Tono: G
Introducción:
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Every once in awhile, I do drift homewards
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Sometimes I drive, sometimes I just dream
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400 miles in six hard pushing hours
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To check on a life that is just out of reach
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I think of a child sleeping by open windows
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Two miles away there's this bar on a hill
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Playing conjunto into the small hours
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It drifts cross the plowed fields and his window sill
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I like the sound of a Mexican bass run
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I like the feel that it puts in my bones
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Sometimes I wonder how I ever got here
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I'm just trying to get home
I traded rattlers and scorpions for roaches