Guy Clark Black Haired Boy

He's a black haired boy of some confusion And he makes no excuse for the things that he's usin' He's gentle and wild and a child of the mountain His words are for singing and his days are for countin' He's looking for a home he's scared to find Some lady beside him and he's drunk on white wine Some lady beside him and he's drunk on white wine He's a devil in the morning and a saviour at night Tomorrow's a case of whatever's right Lonesome and high are the things that he feels And the cards that he plays are the ones that he deals He's looking for a home... He's one of the chances you're entitled to take He's one of the hearts that it's too late to break I've seen him be sad and never know why Seen him fall down to laugh seen him stand up to cry He's looking for a home... He's looking for a home...