Does the wind still blow In New Mexico?
Do the silver candelabras yet shine?
Is Kathrine still the queen of El Paso?
Never to be yours, never to be mine.
Out of reach like the pale moon that shines
On the road to Las Cruces.
On a high plateau, out of San Antone she goes,
I see the dust of a herd moving through.
The dream and the lights softly fading,
The horses will not stay, they wish to go with her.
Riding for Alex Corone, on the road to Las Vegas.
The line of desire, seven strands of barbed wire,
Will hold back the on rushing tide.
Many dreams have been brought to the border,
Down in the canyons, down in the culverts.
They pray for safe passage tonight,
On the trail to Albuquerque.
I crossed over a toll, I stood there alone,
Looking into the heart of the night.
Across that dark plain to El Paso,
Where Kathrine sleeps, Kathrine dreams.
Out of reach like the pale moon that shines,
On the road to Las Cruces.