know He didn't tell nobody but his little
Five more miles to Folsom. This train can't move too slow. Ninety-nine years at Folsom. Then they'll let me go. Shot a man in Dallas. He made a fool
and some other guy We hook some rides, stood side by side and watch cars go by Easy and me and some other guy The days and the nights we cared for each other
Loneliness is all I understand Happiness is in another land Tenderness is what I felt today When you touched my lonely hands And today was a day like
Gypsies and Indians Gypsies and Indians God cut us from the same tree Gypsies and Indians Gypsies and Indians No place to go no place to be No place
Hey cowboy, where did you get the clothes you wear Hey cowboy, where did you get the funny hair What are you doing in the land of the midnight sun 'cause
Well it's lonesome in this big town everybody puts me down I'm a face without a name just a walkin' in the rain I'm going back to Houston Houston Houston
Cold, cold, cold, cold, it's cold in the Hutchinson Jail Somebody help me please I'm as helpless as can be And I don't know what my life is comin' to
The hurt I hurt is nothing like the hurts I've hurt before The things I feel do not feel like things I've felt before And the loneliness and the emptiness
