I sing songs about Texas, I sing them often as if she were some old lover, I
used to know, wish I could follow them back to the homeland every time I hear
one on my radio. Twin fiddles playing in my memory, my daddy sang the wonders
of old cow town, silver haired and he's still there under a sky so warm and
fair, I tell you friends there's a song in every town.

So sing me one more song about old San Antone, it seems like a dream now it was
so long ago, and Jerry Jeff Walker can be just ike a cold front on the coast
well I'm going home.

Well it's nothing short of the gospel hymns, I guess that's why folks keep
writing 'em when I die, I want to go there too, some day I hope to walk along
heaven's street, and I'll still be looking for my taco meat and I swear I hear
a steel guitar rising in the air.
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So sing me one more song about old San Antone, it seems like a dream now it was
so long ago, and old Guy Clark he can be just ike a cold front on the coast
well I'm going home.

When the night is real real still, swear I could hear a whippoorwill, she knows
there's music in the dirt down there, hill country rain is a cleansing thing
and all I have to see one, sitting in a shallow creek got nothing to do.

So sing me one more song about old San Antone, it seems like a dream now it was
so long ago, and Jerry Jeff Walker can be just ike a cold front on the coast
well I'm going home.

So sing me one more song about those dusty plains, them honky tonk angels, and
their lonely beehive pain, wish I was stowed away on some fast moving train
going home, yeah I'm going home.

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