I am wearing old boots with high cuban heels
Our souls they are worn and we stand here by grace
My trousers are torn and my jacket is borrowed
I am wearing my time behind the eyes in my face
I am not looking for loose diamonds
Or pretty girls with crosses around their necks
I don't want for roses or water, I am not looking for God
I am not looking for sex
I've worn out my welcome in certain small circles
All the true believers are out on the road tonite
No matter what happens, you know they'll be okay
And to the rock and roll gypsies may the last song you sing
Be by Townes Van Zandt and down in old Santa Fe
Now I have a mission and a small code of honor