High Sierra
I was down on my luck, so down on my luck
Packed my bags and left the big city and the trouble I'd seen
Took the highway north, tryin' to find some place where the air felt clean
I came upon that little café in the early spring
Where, as you came through the door, above a little bell would ring
She was waiting there, in the High Sierras
A flower in her long black hair, in the High Sierras
I'd been down on my luck, so down on my luck
It was laughter and wine, and warm endless nights
In that little motel, I could have stayed there the rest of my life
I found a job at the filling station, she worked at the luncheonette
In the evening she'd set the table, as I washed off the dirt and sweat
Then it was good as it gets, just as good as it gets
We were happy there, in the High Sierras
Oh, so happy there, in the High Sierras
And I'd been down on my luck, and she lifted me up
One day a man came through town, someone I used to know
Reminded me of something I'd done a long time ago
I told him I changed He said: We owe what we owe
That evening I boarded the train into the big city
I told her I'd be back again, soon, from the big city
It's just old business that had to be done
As the train left the station, they gave me my gun
The day smelled of ash
The sky was hard and blue
All I remember was my shirt, with the blood seeping through
At dusk she'd set the tables for the morning shift
She'd sit on the motel porch with a beer and cigarette
As the summer nights would drift
Seasons passed and the winter snow melted come the early spring
At the luncheonette she'd look up from the counter
Each time that little bell would ring
We were happy there, in the High Sierras
Oh, so happy there, in the High Sierras
I was down on my luck, she lifted me up
Alta Sierra
Eu estava na pior, tão na pior
Fiz as malas e deixei a grande cidade e os problemas que vi
Peguei a estrada pro norte, tentando achar um lugar onde o ar fosse limpo
Encontrei aquele cafézinho no início da primavera
Onde, ao entrar, uma sinetinha tocava
Ela estava lá, nas Altas Sierras
Uma flor no cabelo preto e longo, nas Altas Sierras
Eu tinha caído na pior, tão na pior
Era risada e vinho, e noites quentes sem fim
Naquele motelzinho, eu poderia ter ficado ali o resto da vida
Consegui um trampo no posto de gasolina, ela trabalhava na lanchonete
À noite, ela arrumava a mesa, enquanto eu lavava a sujeira e o suor
Então era tão bom quanto poderia ser, tão bom quanto poderia ser
Fomos felizes ali, nas Altas Sierras
Oh, tão felizes ali, nas Altas Sierras
E eu estava na pior, e ela me levantou
Um dia, um cara passou pela cidade, alguém que eu conhecia
Me lembrou de algo que fiz há muito tempo
Eu disse que mudei, ele disse: Devemos o que devemos
Naquela noite, peguei o trem pra grande cidade
Disse a ela que voltaria logo, da grande cidade
Era só um velho assunto que precisava ser resolvido
Quando o trem saiu da estação, me deram minha arma
O dia cheirava a cinzas
O céu estava duro e azul
Tudo que lembro era da minha camisa, com o sangue vazando
Ao anoitecer, ela arrumava as mesas pro turno da manhã
Ela sentava na varanda do motel com uma cerveja e um cigarro
Enquanto as noites de verão passavam
As estações mudaram e a neve do inverno derreteu na primavera
Na lanchonete, ela olhava pra cima do balcão
Cada vez que a sinetinha tocava
Fomos felizes ali, nas Altas Sierras
Oh, tão felizes ali, nas Altas Sierras
Eu estava na pior, ela me levantou