Those West Texas *******,
Sure look pretty good to me,
On the way back home,
to Nashville Tennessee.

I don't wanna hang out,
to the east, west, south or north.
Gonna write me a song,
swingin on my front porch.

Crickets sing in the background,
while feet stomp this here oak,
Pass me the slide and I'll take you on down the road.

My woman says I drink too much, and I agree with her,
Tie the devil round the bottle, make me a fishin' lure.

This Road's mighty ******* poor souls, especially the likes of me,
Take your candid pictures now, drown your worries down by the sea.

From where I stand today,
At sixty three years old,
I've lived twice the life,
of any man I've ever known.

No makeup, I got real scars,
All from after hour bars.
Read my poetry palms girl,
tell me If I'm near or far.

Played every stop along the way,
Sometimes got out for free.
Look at this face child,
Don't reckon I owe a fee.

Leaving those West Texas *******,
easier than it seems,
Gettin' back to my front porch is where I Wanna be.

_trf WPbumblefoot