***** Nilly and his best friend, Nick Name headed towards Malibu where they were to meet Hope Chest for tea. Uh oh, Nan O’Second insisted on going and then spoiled their plans because she wanted to bring Jack Russell. They ended up having donuts where they ran into Deb Enture, who was cooking up some deal with Sue Ffle.
Gus To was in the parking lot where he backed away from Ty Rade, who was his usual self.  Dan Druff and Stanley Cup attempted to intercede but were thwarted by Mo Mentum who halted their efforts.
Then, lo and behold, Ruth Less accompanied by Miss Ann Thrope shouted invective at everyone. This upset bystander Heidi **, who turned and left with Grant Writer. Ed U. Cated just sat in his car and put moves on Claire Voyant.

It all turned out ok
Here we are
The plans we made
Have all come true
I owe it all
I know it all
Is due to you
Oh, Cindy
It’s been quite a time
Rolling down the road of life
With lovin’ on our minds
We just keep keeping on
Smiling all the while
Optimistic is our characteristic
Sometimes flying blind
Oh, Cindy, isn’t it great
It all turned out OK?

This is the scene, the place
Where my tears did fall
This is where she broke my heart
If I must recall
That dreary day so long ago
When she told me we were through
“I could not wait any longer,” she said
It was such bad news
I’d never cried before, not like that
She was someone I could marry
So I thought
Instead I went kerplat
Down and out
Into the land of funk
Somehow I made it out
Here I am back today
Ruminating, researching
What was that about?
It was a long time ago
But the wound still smarts
Life is not perfect
Ask those with broken hearts
Some never mend
They just go on
Take me for example
For I am one

Our romance was a gust of wind
And so we flew away
Spent time in heaven
Too bad we could not stay
I shall remember it forever
And miss it just as long
Be thankful for what we had
We were and are a song
That only we could sing
More than just a memory
A feeling in our hearts
It hurts too much to grieve

She sends kisses in the wind
Hoping they will land on her true love
Wherever he may be
She knows he is out there
Just not where he is
But they will meet
When or where we shall see

He must be kind, she knows
Fundamentally
And a good lover
Who will be discreet
Like rock and pop music
And food from the street
The definition of class
Definitely

She waits
Patiently
She prays
He will be
Soon to arrive
She is ready to give her heart
All to him
Immediately

I don’t want to talk about it
How she broke my heart
I should have seen it coming
I’m not that smart
The big what if?
I was besotted
Entirely enthralled
It was fun while it lasted
We had a ball
And yes, she still lingers
When I get past the pain
Especially on days
When all it does is rain
When I reminisce
And try to explain
Why she didn’t love me
It seems so strange
For I did everything I could
My best for her
Too bad our romance
I could not insure
Forget the lovers’ dance
Then there’s the anger
She did lead me on
No, I don’t hate her
Though what she did was wrong
I still think of her
I still say her name
When I’m by myself
I should be ashamed
But she got to me
She won’t go away

Being divorced is not very much fun
Two kids, no dad, life on the run
A king-size bed with two pillows
But she’s sleeping alone

On a whim she headed East to the West
The Cowboy convention in Tucson
With her new boots and hat
And old friend Laura Lee, wearing a vest

This Hollywood screenwriter has seen them all
Jive city slickers with cell phones and new cars
It had been so long since she’d really been kissed
Her love life needed a punch, it could not make a fist

Samuel Dawson was born on and still lived on the ranch
He rode fence, chased cattle, is one studley man
With a soft streak as demonstrated by his craft
He works wonders with leather, why it was art

He too was lonely, this singular man
He’d cleaned himself up since his wife went and made other plans
For he had deserved it, so he sat hoping to sell
Wishing he’d find that artesian well

Stop the action, let me set the stage
There he sits at his craftsman’s booth
Underneath the canopy in the hot afternoon sun
Here comes Rebecca meandering along
She lingers and fingers his feathered and leathered strands
He smiles and she notes his mustache and tan
They talk, she will not turn away
Laura Lee shouts, “Let’s get on the way.”

This is where the story begins
One cowboy love that has no end
She’s still a writer on fine TV shows
Sam is the wrangler, whom everyone knows
Loves a lady who fancies parasols
On hot Summer days, who now rides a horse
Who no longer leads a half-finished life
Where western handicraft is everywhere in sight
And their love is on course

Some don’t understand, some don’t want to know
But bridges are built wherever you go
Even on land with no river in sight
When a cowboy finds love he succumbs without fight

The ranch is now located in Southern Cal
The fence he mends is picket, see for yourself
For I know them, and please call me Sam
She’ll be home in a few, I’m her lover man.