By the time I thought about missing you,
You were Portland bound,
Hellbent for the northwest running,
Underground, underground,
Underground, underground.
What's the weather doin’ out on 101?
Hot as a book of matches in my car,
You go watching each one burn me on down,
I lost track of everything till I found, you out.
Am I supposed to hop the next train,
Or stand here drowning in the Oregon rain?
Pacific wind call my name,
Seven devils to carry me away.
Now there’s nothin’ left to save your silhouette,
A breath of old fashioned, and foreign cigarette,
Those wicked words you whispеred me echoеd so true,
No big champion, someone else standin’ in the room.
Am I supposed to hop the next train,
Or stand here drowning in the Oregon rain?
Pacific wind call my name,
Seven devils to carry me away.
(Ends 8:44)