Nobody's Song

Wind whispers a song through the dry desert grass

on the side of the road where the big rigs pass

on the road to Del Rio and to old Mexico

with a storm brewing somewhere as the sun sets low.

Nobody can hear it, no one sings along.

Nobody knows how right it sounds,

Nobody knows how wrong.

Nobody copyrights it, ‘cause it’s nobody’s song,

No one but nobody ‘cause it’s nobody’s song.

Stars light the Nueces, the white rocks on her banks

and the bones of a man lyin’ by some dried up water tank.