Tekst:
Poco Last Roundup

I lived in no holy house but the Grand Hotel The back streets of this old town, I know so well And I drunk of no holy wine, save muscatel Now my friend

Well, it won't be long now until that old sun goes down And darkness helps me hide my shameful tears My wife works all night long for a man who's halfway

Whippoorwill's singing On a soft summer breeze Makes me think of my baby I left down in New Orleans I left down in New Orleans Magnolia, you sweet thing

You and I counting, desert stars and Lovers, one by one While mandolins and steel guitars Help our love along Who could show you, ever know you Fall

As the moon goes fading He lies awake waiting For a break in the night When he makes, he's lonely flight And it's the same old story Somebody bound for