Dirty July morning, clothes flapping on the line Flapping on the line, clothes flapping on the line Well, the cops sent out the warning, Phantom One has done his time One has done his time, Phantom One has done his time But that don't mean nothing to me, care less if he rots in his cell Cause I got a fuse of my own to burn while I stand in line to take my turn Waiting for the mail Well, I was promised a letter, at least a Japanese post card Japanese post card, Japanese post card And after all of these days I can count all the ways, ain't seen nothing like that so far Nothing like that so far, nothing like that so far And I wonder if she's in trouble, what kinda demons are on her trail But there ain't nothing I could do to change the changes she's been through While I been waiting for the mail Last night I dreamed about a motel near the border A dim light and a twenty dollar room Sweat poured from my brow as I laid there frozen I was wide awake and not a minute too soon Well, the buzzards fly up to the heavens, dog's sound asleep on the porch Sound asleep on the porch, dog's sound asleep on the porch And it's a year to the day since the fields burned away but I still carry this torch I still carry this torch, I still carry this torch And I'm feeling a little bit seasick but I still got one hand on the rail And one eye on the road, cause that's where my future will unfold While I'm waiting for the mail