(B. Leadon) Once I was young and so unsure. Tryin to heal, to find a cure. An old man told me, tried to scold me, "Whoa son, don't wade to deep in Bitter Creek."
Out where the desert meets the sky, Where I go when I wanna hide. Old peyote, old peyote, she tried to show me, "You know there ain't no cause to weep at Bitter Creek."
We're gonna hit the road one last time. We can walk right in and steal 'em blind. All that money, all that money, No more runnin, no more runnin. And I can't wait to see the old man's face when I win the race. Bitter Creek
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