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The Messenger
by
Ray Wylie Hubbard
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I am wearing old boots with high Cuban heels Our souls, they are worn and we stand here by grace My trousers are torn and my jacket is borrowed And I'm wearing my time behind the eyes in my face I am not looking for loose diamonds Or pretty girls with crosses around their necks And I don't want four roses or water I'm not looking for God, I'm not looking for sex I've worn out my welcome in certain small circles In Spanish bordellos and confederate states But there is an angel in her leathers and kindness And she whispers my name as she smiles at my face I am not looking for loose diamonds Or pretty girls with crosses around their necks And I don't want four roses or water I'm not looking for God, I'm not looking for sex And all the true believers are out on the road tonight And no matter what happens, you know they'll be okay And to the rock and roll gypsies, may the last song you sing Be by old Mr. Van Zandt if you find yourself out in Santa Fe Now I have a mission and a small code of honor To stand and deliver to you by whatever measures And the message that I give ya, I got from this old poet He said, "Our fears are like dragons guarding our most precious treasures" So I am not looking for loose diamonds Or pretty girls with crosses around their necks I don't want four roses or water I'm not looking for God, and I just wanna see what's next
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