Lyrics Steve Earle

Steve Earle

Red is the Color

North wind blowin' like a hurricane house

Old man leanin' like he's pullin' a plow

Neck bowed, bendin' like a willow bough

Red sky color of the end of time

Bleeds dry runnin' down the center line

Wise guy pretends he doesn't see the signs

Bad news everybody talkin' 'bout

A short fuse a half an inch from burnin' out

All used up beyond a reasonable doubt

Make way for his majesty the prodigal king

Still taste the poison when you're kissin' the ring

Don't say he never gave you anything

Deep breath the calm before the storm begins

Cold sweat pretend that you ain't listenin'

Don't bet on gettin' by with that again

Short ride from here to where the beast resides

Fine line that separates the shadows inside

Make mine a double shot of cyanide