Coyote (2024 Remaster)

No regrets, Coyote
We just come from such different sets of circumstance
I'm up all night in the studios, and you're up early on your ranch
You'll be brushing out a broodmare's tail while the sun is ascending
And I'll just be getting home with my reel-to-reel
There's no comprehending

Just how close to the bone and the skin
And the eyes, and the lips you can get
And still feel so alone, and still feel related
Like stations in some relay
You're not a hit-and-run driver, no, no, racing away
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway

We saw a farmhouse burning down in the middle of nowhere
In the middle of the night
And we rolled right past that tragedy
'Til we turned into some roadhouse lights
Where a local band was playing
Locals were up kicking and shaking on the floor

And the next thing I know
That coyote's at my door
He pins me in a corner, and he won't take no
He drags me out on the dance floor
And we're dancing close and slow

Now he's got a woman at home
He's got another woman down the hall
He seems to want me anyway
Why'd you have to get so drunk
And lead me on that way?
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway

I looked a coyote right in the face
On the road to Baljennie near my old hometown
He went running through the whisker wheat
Chasing some prize down
And a hawk was playing with him
Coyote was jumping straight up and making passes
He had those same eyes just like yours
Under your dark glasses

Privately probing the public rooms
And peeking through keyholes in numbered doors
Where the players lick their wounds
And take their temporary lovers
And their pills and powders to get them through this passion play
No regrets, Coyote, I just get off up aways
You just picked up a hitcher
A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway

Coyote's in the coffee shop
He's staring a hole in his scrambled eggs
He picks up my scent on his fingers
While he's watching the waitresses' legs
He's too far from the Bay of Fundy
From appaloosas and eagles and tides
And the air-conditioned cubicles
And the carbon ribbon rides
Are spelling it out so clear

Either he's going to have to stand and fight
Or take off out of here
I tried to run away myself
To run away and wrestle with my ego
And with this flame
You put here in this Eskimo, in this hitcher
In this prisoner of the fine white lines
Of the white lines on the free freeway