Whe the sun sets in the west it’s time for front porch drinking & one more cigarette. Before we’ll go to the valley below. And when the sun sets in the west there’s always one more valley to cross, buddy. And one more drink.
ay, Fritsch, buddy, those low sunsets and those great little inns along the way are what men like us live for, it’s just another glass and one more smoke and down that lost highway we go, pal, Down that lost highway we go ….