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Bakersfield
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Son Volt
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What do you want? Where do you find it? You can call it what you will The sound of heartbreak from a jail cell Finding work in bar all nights Jukebox letters and numbers The burning hearts and starving minds Souls in pain as if I’m punishment The ways and needs to survive There’s a passion that’s put on the line Money to burn and fortunes to find Without a claim, without a stake I’m living only for today There will be starts, there will be stumbles Our tongue out on the line to dry And a piece from wagers of working And hell breaks loose on Saturday night Aren’t you happy? The least it’s living Freedom to choose to stay down Always a wild wind blowing Just want a guitar and a radio In the fields of the valley The sweet and toil along with the land No cup of gold, no candy mountain What better place to make a stand?
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