Inside the Sad Cafe. Inside the Sad Cafe Out in the shiny night The rain was softly falling The tracks that ran down the boulevard Had all been washed away Out of the silver light the past came softly calling And I remember the times we spent Oh it

Don't try to understand A life upon the road is the life of an outlaw man Woman, don't try to love me I am an outlaw, I was born an outlaw's son The highway is my legacy On the highway I will run In one hand I've a Bible In the other I've got a gun Well,

Too busy to think about us And you were just too busy being fabulous 'Cause you were just too busy being fabulous I came home to an empty house And I found your little note 'Don't wait up for me tonight' And that was all she wrote Do you think I don't

Well baby, there you stand With your little head, down in your hand Oh, my God, you can't believe it's happening again Your baby's gone, and you're all alone And it looks like the end And you're back out on the street And you're tryin' to remember How do

The shape shifter I am the walker on the wind I am the eagle in the sky Howling in the night I was born of giant's blood Raised in Asgård, the home of gods I am the master of disguise For this trait I've gained your prise Fast in thought, quicker tongue

Ever since the day When the world was an onion For the spirit to soar and play That's how it's gotta be Whatever is right for the bumble bee And river and the eagle is right for me River, it likes to flow Eagle, it likes to fly

Loving her was easier Than anything I'll ever do again I have seen the morning Burning golden on the mountain in the skies Aching with the feeling Of the freedom of an eagle when she flies Turning on the world The way she smiled upon my soul as I lay

They were doolin', doolin'-dalton High or low, it was the same Easy money, and faithless women Red eye whiskey for the pain. Go down little dalton, it must be God's will Two brothers lyin' dead in Coffeeville. Two voices call to you from where they

I will not be a victim of romance I will not be a victim of circumstance Chance or circumstance or romance, or any man Who could get his dirty little hands on me When we were in love, if we were When we were in love I was an eagle And you were a dove So

'Cause the Greeks don't want no freaks No, the Greeks don't want no freaks But the Greeks don't want no freaks There was beer all over the dance floor And the band was playin' rhythm and blues You got down and did the gator And half an hour later you