Tommy Cicero Lyrics

Tommy Cicero left his life in Buffalo

Hopped a grain train bound for the border town of

El Paso

Where he doesn't have a woe 'til the next one

His knapsack contains a black mask

Twenty grand in cash, a knife

And half his dealer's stash

He fled to

El Paso, where the milk and honey flow

And he doesn't have a woe 'til the next one

But there's always a next one, anywhere he'd go

Such was the poor dumb luck of old Tom Cicero

He claims he's always in the wrong place

He claims it's always at the wrong time

Down south he ran his smart mouth

Got himself attacked over a half a pint of Jack

He fled to El Paso

Where he doesn't have a woe 'til the next one

Suit in shambles, every cent he had he's gambled

Lights a bent smoke

Dreaming of the glories spoke of

El Paso, where the milk and honey flow

And he doesn't have a woe 'til the next one

Who knew one man could fall so low

As we all watch Tommy slink away

From another lead he's blown

Hell, I wonder 'bout him sometime

I'd kind of like to know

Whatever became of old Tom Cicero

A year later stranded in an elevator

They were dead wrong

In every single song they sang of

El Paso, Where he doesn't know a soul

And the milk and honey flow

And he doesn't have a woe 'til the next one