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ME AND COUNTRY’S LEGENDS OF FOREVER

Do I wake to you or the cosmos?
Do I wake to singing birds chirping as if there’s a fire?
or a chorus of you Ain’t Nothing But A Hound Dog
sung by Big Mama Thornton.

Do I wake myself rejoicing that the day is mine
or do I wake up to my own voice telling me today’ll be alright?
Hell no, I wake up to bill collector’s on my front door
and Jehovah witnesses at the back door selling me Jesus

But I get up and greet them all with a smile
cause that’s the kind of a guy I am
after I dispose of ‘em with my charm, I have beer for breakfast
and I sing Kristofferson’s/Cash’s song to greet the morning

“Sunday Morning Coming Down”
Cause that’s the kind of guy I am

The phone rings and it’s my AA counselor
“No, sir, no liquor has passed these virgin lips of mine,” I say.
“Yes sir, Tuesday I’ll see you there…for sure.”
Then I go and get another beer for old time’s sake

I sit on my holey leather couch and take a swig, after some TV
I follow Kris’ and John’s lead
 and grab my cleanest t-shirt
with the words A Lone Star and Some Weed 

Drives My Loneliness Away

These country troubadours sing ‘bout coal mines, hot sun and unrequited love
I don’t know much ‘bout coal mines or love
but I know Corpus Christi’s heat in summer.
nothing much I don’t know ‘bout’ Corpus’ heat in summer

I could write a song about it

I grew up there and never left Corpus’ bay
Southern winds hit my little town like a gifted fart
those winds waft in from the oil fields 
and hit you square snack in the face

All the while Willie’s always happy singing “On the Road Again”

Getting mellow  sucking on a chub but he never misses a beat or a lyric
I never met these country troubadours that sang songs that touched my heart
I heard every tear their voices shed and every note that almost made sense
Today some have left us to raise a ruckus in heaven
to liven up the old place as it were
 
Their whooping, hollering days that made them legends have diminished somewhat

They don’t have the arrogance like they did in their youth 
and they never betrayed their souls, their music or themselves
they’re my friends with many other singer-song writers of country music
they will always be my friends

I know I will meet them all someday in that sacred place of music
and we will play, sing and have a brew or two 
and suck some weed with Willy
me, my Mexican accordion and

The Country’s Legends of Forever.
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