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Pancho Villa Doesn't Live There Anymore

from My Better Angels by Richard Thorne

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about

A folk ballad of sorts . Going for a simple live sound .

lyrics

There’s a small hotel in Mexico City
Where the locals take refuge for the night .
Where the whores and the hustlers carouse in the hallways ,
Asking a stranger for a light .
He mumbles “ lo siento, I never did smoke”
As he fumbles with the key to his room .
And the old hotel bellhop is asleep in the corner .
Propped up by his corn stalk broom.
And their spirits are as dim as the lights in the hall.
And as worn as the carpet on the floor
And their dreams are as distant as a failed revolution,
And Pancho Villa doesn’t live there anymore .

In the cantina below, the tequila is flowing.
Spent limes litter the floor.
And the bottles of beer are lined up on the bar top,
Like toy soldiers marching off to war.
The air is rancid and filled with smoke
As a dog begs at his feet .
He looks down in pity at that skin bones.
A fellow scavenger off of the streets.
Then the lights go out ,and panic ensues ,
As they wonder if the power will be restored .
Then a match is lit and there is an apparition ,
Of Pancho Villa , who doesn’t live there anymore .

He stumbles through the streets of Mexico City ,
Wreaking of beer and gin
Cursing out loud the ghostly assassins,
Who committed the original sin.
And the crowds stream by in a blur of compassion,
As he struggles to avoid their eyes .
And his heart is heavy as he thinks of the suffering,
And of the wretched , and he cries .
As he wiped his tears with the stained soaked sleeve ,
Of the only shirt he wore .
He sees in the faces of the children around him .
Pancho Villa who doesn’t live there anymore .

Like an old movie reel, his life passed before him .
With edited cuts on the floor .
As he listlessly lay on his bed in an stupor,
Like a body washed up on shore
And the characters danced around in his head.
Lively scenes from long ago tales.
When his words unfurled like waves on pages,
And talented winds filled his sails.
Then he wondered if the hustler, who just had robbed him,
Had bothered to close the door.
And his dreams were as distant as a failed revolution
And Pancho Villa doesn’t live there anymore .

credits

from My Better Angels, released September 9, 2014
RT Vocals and guiar
John Dancks on upright bass

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Richard Thorne New York, New York

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