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Nevada Poor

Written around 1976

Here they come up from the river,
Empty pockets and sad young men;
Dusty and dirty and broken down,
No gold in that damned old river again.

I wait for the men after sundown,
In the bar where they all drink and eat;
They come up my stairs for a woman’s love,
On that dusty mining camp street.


And who’s gonna be the one tonight
That I’m gonna hold tight behind the door;
And if your poker game ain’t been goin’ right
Put an IOU in the drawer,
We’ve been through this before,
Nevada poor.

I can’t remember how long I’ve been here,
Since I first left New Orleans;
I was gonna be a singer and a showgirl
With my suitcase full of dresses and dreams.

I wish I could fall in love with one,
But with these miners, it’s hit and miss;
I should go to see my sister in Reno,
But I’d never let her see me like this.


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