SAN ANTONIO: Written simply to entertain the notion of using repeating blues lines, this is a simple tale of a scorned lover driving from New Orleans to San Antonio. Conjuring up images of a twenty something in a t-shirt with cigs rolled up in his sleeve driving a rusted gray-primer ‘69 Camaro with the windows down and the radio blasting, the guitars provide the driving intensity while a Hammond Organ with a Leslie adds heart.
I can feel the heat comin' off the road. I can feel the heat comin' off the road. I can barely see 'cause I'm so stoned. I can barely see 'cause I'm still stoned. Lost my baby down in New Orleans but I got my keys and these blue jeans. It's a long way down to San Antone when she's gone and you're drivin' alone. If you need a place to call your own, follow me down to San Antone. Mama told me I was born in the rain. Mama told me I was born in the rain. Mama told me I'd never feel pain, oh Lord yeah. Mama lied and told me there was no such thang. When I left her there she was standin' in the road, shakin' that ass. Her middle finger told me which way to go.