He got the high sign so he jumped a bus
 
 and along the roads that wind on through
 
 the hot mojave and the jericho / he'd start his whole life anew
 
 and what he'd left behind he hadn't valued
 
 half as much as some things he never knew
 
 he got dropped off on a street in town
 
 where a grey old man looked him up and down and said,
 
 "son this ain't no western movie matinee
 
 and you're a long way off from yippee yi yay
 
 'cause i can tell at a glance you're not from 'round these parts.
 
 got a green look about ya, and that's a gringo for starts
 
 sometimes the only things a western savage understands
 
 are whiskey and rifles and an unarmed man like you."
 
  
  and then the old-timer pulled him close and said,
 
 "you've come a long way, i know, you got a longer drive ahead
 
 through the bones of a buffalo, through the claims of the western dead
 
 and just like the spokes of a wheel you'll spin 'round with the rest,
 
 you'll hear the drums and the brush of steel,
 
 you'll hear the call of the west." / call of the west
 
 you'll hear the call of the west / call of the west
  
 
 (the conflict:) harshly awakened by the sound of six rounds of light
 
 caliber rifle fire followed minutes later by the booming of nine rounds
 
 from a heavier rifle, but you can't close off the wilderness. he heard
 
 the snick of a rifle bolt and found himself staring down the muzzle of a
 
 weapon held by a drunken liquor store owner. "there's a conflict," he
 
 said. "there's a conflict between land and people...the people have to
 
 go. they've come all the way out here to make mining claims, to do
 
 automobile body work, to gamble, to take pictures, to not have to do
 
 laundry, to own a mini-bike, to have their own cb radios and air
 
 conditioning, good plumbing for sure, and to sell time/life books and to
 
 work in a deli, to have some chili every morning and maybe...maybe to own
 
 their own gas stations again and to take drugs and have some crazy sex,
 
 but above all, above all to have a fair shake, to get a piece of the rock
 
 and a slice of the pie and to spit out the window of your car and not
 
 have the wind blow it back in your face."
  
 
 now from the high timber lines to the deserts dry
 
 who'll risk dangling on some hangman's tree?
 
 to stake their claims on these prairie plains
 
 while they say this lunch is not had for free?
 
 just like the spokes of a wheel who'll spin 'round with the rest?
 
 they'll hear the drums and the brush of steel
 
 and i'll hear the call of the west / call of the west
 
 i'll hear the call of the west / call of the west
  
 
 ("i used to be somebody! i used to be somebody, do you hear me? do you
 
 hear me? i...i've been there! i used to be somebody, goddamn you! i've
 
 been there before! don't walk away!")