Answer
|
Desperado,
|
why
|
don't
|
you
|
come
|
to
|
your
|
senses?
|
You
|
been
|
out
|
ridin'
|
fences
|
for
|
so
|
long
|
now
|
Oh,
|
you're
|
a
|
hard
|
one
|
I
|
know
|
that
|
you
|
got
|
your
|
reasons
|
|
Answer
|
These
|
things
|
that
|
are
|
pleasin'
|
you
|
Can
|
hurt
|
you
|
somehow
|
Don't
|
you
|
draw
|
the
|
queen
|
of
|
diamonds,
|
boy
|
She'll
|
beat
|
you
|
if
|
she's
|
able
|
You
|
know
|
the
|
queen
|
of
|
|
Answer
|
hearts
|
is
|
always
|
your
|
best
|
bet
|
Now
|
it
|
seems
|
to
|
me,
|
some
|
fine
|
things
|
Have
|
been
|
laid
|
upon
|
your
|
table
|
But
|
you
|
only
|
want
|
the
|
ones
|
that
|
you
|
can't
|
|
Answer
|
get
|
Desperado,
|
you
|
ain't
|
gettin'
|
no
|
younger
|
Your
|
pain
|
and
|
your
|
hunger,
|
they're
|
driving
|
you
|
home
|
And
|
freedom,
|
oh
|
freedom
|
well,
|
that's
|
just
|
some
|
people
|
talkin'
|
Your
|
prison
|
is
|
|
Answer
|
walkin'
|
through
|
this
|
world
|
all
|
alone
|
Don't
|
your
|
feet
|
get
|
cold
|
in
|
the
|
winter
|
time?
|
The
|
sky
|
won't
|
snow
|
and
|
the
|
sun
|
won't
|
shine
|
It's
|
hard
|
to
|
tell
|
the
|
|
Answer
|
night
|
time
|
from
|
the
|
day
|
You're
|
losin'
|
all
|
your
|
highs
|
and
|
lows
|
Ain't
|
it
|
funny
|
how
|
the
|
feeling
|
goes
|
away?
|
Desperado,
|
why
|
don't
|
you
|
come
|
to
|
your
|
senses?
|
|
Answer
|
Come
|
down
|
from
|
your
|
fences,
|
open
|
the
|
gate
|
It
|
may
|
be
|
rainin',
|
but
|
there's
|
a
|
rainbow
|
above
|
you
|
You
|
better
|
let
|
somebody
|
love
|
you,
|
before
|
it's
|
too
|
late
|
|
(If this sounded accusatory or critical I apologise)