From Vila De Cubero....

...as I tried to flee,
the old Ford wouldn't go, and so it came to be,
I was stuck here, without help, there was no place to go,
might as well be at home here in this old Pueblo.

The old stone motel doesn't have a roof,
and this is a ghost town, if you needed proof.
I wonder if at my next meal I'll have a guest,
another ghost or someone, or is there only Jeff.

I need to be leaving here, I'm working on the motor,
and then I stop and ask myself, what the hell's a rotor.
It's part of the distributor, I now understand,
but how can I get one, stuck out here in this land.

Now, you won't believe this, but it's really true,
Jeff came to visit, the part was there out of the blue.
How he does that I don't know,
but that means that I am free right now, and that I can go.

See you tomorrow. (Jeff may ride along)

There ain't....

....no tellin' how long it could take,
get this old car runnin', now that take's the cake.
One thing after another, or so it seems,
this doggone thing won't run on dreams.

Well Roscoe says the muffler is bad,
down at the junk yard there's no to be had.
We got one on finally, now it ain't busted,
but poor ol' me, well, I'm exhausted. (pun intended)

Now he tells me the carburetor broke,
somethin' 'bout a thing called a float.
I told him that this was a car,
it won't go in water, I won't drive it that far.

Roscoe told me it helps the car pass gas,
and I told him he was a pain in the ass.
He said wait a minute, it ain't what you think,
you don't have to work, and it don't stink.

Gee, I can't tell you how glad I am,
finally got the thing going, and I'm on the lam.
I'll tell you about my plans for a trip,
next time I write, boy it'll be a pip.