Broke down in a ghost town; last train left the station,
Long-faced and lonely, bearing a grave sin.
Out on the prairie, the spook-lights shine,
Lighting up the faces of the dead, the losing kind.
Black night on the boulevard, don your streetlight halo.
Take a spin on my medicine wheel, but stay off the main roads.
Empty streets and tumbleweeds, the only company.
Prying eyes and whisp'ring lies, you crank that skeleton key.
