I see San Antonio burningnThrough the barred station windownI see angels on boats beating trumpets of goldnIn the sky above the old rodeonnAs I roll off my prison matressnAnd I drink from the station house inknI can see that blotter in the waternWith my name bleeding newspaper inknnShe was long white legs and diamondsnI was a Long Island lawyer in blacknI should have known as we walked through the World's FairnThat she'd die with a knife in the backnnDoc, O doc, I need my morphinenAs the guard drags his keys across the barsnI can see Mr. Pain beyond the window framenIn empty golden hills beyond the starsnnI see San Antonio burningnThrough the barred station windownI see angels on boats beating trumpets of goldnIn the sky above the old rodeo