The Messenger - Ray Wylie Hubbard

I’m wearing old boots with high Cuban heels

Our souls, they are worn and we stand here by grace

My trousers are torn, my jacket is borrowed

And I’m wearing my time behind the eyes in my face

And I’m not looking for loose diamonds

Or pretty girls with crosses 'round their necks

I don’t want four roses or water

I’m not looking for God, I’m not looking for sex

I’ve worn out my welcome in certain small circles

In Spanish bordellos and confederate states

But there is an angel in leathers and kindness

She whispers my name and she smiles at my fate

And I’m not looking for loose diamonds

Or pretty girls with crosses 'round their necks

I don’t want four roses or water

I’m not looking for God, I’m not looking for sex

And all the true believers are out on the road tonight

No matter what happens, you know they’ll be okay

And to the rock and roll gypsies, may the last song you sing

Be by Mr. Van Zandt when you’re down in old Santa Fe

Now I have a mission and a small code of honor:

To stand and deliver by whatever measures

And the message I give you, it’s by this old poet Rilke

He said «Our fears are like dragons guarding our most precious treasures»

And I’m not looking for loose diamonds

Or pretty girls with crosses 'round their necks

I don’t want four roses or water

I’m not looking for God, I’m just wonderin' what’s next