Capo 3
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I was born in South Central Texas
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In a town down along that Coastal Bend
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Where there's miles and miles of milo and cotton
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And that warm Matagorda wind
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And there's acres and acres of black dirt gumbo
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And a town that seemed to fall from the sky
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Where I was raised, down on the Coastal Plains
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Lives a town too tough to die
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Well you know it has some history, like most places do
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Once sacred to the ones that called it home
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Some came to till the soil, most to drill for oil
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That lay waiting down below that salt dome
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So they raised the wooden derricks and lowered steel pipe
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And they stayed until the last well ran dry
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Where I was raised, back in the glory days
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Of a town too tough to die
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And now it seems so different, after all this time
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Or maybe it's just me who has changed
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It's the same row of houses, it's that same general store
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And that same dead stretch of Main.
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It's that same restless feeling, on those same empty streets
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Where you and I, we used to ride
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It was where we spent our days, before we ran away
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And when everything is changed, that memory remains
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Of a town too tough to die
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