No regrets coyote
we just come from such different sets of circumstance
iand'm up all night in the studios
and youand're up early on your ranch
youand'll be brushing out a brood mareand's tail
while the sun is ascending
and iand'll just be getting home with my reel to reel...
thereand's no comprehending
just how close to the bone and the skin and the eyes
and the lips you can get
and still feel so alone
and still feel related
like stations in some relay
youand're not a hit and run driver, no, no
racing away
you just picked up a hitcher
a prisoner of the white lines on the freeway
We saw a farmhouse burning down
in the middle of nowhere
in the middle of the night
and we rolled right past that tragedy
till we turned into some road house lights
where a local band was playing
locals were up kicking and shaking on the floor
and the next thing i know
that coyoteand's at my door
he pins me in a corner and he wonand't take andquot;no!andquot;
he drags me out on the dance floor
and weand're dancing close and slow
now heand's got a woman at home
heand's got another woman down the hall
he seems to want me anyway
whyand'd you have to get so drunk
and lead me on that way
you just picked up a hitcher
a prisoner of the white lines of the freeway
I looked a coyote right in the face
on the road to baljennie near my old home town
he went running thru the whisker wheat
chasing some prize down
and a hawk was playing with him
coyote was jumping straight up and making passes
he had those same eyes - just like yours
under your dark glasses
privately probing the public rooms
and peeking thru keyholes in numbered doors
where the players lick their wounds
and take their temporary lovers
and their pills and powders to get them thru this passion play
No regrets, coyote
i just get off up aways
you just picked up a hitcher
a prisoner of the white lines on the freeway
Coyoteand's in the coffee shop
heand's staring a hole in his scrambled eggs
he picks up my scent on his fingers
while heand's watching the waitressesand' legs
heand's too fat from the bay of fundy
from appaloosas and eagles and tides
and the air conditioned cubicles
and the carbon ribbon rides
are spelling it out so clear
either heand's going to have to stand and fight
or take off out of here
i tried to run away myself
to run away and wrestle with my ego
and with this flame
you put here in this eskimo
in this hitcher
in this prisoner
of the fine white lines
of the white lines on the free, free way
