Song Description

This is the song Greil Marcus described as "the indelible little number 'The Beauty in Her Face,' which goes as far into the mind of a killer as anyone needs to. You know how it s going to end before the first verse does, and you spend the rest of the song trying to make it come out differently."

Lyrics

It was a dark, dusty road in west Texas where a young cowboy thumbed down a ride.
Got in the truck with a suitcase and a fiddle and a bag he kept by his side.
The farmer could see that this young man was broken by the thunder that pealed in his mind,
So he offered his bottle of tequila and tuned the radio to see what he could find.
By-and-by, the young man grew a bit more social, concealing the worries in his head.
Said he didn?t care for the mariachi on the radio: would he mind if he tuned something else instead?
The moon was new, the night was black as a Bible. The radio glowed upon his face.
He grew still as fiddled with the dial, tuning signals that came from outer space.

Adjusting the mirror the better to regard him, the farmer asked how far he planned to go.
The cowboy asked if he would take him across the border, and after that he really didn?t know.
The farmer said: Hijo, I can see that you are troubled by things that I don?t think you can outrun.
But I will take you far across the border if you use my ears and tell me what you?ve done.
Then he took another pull from the bottle while the truth searched for words on which to ride.
He said: I fell in love with a girl who played the fiddle and the way she held the bow within her hand.
But my heart was broken by a promise she had given to a luckier man.

Before I could go I just knew I had to find her and take with me the memory of her face.
The night was starless as I stood before the lady, tuned in signals that came from outer space.
No one could find her on the day she was to marry, and they left the church fearful of the cause.
The next day someone found a woman?s body, but no one could be sure just who she was.
Sometimes when I?m dialing on the radio I think I hear a fiddle start to play.
But I can never tune in the signal, and I never hear what she?s trying to say.

The farmer said: Hijo, I don?t think that you will find her, and this journey will only lead your way to Hell.
You must go back and stand upon the gallows ? I reckon that?s what the signal?s trying to tell.
The police stopped them as they tried to cross at Roma, and he nodded when they read him his rights.
In the truck he left the suitcase and the fiddle and the bag he?d kept by his side.
The farmer took the bag and he looked there inside it and was struck by the beauty in her face.
In the dark with all the sorrow and the horror and the signals that came from outer space.