THE ANGEL OF GOLIAD
Some days I remember, some days I forget
every notch on my pistol, and not one damn regret.
Oh, but I've come a long way from the old dreams I had.
Thank God for the whiskey and the Angel of Goliad.
We were meant to be martyrs in a war of ideals,
but now all is peaceful in the forts and the fields
except when the night winds blow lonesome and sad.
Thank God for the whiskey and the Angel of Goliad.
Sometimes I hear hoof beats out there in the dark
like old Santa Anna ridin' in from New York,
oh, and I curse the bastard; people think I've gone mad.
Thank God for the whiskey and the Angel of Goliad.
Now I'm just an old man and my best days are gone.
Nobody knows me and it's time to move on.
This whole world is changin' for good and for bad.
Thank God for the whiskey and the Angel of Goliad.
Some days I remember, some days...I forget.
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