DOWN THE RIO GRANDE
Baby pulled her blue dress on and walked out in the night,
left one silk stocking danglin' from the bedside light.
I sobered up and called her name just before the dawn.
I followed footprints through the sand, I knew where she had gone...
down the Rio Grande... down the Rio Grande.
I pulled out of Albuquerque, must have been past eight.
Four cups of coffee and I hit the interstate.
Rollin' through Las Cruces, I thought I saw her car.
She always said she'd go someday, she never said how far
down the Rio Grande... down the Rio Grande.
CHORUS:
Maybe she's in Brownsville, she's got some family there.
She always talked about the salty gulf coast air
where the river ends... down the Rio Grande.
I saw an old grey heron flyin' south against the wind,
storm clouds over Juarez rollin' down to the Big Bend,
I called her name in Esperanza's dusty desert rain,
but who knows what the hell I'd say if I found her again
on the Rio Grande... down the Rio Grande.
I turned south on Highway 90, sky began to clear,
black mountains out ahead, red sundown, rearview mirror,
and haunted by her dark, wet skin movin' next to mine,
I swore that things'd change if I could hold her one more time
on the Rio Grande... down the Rio Grande.
REPEAT CHORUS
I bought a bottle in Del Rio, and pulled out off the road,
spent the whole night starin' at the lights of Mexico.
I walked down to the border bridge about the break of day,
I threw that empty bottle off and I watched it float away
down the Rio Grande... down the Rio Grande.
Now I'm on my way to Brownsville and the Gulf of Mexico.
Just like that empty bottle, I may sink, or else I'll float
to the river's end... down the Rio Grande.
Baby pulled her blue dress on and walked out in the night...
down the Rio Grande.