Cigarettes are burning down to my fingers
in my motel, where the smell still lingers
from the night before...
with a ten dollar whore who didn't even know my name

the TV says nothing, nothing to me
and i feel so low in the highest degree
like a tree with no root, like a gun that don't shoot
like a dog outside on a chain

and theres no use for me to sit here an moan
many a man has been more alone
and i might feel better if i write a letter
if i write a letter home

yeah i heard the news bout' that ol gang of mine
they're all getting married, they're all doing fine
they're all getting older, and needin' a shoulder
that's easy to lean on...

but as for me, i'm half way to Denver
how long has it been? I just can't remember
it all starts to fade, cause' the life that i've made
is the life that i dream on...

and there's no use for me to sit here and moan
many a man has been more alone
and i might feel better if i write a letter
if i write a letter home

now i can't help but to be who i am
though i've let many women slip from my hands;
i've let them all go, why? i don't know,
it just made me feel like a man

but what i know now, though it may be too late
you've got to love someone and let go the weight
you've got to make do when you find love that's true
this now i understand...

and theres no use for me to sit here and moan
many a man has been more alone
but i might feel better if i write a letter
if i write a letter home
if i write a letter home