I've lived upon the edge of chance for twenty years or more And this is what my friends all mean By Del Rio's song, oh Del Rio, Del Rio's song, oh Del Rio, Del Rio's song, oh Del Rio, Del Rio's song, oh Del Rio When time gets slow and rivers freeze I think you know enough To come and touch that outer frame, the inner game A sullen gulch which opens up on the way to blind man's bluff A southern now of river roads where quandary and sublime improve A sight whose imagery is sometimes that of fear I've lived upon the edge of chance for twenty years or more And this is what my friends all mean By Del Rio's song, oh Del Rio, Del Rio's song, oh Del Rio, Del Rio's song, oh Del Rio, Del Rio's song, oh Del Rio When time gets slow and rivers freeze I think you know enough To shut the gates of walled town walls and putting up some good front punch Forget the way to blind man's bluff So packed with eyes that glow like coals and pointing toward the north My boat left New Orleans in 1829 Hey! Hey! Hey! My destination's secret and the doctrine soft But just between the verse and me It's a place where you can see lost, last, and luminous Scored the sky yet never found Relics of jewels and antrag tools A true ghost dance, rehearsal ground Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh I've lived upon the edge of chance for twenty years or more And this is what my friends all mean Yeah, cause I've lived upon the edge of chance for twenty years or more And this is what my friends all mean By the real song Oh, ah, ah The real song Oh, ah, ah The real song Oh, ah, ah The real song Oh, ah, ah The real, the real, the real song The real song Oh, ah, ah The real, the real, the real song From the real world The real song Oh, ah, ah The real song Oh, ah, ah The real Oh, ah, ah Oh, ah, ah Oh, ah, ah The Real Song