Michael Martin Murphey
Alleys of Austin (2018)
Out in the alleys of Austin
There's a song on the side of the wall
The bricks and the bottles and the mongrels
Are trying to make sense out of it all
And the moon looks all too familiar
The kids say "There ain't no man in there";
While the laid back baboon
By the light of the Texas moon
Is combing his auburn hair
He's just combing his auburn hair
Now out in the alleys of Heaven
There's a funky feeling angel strumming chords
While the preachers sit and get stoned in their Buicks
Jesus Christ rolls by in his Ford
And the clouds are like the feathers of sparrows
A thousand different colors of grey
It's the hustle of the paradise bar room
And the glory of hanging out in space
It's the glory of hanging out in space
In the alleys of Austin and Heaven
The song they're playing is the same
The jam sessions sound like the gutters
As the muddy licks and sticks roll down the drain
And the drainpipe she rolls out to the river
And the Pedernales flows out to the sea
And the sea waters rise up to Heaven
And rain down on the alleys of Austin
And you
And me