She bares the pain and joy of this world with praise and thanksgiving.
A man chiseled by life, attempts to conquer what he has already been given.
Yet she brings him to his knees, not as to extinguish his heart,
but rather to kindle a flame so that God may know he is His own.
A family’s journey in a wagon, heading West to see the sights.
Three young children on this passage, two of which are prone to fight.
Never hurting one another, just a way to blow some steam.
Cross the dessert, over mountains, through the forest and up the streams.
Of all the people in this world
how did I meet you?
Was it fate that blessed us with
arranging our first rendezvous?
Abundant earth our God has given some in sight and some well hidden.
Beneath the streets that run through cities, towns and farms and pastures plenty.
Rolling hills and mountains high, ocean floors and desserts wide. Beneath it all left unseen, lay the veins that fuel the dreams.
The inner fabric of our mind
consumed with derelict and waste.
What energy is spent-what cost to fuel such putrid hate?
The walls we build to save our soul;
The backyard trees a host to many, feathered friends who feed on plenty.
A young child’s eyes and ears in tune with what’s expected, how she yearns.
The ritual she knows too well, it’s her job to calm the swell.
A task that any one could do, but she and Rooster rule this roost.
My baby and I are going out tonight she wants to blow a little steam.
Cowboy shirt is starched so nicely, wrangler jeans with laser seams.
I love this woman; we plan to marry if I get my head on strait.
I better get my act together; the ice is thin, it just might break
Ol’ Marfa was a blue tic hound,
no owner did she claim.
No one knows where she came from
or who gave her the name.
His eyes they pierce the coming storm.
Ferocious volley, he orbits the mound.
Releasing wrath upon the slayer.
The object sought-he prays not found.
I’m headed south from Cleveland
aiming toward the Georgia line.
Two weeks I’ll spend with
Aunt Lucille, my last surviving Southern tie.