Well, I grew up in a little town.
You wouldn't find much if you looked around.
But that town's worn my family name
For a hundred, fifty years since the white folks came.
Six generations of the ranching man
And a hundred-thousand acres of Texas land.
Daddy told me it would all me mine,
The only boy left when my brothers died.
Oh, Socorro Wind, you hurried up my leaving,
Stirring me to leave my home behind.
Well, I couldn't shake the urge to run
Or break the curse of the Prodigal Son,
So I saddled up and left one night.
Didn't leave word, didn't say goodbye.
When I lit out for San Antone
My heart was full and my fear was gone,
Then I made my way down to the sea,
Full of fire and feelin' free.
Oh, Socorro Wind, you hurried up my leaving,
Stirring me to leave my home behind.
I rambled a while in Mexico.
I wanted to stay, but they made me go.
In Argentina I learned to dance
And I learned the way of the Gaucho's hand.
Well, I learned women and I learned about guns
And I spared no cares to have my fun,
But my heart grew tired of being alone
And my thoughts began to turn back home.
Oh, Socorro Wind, you hurried up my leaving,
Stirring me to leave my home behind.
Got no excuses or explanations,
No tragedies or broken dreams or ghosts from the past
But that wind stirs a young man's need for freedom
And I couldn't see I had it all the time.
One day I got word from home;
My ma was sick and my pa was gone.
When I got back nothing was the same,
No, the fence was down and the name had changed.
Now the southwest wind blows hot and dry,
And there ain't a cloud in the desert sky.
Nothing left but the open road
And now I've got nowhere to go.
Oh, Socorro Wind, you hurried up my leaving,
Stirring me to leave my home;
Oh, Socorro Wind, you hurried up my leaving,
Stirring me to leave my home behind.
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