Holed up in an abandoned logging town
With Hippies, Outlaw Bikers and Cattle Thieves,
Slow Elk roasting on the coals.
A bottle of Tequila makes the rounds,
The holy sacrament of our Brotherhood.
In Jesus name, Amen.

Jesus was my brother.
We fished for trout on the Southfork
And raised the dead on Friday night.
He left me this book of parables,
Every line written in blood,
And I'm still trying to figure 'em out.

The Devil wears a suit and tie,
And carries a platinum card.
He married all my sisters
And branded all the cattle in the valley.
He drives a big threshing machine
And owns the only newspaper in town.

Pass me that guitar
 and I'll play you the oldest song I know.
Twenty-three verses in a minor key.
It's about a knight and a silver chalice.
His lady has to die in the end
And he rides across the desert
Calling out her name for all eternity.

You know that Lawman's on our trail,
Big ol' Fourty-fours gleaming in the moonlight,
Heart filled with the wrath of Justice,
 and the American way.
Take it easey, Big John,
We're only drinkin',
And plotting our next move.

Now pass me that bottle, bro.
Take this guitar and play us your song.
The stars up here tell no lies.
We have patience, my brothers and I.
Time kills off all our enemies.
Let that Lawman ride.

Jesus was a good man, for a hippie.
Let us forever remember his name.
The devil may take us all in the end
But tonight we will eat his beef.
It's a long ride up that mountain, Big John,
And it's going to be a longer night.

Lost Hills...