poetry, texas

dallas in the mirror.
winter morning, cold as hell.
me and my six string,
no one else.

collar to the wind,
future in the breeze.
hardly seems that far away,
you know what i mean.

highway 59
drove just like a dream.
asphalt tops, yellow lines
still call me...

post office box, poetry, texas


wandering and working,
living off the cuff.
some things never change
i can't get enough.

the train's in kansas city.
new york's a parking lot.
you can tell where i am
by where i'm not.

post office box, poetry, texas.
  

all through my days

you were ruled by the southern sky.
it made you trade
your world for another style.
the way you slipped
through the streets of my city,
you were a melody.

you're a one time part wife
with those first time
young girl eyes,
and you've been mesmerized.
there's no good place
for your heart to hide.

chorus
all through my days,
all over my nights,
i never dreamed it could be so simple.

young mandy she came in the afternoon.
took me down so low
that i could not croon.
then again, i never
felt that i needed to.

you are delight in my eyes.
you are the blue in my skies.
and i have been mesmerized.
there's no good place
for this heart to hide.

chorus

dream on true with your fairy tale.
it might last till tomorrow
but you never can tell.
one love could last forever.

don't be ashamed to play this game.
follow up your heart when he calls your name.
because he's calling out to you,
you know every word is true.

chorus
chorus

100 miles from mexico

a hundred miles from mexico,
me and my amigo, the coral orange moon.
dark so black poets don't go.
ol' fateful, willin' who i am on a fateful,
winding stretch of road

one hundred miles from mexico,
the moon, the music, and me.


a hundred miles from mexico,
backing down this highway,
thumbing at the headlights.
gravel shoulder, devil's backbone.
before the headlights become the dawn
me and my amigo will be gone.

one hundred miles from mexico,
the moon, the music, and me.

before the headlights become the dawn
me and my amigo will be gone.
  

the fair

stopped by to say hello
to someone i used to know.
didn't have the change to call,
took the liberty to drop on by...
unannounced.

so, through some strangers'
kitchen screen,
the same old neighborhood.

yesterdays follow me
up and down familiar streets
in my heart.
big buildings scrape the sky,
recalling you and i

when i look at them, now.
on the bayou winding downtown,
memories drift by.

we lived well, didn't we?
bicycle royalty,
poor as mice,
but we owned this town.
we called the shots.
we made the rules.
spaghetti bars
were our music schools.

but, there's no one left to tell.
the faces have all changed
from the bad old days,
bad old days, bad old days.

2nd street

the weary work for food
out in the lone star state.
talking in tongues about tropical girls,
down on 2nd street.

where the living is hard.


longer horns on that mercedes benz
might you never see.
well-heeled texana never tarries
down on 2nd street.

where the living is hard.


austin, texas by the lake,
rich kids ski, legislators drink.
they huddle close against the cold,
down on 2nd street.

the dying's easy, but the living is hard.
tie a knot in that rope, hold on tight...

best is yet to come

southbound on the roof of the world.
the outskirts of heaven
look good on her.
out the window coach class clouds.
trekking to texas,
a few thousand feet off the ground.


southbound, free as the birds.
me and townes,
down in houston.
way out west where we're from.
don't look now, cowgirl,
the best is yet to come.


southbound on the roof of the world.
the outskirts of heaven
look cool on her.
the boys turned out to be sultans of strum.
don't look now, cowgirl,
the best is yet to come.

have not, will travel

i come from hell
just to find
among the tumbleweeds
the best of times,
he worst of times.
it was either them,
or me.

i come from hell
just to find
this curbside circus
and frankenstein?
she's a friend of mine.
she was a damsel in distress
when she lived around me.

out of the dreadful reign of night
comes a rider...
from out of nowhere, from out of sight
like drumfire...
out of the shadows into the light.

i come from hell
just to find
peace of mind here.
have not, will travel.
i come to play
music louder
than any wind has ever blown.

out of the dreadful reign of night
rides a loner...
from out of nowhere, from out of sight
like thunder...
out of the shadows into the light.

place to call our own

on the edge of space/time,
on the edge of now,
clinging to a stone
on a planet near a star.
chemical reactions
bubbling in a tide pool.
barnacles of buildings,
like a civilization.
here inside my window
i can show you how,
you will...see how...it will...be.
you and me scavenging the galaxy
for a place to call our own.

careening like a pin ball
in the here and now.
out with the old.
in with the new.
my shadow laying lengthwise,
whispering to itself,
another endless sunset
without you.
here inside my window
look into my eyes,
you will...see how...it will...be.
you and me scavenging the galaxy
for a place to call our own.

last dance at the last chance

it was the last dance
at the last chance
on that rough and dusty road.
lotsa moon sky,
lotsa wide eye among the crowd.
lotsa cowboy touching cowgirl,
lotsa floating on the floor,
people whirling
texas waltz, fly on by.

here the old shoe
is on the other foot,
the slow nag is in the lead.
young bucks giving nervous looks
find their hearts fallen to their knees.

'cause they can see that one true love.
though the morning may bring them
a whole different story,
they'll be married to the memory
of the last dance at the last chance.

from the window in the hotel
you can hear the music move.
through the shade trees
and the low hills in the night.
lotsa warm mist on the lowlands,
lotsa semis on the road,
people whirling
texas waltz, fly on by.

here the sluefoot can wear
his dancing shoes.
the old man can charm his wife.
the forgotten can be happy news
and tired eyes can stand the light.

for Don and Lynne Morris


PRODUCED BY ROBIN EATON

Paladin Records

Engineered and Mixed
by Elijah Shaw

Recorded and mixed at
Alex The Great Recording
Nashville, TN

Mastered
by James DeMain
Nashville, TN

The photograph on the front cover
is of my great-grandparents, Emily Louise and William Strickland, circa 1940s. They sold gas and feed, flour and cold drinks, and anything else anyone needed from their general store
on Highway 67, outside of Red Water, Texas.

Art Direction and Design:
Vince Bell and Oasis CD