Red dirt road under heavy heat
Black rubber humming on the street
Wooden case with a rusted latch
Strike a spark from a sulfur match
Four thin strings and a bow of horse
Following a lonely northern course
Cactus spines in the golden glare
Dry salt wind in the desert air
Oh, let the copper line lead me home
Where the wild mesa spirits roam
I play a song for the open wide
With the ghosts of the road as my guide
Half-remembered hymns from a choir stall
Hanging low like a velvet shawl
Sanding down every jagged edge
Walking out on a canyon ledge
Oh, let the copper line lead me home
Where the wild mesa spirits roam
I play a song for the open wide
With the ghosts of the road as my guide
B3 organ in a low hum swell
Ringing out like a Sunday bell
Close my eyes till the world goes gray
Wait for the light of a brand new day
Silver coins in a velvet hat
Where the desert lizards lean and chat
One long note for the empty space
Tracing lines on a weathered face
Iron rails where the freight trains roll
Keeping time with a steady soul
Tuning low to the humming ground
Searching for a forgotten sound
Oh, let the copper line lead me home
Where the wild mesa spirits roam
I play a song for the open wide
With the ghosts of the road as my guide
Copper line, copper line.
Just a song on a copper line.
