Here lies a road agent dead on a hill
Sing on, sing on, whip a will if you will
He lived and died by his gun Rise up,
rise up,
morning sun
Rise up, son of God
Rise up from the sod
Money,
catch,
penny,
fly by night All are equal in his sight
Gone today and here tomorrow California desert to the veil of sorrow
Rise up,
son of God
Rise up from the low
Thunderbolts call,
the flash floods roll On a glory hole,
soul story seldom told
From a feast of whiskey and a flow of cash To
a silver black cash from a dance hall flash
Rise up,
son of change
Rise up,
son and dance
Here lies a road agent dead on a hill
Sing on,
sing on,
whip a will if you will