The other kids called him Conejo cause he was fast on his feet And he was quick with his fists if he had trouble in the streets But when his old man would hit the bottle, hed kick Conejos ass So with a wounded heart Conejo swore hed out run his past Run Conejo Run He boxed lightweight at the Olympic down in dirty old L.A And he earned his Golden Gloves by putting sixteen fighters away But the seventeenth one nailed him and blinded his left eye So with busted fingers and a battered brain, he kissed the ring goodbye Run Conejo Run, Run Conejo Run Run through the dark night to the rising sun Run Conejo Run He was singing in a barroom on the night that we crossed paths Wed known each other all our lives but finally met at last Then we ran these highways twenty years fueled by beer and nicotine From New York to Nogales and every joint in between Run Conejo Run He told me his life story, his joys and his regrets From the hot streets of Tucson to a cold prison in Quebec From his exwives and old lovers and the promises they believed To the daughter in Louisiana that he never wanted to leave Run Conejo Run Run Conejo Run, Run Conejo Run Run through the dark night to the rising sun Run Conejo Run Well, its three hours past midnight and Im driving Interstate Ten A hundred miles out of El Paso and Im thinking of my old friend I know that I cant see you but I can feel you by my side So, light up a cig, Conejo, and lets go for another ride Run Conejo Run Run Conejo Run, Run Conejo Run Run through the dark night to the rising sun Run Conejo Run
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