The Show
Freight train plays a major seventh chord
Sign across the street says praise the Lord
Hotel coffee tastes like kerosene
And I’m happy as I think I’ve ever been
I don’t really know just where I am
Somewhere between Bend and Birmingham
Here with you in some borrowed zip code
Nothin’ on our minds but the show
Be home tomorrow evening if we fly
If the weather’s clear and the interstate stays dry
Nineteen songs and one more night to go
Time to get it up for the show
From time to time you may hear me complain
But only in passing like that old freight train
As if to make my presence known
As if to say I’m not alone
So leave that don’t disturb sign on the door
Come lie beside your weary troubadour
We’ll rest ourselves before it’s time to go
What we got left we’ll save it for the show
