Capo 3


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I was born in South Central Texas

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In a town down along that Coastal Bend

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Where there's miles and miles of milo and cotton

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And that warm Matagorda wind



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And there's acres and acres of black dirt gumbo

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And a town that seemed to fall from the sky

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Where I was raised, down on the Coastal Plains

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Lives a town too tough to die



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Well you know it has some history, like most places do

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Once sacred to the ones that called it home

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Some came to till the soil, most to drill for oil

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That lay waiting down below that salt dome



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So they raised the wooden derricks and lowered steel pipe

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And they stayed until the last well ran dry

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Where I was raised, back in the glory days

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Of a town too tough to die



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And now it seems so different, after all this time

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Or maybe it's just me who has changed

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It's the same row of houses, it's that same general store

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And that same dead stretch of Main.



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It's that same restless feeling, on those same empty streets

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Where you and I, we used to ride

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It was where we spent our days, before we ran away

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From a town too tough to die



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And when everything is changed, that memory remains

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Of a town too tough to die