Текст: Bleu Edmonson. Lost Boy. American Saint.

The Concho Valley is on fire tonight
It's spilling out into the streets
The blessed scream of a newborn dream
Making love in my backseat
All of us together in the glow of the dusty headlights
All the little pretties with the stars in their hair
Sipping Titos and Crystal Light

It's another round of sound checks and train wrecks
The lost boys and the rejects
Fallen angels dancing to the music drifting softly on the Southern wind
Talking like the heroes that we wont be
Spittin out the game that little Jimmy sold me
Fighting for each other though it seems like we'll never win
American Saint
American Saint

Now Philly Joe lives west of Alice
The hippy prince of the wild
He got pinched for possession in a real hard land
But he never lost his style
He still works the rigs, 6 months out of the year
Old Crow fever, a story to tell, and a menthol behind his ear

It's another round of sound checks and train wrecks
The lost boys and the rejects
Fallen angels dancing to the music drifting softly on the Southern wind
Talking like the heroes that we wont be
Spittin out the game that little Jimmy sold me
Fighting for each other though it seems like we'll never win
American Saint
American Saint

Now Im north of Waxahachie
Wondering where I go from here
The Baptists say, if I don't change
Then I won't see next year

It's another round of sound checks and train wrecks
The lost boys and the rejects
Fallen angels dancing to the music drifting softly on the Southern wind
Talking like the heroes that we wont be
Spittin out the game that little Jimmy sold me
Fighting for each other though it seems like we'll never win
American Saint
American Saint