(1994)
Country tune that started as a nonsence tune jamming but got a new chance in 2026 with a written text to it
Country tune that started as a nonsence tune jamming but got a new chance in 2026 with a written text to it
Lyrics:
He used to wear a tie
And argue with the saints
In a courthouse on Main
With a smile that hid the stains
He knew every loophole
Every polished little lie
Now the bottle's is his life
Instead of the former wife
There's a notice in his coat
There's a crack in every plan
Waiting to hear his own name
From a county-cold, hard hand
He's running from his past
Running from the lost
A broken heart behind him
And the lawman he was
He keeps on moving west
With his sad story in a line
Punching out his life
On an old typewriter
At another motel sink
Cheap soap, shaking hands
Only debts in his coat pocket
A mark where the ring once was
He used to cross-examine
Now he counts the days
Every town he leaves behind him
Takes another piece away
There's a fingerprint of sorrow
On the keys beneath his thumb
He writes like he's confessing
To the things he's never done
He's running from his past
Running from the lost
A broken heart behind him
And the lawman he was
He keeps on moving west
With his story in a line
Punching out his life
On an old typewriter
The ribbon's almost gone now
The letters fade to gray
But every page he leaves behind
Still knows his name that way
If he ever stops to read it
He might not like the man
Still he types into the dark
As fast as his heart can
He's running from his past
Running from the lost
A broken heart behind him
And the lawman he was
He keeps on moving west
With his story in a line
Punching out his life
On an old typewriter
(On an old typewriter)
Punching out his truth
On an old typewriter
He used to wear a tie
And argue with the saints
In a courthouse on Main
With a smile that hid the stains
He knew every loophole
Every polished little lie
Now the bottle's is his life
Instead of the former wife
There's a notice in his coat
There's a crack in every plan
Waiting to hear his own name
From a county-cold, hard hand
He's running from his past
Running from the lost
A broken heart behind him
And the lawman he was
He keeps on moving west
With his sad story in a line
Punching out his life
On an old typewriter
At another motel sink
Cheap soap, shaking hands
Only debts in his coat pocket
A mark where the ring once was
He used to cross-examine
Now he counts the days
Every town he leaves behind him
Takes another piece away
There's a fingerprint of sorrow
On the keys beneath his thumb
He writes like he's confessing
To the things he's never done
He's running from his past
Running from the lost
A broken heart behind him
And the lawman he was
He keeps on moving west
With his story in a line
Punching out his life
On an old typewriter
The ribbon's almost gone now
The letters fade to gray
But every page he leaves behind
Still knows his name that way
If he ever stops to read it
He might not like the man
Still he types into the dark
As fast as his heart can
He's running from his past
Running from the lost
A broken heart behind him
And the lawman he was
He keeps on moving west
With his story in a line
Punching out his life
On an old typewriter
(On an old typewriter)
Punching out his truth
On an old typewriter