Cigarettes are burning down to my fingers in my motel, where the smell still lingers from the night before... with a ten dollar whore who didn't even know my name the TV says nothing, nothing to me and i feel so low in the highest degree like a tree with no root, like a gun that don't shoot like a dog outside on a chain and theres no use for me to sit here an moan many a man has been more alone and i might feel better if i write a letter if i write a letter home yeah i heard the news bout' that ol gang of mine they're all getting married, they're all doing fine they're all getting older, and needin' a shoulder that's easy to lean on... but as for me, i'm half way to Denver how long has it been? I just can't remember it all starts to fade, cause' the life that i've made is the life that i dream on... and there's no use for me to sit here and moan many a man has been more alone and i might feel better if i write a letter if i write a letter home now i can't help but to be who i am though i've let many women slip from my hands; i've let them all go, why? i don't know, it just made me feel like a man but what i know now, though it may be too late you've got to love someone and let go the weight you've got to make do when you find love that's true this now i understand... and theres no use for me to sit here and moan many a man has been more alone but i might feel better if i write a letter if i write a letter home if i write a letter home