Wrath is coming out on the horizon
Storm is rolling and that rivers rising
This old motor is gonna carry my through

Spend my last dollar coming home to you

Spend your youth in the desert see those days in my eyes

Paying for a rich mans holdings with a poor boys life
Heres you bus to missouri sign you name on the line
You too young to drink now son but old enough to die


Tip that cup full of sorrow go on and drink your fill
Turn your back on a setting sun and head for the hills