Sold American
Written by Kinky Friedman

Faded jaded, fallen, cowboy star.
Pawnshop's itchin' for your old guitar.
Where you're going, may no body know.
The sequins have fallen from your clothes.
Once you heard the Opry crowds applause,
but now you're hangin' out at Fourth and Claude.
On the rains swept sidewalks rememberin' the time,
when coffee with a friend was just a dime.

Everything's been sold American,
the early times are finished and the want ads have all been read.
Everyone's been sold American,
been dreaming dreams in a, roll away bed.

Writing down your memiors on some window in the frost.
Drooling eyes reflecting, another morning lost.
Hauled in by the metro for killing time and pain.
With the breakman's singin' screamin' through your vains.
Everything's been sold American,
early times are longing for the death that never dies
Everyone's been sold American,
don't let me catch you laughing when the jukebox cries.

You told me you were born so much, higher than life,
but I've seen the faded pictures of your children and wife.
Now they're thumbing through your wallet,
just trying to find a name.
It's almost as if they raised the price of fame.

Everything's been sold American,
no place to go and brother, no place to stay.
Everyone's been sold American,
just let that golden grayhound roll your soul away.
Everyone's been sold American,
just let that golden grayhound roll your soul away.