Brothers of the Music

HELD UP IN AN OLD CAMEL DRIVER MOTEL ROOM
IN SOME OLD NORTHERN CITY
SMOKING CIGARETTES AND KILLING TIME
TILL IT’S TIME FOR US TO PLAY
IT’S ALMOST LIKE AN OLD BLACK AND WHITE
LIKEN UNTO OUTLAWS HELD UP TO ROB A STAGE
SINGIN' HIGH-O HIGH-O
WE’RE PART OF THE 1990'S SIDESHOW
HIGH-O HIGH-O
WE’RE BROTHERS OF THE MUSIC
AND PARTNERS OF THE ROAD
IT’S HARD TO FACE THE CROWD
AND WATCH EACH OTHERS BACK
AT LEAST WE CARRY PISTOLS
JUST LIKE THEM
AND A PISTOL MAKES YOU RIGHT
OUR MINDS KEEP CHANGIN' CENTURIES
BUT THE SPOTLIGHT LOOKS THE SAME
JESSE, IS THIS WILLIE’S PICNIC
OR ARE WE HERE TO ROB A TRAIN
REPEAT CHORUS
RECITATION
JESSE PACKED UP HIS GUITAR
AND WITH A DESPERATE VOICE
SAID LET’S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE MAN
SO WE LOADED UP AND STARTED CHASIN' WHITE LINES
INTO THE FAMILIAR NIGHT OF WAFFLE HOUSES AND TRUCK STOPS
LIKE A THOUSAND OTHER TIMES
REPEAT CHORUS
WE’RE BROTHERS OF THE MUSIC
AND WE’RE PARTNERS OF THE ROAD