Whitehorse You Get Older
He left the morning after
Panicked and confused
The night, it was a blur
But his knuckle, they were bruised
The sign just flipped to open
As he stumbled from the storm
A pack of smokes, a lighter
That he stole out of her drawer
Oh, you get colder
You get older
Everyday
In the in back of el Ranchero
Collecting all the scraps
A coaster with a number and a dented baseball bat
Dialed unfamiliar digits
Maybe deep into Durango
As city made of tin cans
And another made of gold
Oh, you get colder
You get older
Everyday
I'm searching high and low
For a place to call home
From Tecate to Bisbee
Tuscon to Jerome
The whippoorwills awaken
As he loads another fly
No family of his own
Just the ones that he forgot
Oh, you get colder
You get older
Everyday
Oh, you get colder
You get older
Everyday