My name is James Lucas
I was born in Remington
And paroled from Richfield Prison
In the winter of '81
I was free and on the streets of Indiana
I'd just turned 32
Same man with nowhere left to run
No different, sir, than you
Me and Pat, we married in the spring
Moved in with her Ma and Pa
On our wedding night she sighed, "Jimmy
We can have anything we want"
It was for those things we wanted
We worked as hard as two people could
But somehow in the end, mister
This didn't do no good
The prison got me drivin' delivery
For Mr. Wills over in Ridgeside
Well, I started loadin' a little extra
And I'd sell it on the side
I didn't like what I was doin'
I didn't lose no sleep at night
Mr. Wills, he was a rich man
He'd been a rich man all his life
I was on the loadin' dock one evening
When I heard the warehouse phone
The dispatcher said, "Jim, they wanna see you
In the front office 'fore you go home"
All Mr. Wills said was, "I don't understand
I could send you back to Richfield fast
If you needed some extra money, Jim
All you had to do was ask"
Well, that night me and Pat, we had a fight
I was out drivin' 'round in the rain
With a fifth of gin and a half-tank of gas
And ten dollars to my name
I passed a deserted liquor store
Way out on Highway One
I turned and pulled into that parking lot
Got out but I let my motor run
Well, I stood lookin' in the window
For a long, long while
When I walked in the man behind the register
He looked at me and smiled
"That's some weather we're havin' out there
Can I help you find somethin', friend?"
I didn't answer, I just stood there
Then I turned and went away
I don't know how long I sat in my driveway
My shirt was covered in sweat
The house was dark when I went in
Pat was lyin' awake in bed
She hit the light, I was standin' in the doorway
She said, "I was worried, where you been so long?"
I felt her arms around me
She said, "Jimmy, I'm so glad you're home"
I was born in Remington
And paroled from Richfield Prison
In the winter of '81
I was free and on the streets of Indiana
I'd just turned 32
Same man with nowhere left to run
No different, sir, than you
Me and Pat, we married in the spring
Moved in with her Ma and Pa
On our wedding night she sighed, "Jimmy
We can have anything we want"
It was for those things we wanted
We worked as hard as two people could
But somehow in the end, mister
This didn't do no good
The prison got me drivin' delivery
For Mr. Wills over in Ridgeside
Well, I started loadin' a little extra
And I'd sell it on the side
I didn't like what I was doin'
I didn't lose no sleep at night
Mr. Wills, he was a rich man
He'd been a rich man all his life
I was on the loadin' dock one evening
When I heard the warehouse phone
The dispatcher said, "Jim, they wanna see you
In the front office 'fore you go home"
All Mr. Wills said was, "I don't understand
I could send you back to Richfield fast
If you needed some extra money, Jim
All you had to do was ask"
Well, that night me and Pat, we had a fight
I was out drivin' 'round in the rain
With a fifth of gin and a half-tank of gas
And ten dollars to my name
I passed a deserted liquor store
Way out on Highway One
I turned and pulled into that parking lot
Got out but I let my motor run
Well, I stood lookin' in the window
For a long, long while
When I walked in the man behind the register
He looked at me and smiled
"That's some weather we're havin' out there
Can I help you find somethin', friend?"
I didn't answer, I just stood there
Then I turned and went away
I don't know how long I sat in my driveway
My shirt was covered in sweat
The house was dark when I went in
Pat was lyin' awake in bed
She hit the light, I was standin' in the doorway
She said, "I was worried, where you been so long?"
I felt her arms around me
She said, "Jimmy, I'm so glad you're home"
Richfield Prison stands on a high hill
Where the county line runs out
And there's a whistle that blows
Where the county line runs out
And there's a whistle that blows
Every time a man comes in
Or a man gets out
At night we lay wrapped in each other's arms
Listenin' to the rain
I heard thatRichfield
Just blowin' in my dreams
Or a man gets out
At night we lay wrapped in each other's arms
Listenin' to the rain
I heard that
Just blowin' in my dreams
SILBATO DE RICHFIELD
Me llamo James Lucas
Nací en Remington
Salí en libertad condicional de la prisión de Richfield
En el invierno del ‘81
Era libre y sobre las calles de Indiana
Cumplí los 32
El mismo hombre sin lugar adónde huir
No diferente, señor, de usted
Pat y yo nos casamos en primavera
Nos mudamos con sus padres
En nuestra noche de bodas susurró: “Jimmy
Podemos tener lo que queramos”
Y por aquellas cosas que queríamos
Trabajamos tan duro como podían dos personas
Pero de alguna forma, al final
Aquello no fue suficiente
Hacía de repartidor para la prisión
Para Mr. Wills cerca de Ridgeside
Empecé cargando un poco de más
Y lo vendía por el camino
No me gustaba lo que hacía
No conciliaba el sueño por la noche
Mr. Wills era un hombre rico
Había sido rico toda su vida
Estaba en el muelle de carga una tarde
Cuando oí el teléfono del almacén
El encargado dijo: “Jimmy, quieren verte
En la oficina antes de marcharte a casa”
Lo único que dijo Mr. Wills fue: “No lo entiendo
Podría enviarte enseguida a Richfield de vuelta
Si necesitabas más dinero, Jim
Sólo tenías que pedirlo”
Aquella noche, Pat y yo nos discutimos
Salí a conducir bajo la lluvia
Con una botella de ginebra y medio bidón de gasolina
Y diez dólares a mi nombre
Me paré en una tienda de licores desierta
Al salir de la autopista Uno
Giré y me metí en aquel aparcamiento
Me bajé, pero sin parar el motor
Estuve observando por la ventana
Durante mucho tiempo
Cuando entré el hombre tras la caja registradora
Miró hacia mí y sonrió
“Vaya tiempo que tenemos por aquí
¿Puedo ayudarle en algo, amigo?”
No respondí, sólo me quedé allí
Luego di la vuelta y me marché
No sé cuanto tiempo estuve sentado al volante
Mi camisa se empapó de sudor
La casa estaba oscura cuando entré
Pat esperaba despierta en la cama
Encendió la luz al verme de pie ante el portal
Dijo: “Estaba preocupada, ¿adónde fuiste tanto tiempo?”
Sentí sus brazos a mi alrededor
Dijo: “Jimmy, me alegro de que estés en casa”
La prisión de Richfield se alza sobre una colina
Donde acaba la frontera del condado
Y hay un silbato que suena
Cada vez que un hombre entra
O que un hombre sale
De noche dormimos envueltos en los brazos del otro
Escuchando la lluvia
Y oigo aquel silbato de Richfield sonando
Sin dejar de sonar en mis sueños
Un gran outtake de Nebraska/Born In The USA de 1982-1983. El inesperado final recuerda en cierto modo al de Galveston Bay. Aparecido en la serie The Lost Masters.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario