Dave Alvin. Rio Grande. Zeneszám

I guess she put her blue dress on
And walked out late last night
Left one silk stocking
Dangling from the bedside light
I sobered up and called her name
Just before the dawn
I saw her footprints in the sand
And knew that she had gone
Down the Rio Grande.

I pulled out of Albuquerque
Prayin? I wasn?t late
I got a couple cups of coffee
At some joint off the interstate
Passin? through Las Cruces
I swear I saw her car
She always said she?d go someday
But never said how far
Down the Rio Grande.

Maybe she?s in Brownsville
She?s got some family there
She was always talkin? ?bout
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? east to the Big Bend
I drove down Highway Ninety
Through a dusty desert wind
I didn?t know where it would lead me
Or if I?d find her again
Down the Rio Grande.

I lit my last cigarette
As the sky began to clear
Black mountains up ahead
A red sundown in my mirror
Lost all the border
?Tween the future and the past
One fading slowly
And the other comin? fast
Down the Rio Grande.

Maybe she?s in Brownsville
She?s got some family there
She was always talkin? ?bout
The salty gulf coast air
Where the river ends
Down the Rio Grande.

I bought a bottle in Del Rio
And I parked on the side of the road
I stayed up all night
Starin? at the lights of Mexico
And I walked down to border bridge
At the break of day
And I threw that empty bottle off
And I watched it float away
Down the Rio Grande.

Maybe she?s in Brownsville
She?s got some family there
She was always talkin ?bout
The salty gulf coast air
Where the river ends
Down the Rio Grande
Where the river ends.