Run Conejo Run - Dave Alvin

The other kids called him Conejo 'cause he was fast on his feet

And he was quick with his fists if he had trouble in the streets

But when his old man would hit the bottle, he’d kick Conejo’s ass

So with a wounded heart Conejo swore he’d out run his past

Run Conejo Run

He boxed lightweight at the Olympic down in dirty old L. A

And he earned his Golden Gloves by putting sixteen fighters away

But the seventeenth one nailed him and blinded his left eye

So with busted fingers and a battered brain, he kissed the ring goodbye

Run Conejo Run, Run Conejo Run

Run through the dark night to the rising sun

Run Conejo Run

He was singing in a barroom on the night that we crossed paths

We’d known each other all our lives but finally met at last

Then we ran these highways twenty years fueled by beer and nicotine

From New York to Nogales and every joint in between

Run Conejo Run

He told me his life story, his joys and his regrets

From the hot streets of Tucson to a cold prison in Quebec

From his ex-wives and old lovers and the promises they believed

To the daughter in Louisiana that he never wanted to leave

Run Conejo Run

Run Conejo Run, Run Conejo Run

Run through the dark night to the rising sun

Run Conejo Run

Well, it’s three hours past midnight and I’m driving Interstate Ten

A hundred miles out of El Paso and I’m thinking of my old friend

I know that I can’t see you but I can feel you by my side

So, light up a cig, Conejo, and let’s go for another ride

Run Conejo Run

Run Conejo Run, Run Conejo Run

Run through the dark night to the rising sun

Run Conejo Run