Bakersfield

What do you want? Where will you find it?
You can call it what you will
The sound of heartbreak from a jail cell
Blinding work in bar in nights
Jukebox letters and numbers
The burning hearts and starving minds
Souls in pain as if from punishment
The ways and means to survive

There's a passion that's put on the line
Money to burn and fortunes to find
Without a claim, without a stake
I'm living only for today

There will be starts, there will be stumbles
Hearts hung out on the line to dry
And a piece from wages of working
But hell breaks loose on Saturday night
[??] at least it's living
Freedom to choose to stay or go
Always a wild wind blowing
Just want a guitar and a radio

In the fields of the valley
The sweat and toil one with the land
No cup of gold, no candy mountain
What better place to make a stand?