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Pancho and Lefty

(Steve Einhorn)
written by Townes Van Zandt
Livin' on the road, my friend
Was gonna keep you free and clean
Now you wear your skin like iron
And your breath's as hard as kerosene
You weren't your mama's only boy
But her favorite one, it seems
She began to cry when you said goodbye
And sank into your dreams

Pancho was a bandit, boys
His horse was fast as polished steel
He wore his gun outside his pants
For all the honest world to feel
Pancho met his match, you know
On the desert down in Mexico
And nobody heard his dying words
But that's the way it goes...

All the federales say,
"Could've had him any day;
We only let him slip away,
Out of kindness, I suppose."

Lefty, he can't sing the blues
All night long like he used to
The dust that Pancho bit down south
Ended up in Lefty's mouth
The day they laid poor Pancho low
Lefty split for Ohio
And where he got the bread to go
There ain't nobody knows

The poets tell how Pancho fell
And Lefty's livin' in a cheap hotel
The desert's hot and Cleveland's cold
And so the story ends, I'm told
Pancho needs your prayers, it's true
But save a few for Lefty too
He only did what he had to do
And now he's growin' old...