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Ballad of a Lonesome Drifter
Charley Crockett
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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He doesn't say too much
And his throat is dry
What he wants
Is a bottle of rye
Born just to play
A bad luck hand
This here's the tale
Of a Texican
As the night rolls in
And the sun goes down
He'll find himself
In a different town
All the good time women
Prophets drunks and thieves
Will soon find out
What the Texican means
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Mexican boots
And a Stetson hat
Gun is slung low
With the trigger tied back
These are the marks
Of a fighting man
A kind they call
The Texican
Jingling spurs
On a hardwood door
A poker game
Just made for four
But if you sit in
For a card or two
You'll wind up dead
Before you're through
Border winds
Border winds
Where do you go
Cover my trail tonight
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