Was it you I used to know
I'm alive and feeling fine
You can share my poison wine
No marigolds in the promised land
There's a hole in the ground
Any man left on the Rio Grande
I don't need your helping hand
You and I will spend this day
Through the ruins of Santa Fe
I'm reading last year's papers
Although I don't know why
Assassins cons and rapers
No more pain and no regrets
Smoking cobalt cigarettes
Taking things the easy way
I might live til Saturday