(by Bruce "U. Utah" Phillips)

Too old to wrangle or ride on the swing,
You beat the triangle and curse everything.
If dirt was a kingdom, then you'd be the king

	On the Goodnight Trail, on the Loving Trail,
	Our Old Woman's lonesome tonight.
	Your French harp blows like the lone bawling calf.
	It's a wonder the wind don't tear off your skin
	And get in there and blow out the light.

With your snake oil and herbs and your liniment, too,
You can do anything that a doctor can do,
Except find a cure for your own god damned stew

	On the Goodnight Trail ...
The cookfire's out and the coffee's all gone,
The boys are all up and they're raising the dawn.
You're still sitting there, lost in a song

	On the Goodnight Trail ...
I know that some day I'll be just the same,
Wearing an apron instead of a name.
No one can change it, and no one's to blame
For the desert's a book writ in lizards and sage,
Easy to look like an old torn out page,
Faded and cracked with the colors of age

	On the Goodnight Trail ...

recording: Finest Kind, Lost in a Song [YouTube]

recording: U. Utah Phillips, Starlight on the Rails [YouTube]

recording: Tom Waits [YouTube]

recording: Finest Kind with Coope, Boyes, & Simpson, Derby Folk Festival 2017 [YouTube]

history: song history and context [My-West]