Run Conejo Run

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