Pancho Doesn’t Live Here Amigo
The complex tears man asunder. What is simple heals him. Even if the balm be unctuous.
The complex tears man asunder. What is simple heals him. Even if the balm be unctuous.
Went West with dust of haunted dreams in my blood. Stopped just short of where white caps crash against the sky. In Denver, just to get away, because I have to get away from something, just to kill some time, because I have to kill something.
I’ve lived through broken hearts and broken bones and broken dreams and broken teeth and broken homes and broken promises and broken silences and broken records…