Yacht rock. Wavy, salty, and blue. Whitecaps losing to the wind, ocean spray. Ignore the sharks. Ignore the sunburn.
Fish dinners and white wines. Avoid the slippery, wet deck. Stay in the cabin, secure the utensils. Float it out. Bob and bob.
Don't need no captain. We're on autopilot, we've set out. Further out, around, and up. The deep deep. Where it's freezing and void.
*CBaker coWrite.
This orange juice tastes funny.
Where's all my money?
Thought it'd be more sunny.
Wonder what time it is.
Clock says eight thirty six.
Better get my coffee fix.
Cold water on my face, all my tricks.
Gotta be ready at nine.
Gonna smooth talk those folks.
Gonna get 'em with all my jokes.
Better get a quick toke.
Relax my nerves and mind.
Slapped on some old spice.
Never gets old, like liquid ice.
Ladies all tell me I smell so nice.
Dudes, too. Hey, get back.
Finally realized what time it was.
PM, not AM, still had a nice buzz.
Drank another wine, just because.
It's still last night.
CGAmF
CoWrite: B Trevino.
I'm at the bottom
I'm at the bottom
I'm at the bottom of my algo feed.
Yes, I've been cussing
Yes, I've been cussing
Prolly best they don't hear me bleed.
Well then, why bother.
Well then, why bother.
Ain't about you, it's more about me.
Sorting out my thoughts, y'all.
Sorting out my thoughts, y'all.
Last thing I'm thinking 'bout is who to reach.
So as the time passes slowly and we live so low-key, and we plant an oak tree, we know the end is really the start.
Better than television.
Better than television.
Nothing on television worth nothing at all.
All we need is a tiny screen.
Little bitty tiny screen.
Play your music, don't lose it, and have a ball.
Don't care about the time I spend.
Don't care about the shape I'm in.
Not worried bout one less friend.
Shake it off of me.
Shake it off of me.
Am I a thief, you'll never know.
Might take your silver, might take your gold.
Don't ever think I won't go that low.
Shook it off of me.
Shook it off of me.
Lay back and let the music through.
Turn off the lights if you got to.
Something funky, something new.
Let it in your head.
Let it in your head.
Hear the echoes and the reverb.
Bout the coolest thing you ever heard.
Groovy keyboard and some crazy words.
Come on and let it in.
Come on and let it in.
EmAmx3
DAmEmx2
AmEmx3
DAmEmx2
Gimme some shelter,
Gimme some rust.
Gimme a trail dog,
If you must.
On the highway,
Dodging cones.
Big trucks passing by,
Long way from home.
Set out from Farmersville.
Through the rolling plains.
Finished up in New Boston.
They thought we was insane.
There was Ladonia,
Way way back.
Paris and Reno,
Along these tracks.
The Tomato Shed,
Burned out shacks.
Empty Crisco cans,
And bums on crack.
Sipping beers at Amigo Juan's.
Frozen glasses and limes.
Hundred and thirty miles in all.
Along the NorthEast Texas line.
C.C.G.C.
FCx3
GFC
Felt my smile about to crack.
Damn your pride, got your back.
Dreams are dreams, facts are facts.
Let's get on with it.
Life's too short for ugly frowns.
Act like I'm up even when I'm down.
Pick up a guitar and make some sounds.
Let's get on with it.
We thought it up so long ago.
Like yesterday, it seems, what did we know.
Floated rivers and survived the snows.
Let's get on with it.
Those days are gone and here we are.
Been on a spaceship now we're back from Mars.
Not too long before we join the stars.
Let's get on with it.
CGAmF
The drive from London to Dublin went directly through the geographical center of the state. A 50-foot high lookout looks out in every direction, it was vast, no structures could be seen, only land and trees and ledges and creeks and ridges and horizons. The west is prettier than the east, and so it is with Texas. Also, on the way to Dublin, I decided to play a 9-hole golf course near the town of Bland my cousin told me about years ago. His story was so compelling, it made a fine tune...
Three Dead Skunks
Maybe it's the goo on my shoe from the backroom hairdoos.
Could be some old food voodoo, maybe their bread is turning blue.
Couldn't really tell what made the smell, but it smelled like hell.
Air was stale like sour milk pails, like a stinky, moldy jail.
(Chorus)
Paid my green fee.
Didn't look like many trees.
Just a slight southern breeze.
But the stink almost knocked me down.
Jumped in a cart about to start, loosening up all my body parts.
Broke my heart, they had no scorecards, keeping score in my head is hard.
Hit nothing but junk, score was sunk, water balls went kaplunk kaplunk.
Was in a funk, was playing like a punk, then I drove by 3 dead skunks.
Rest of the round no putts went down, almost par'd 7 but the ball lipped out.
This small town, hard pan ground, 9 hole course we somehow found.
It was going to pot, place smelled like rot, took a snowman on 8, then took a shot.
By 9 we were fine, we'll remember the time, Blanket Muni Golf Course, the scene of the crime.
...true story.
My experience was similar, and despite the Tuesday Special of a free back nine, I passed on playing 18, the place smelled fine, no dead skunks, but I took my 39 and headed north. For the final two days of the Texas Cosmopolitan Roadtrip, I rented a small farm house in Dublin, it was essentially in the middle of a giant field behind an old mansion, and it was perfect. A place to unwind my mind, write chapters, record songs for the Texas Cosmopolitan album, rest, and understand what this ramble, this wander, this jaunt taught me. Dublin was a fantastic town with clovers all over, they embraced their namesake, like Paris, unlike Athens. The spirit of the town was unbroken even by the seemingly endless demolitions and constructions underway, detours were everywhere, closed roads downtown, like a scene from the New Deal days, projects everywhere.
The two days went by slowly, my mind was calm and satisfied, filled up and inspired. The covers were easy: Dylan's From a Buick 6, Buffett's He Went To Paris, and Guy Clark's Dublin Blues. Along with the five originals I recorded in Martindale, the album was in the can. Most of the chapters of the expose were written, but not all, the final sentence would have to wait until a proper reflection. Overall, some places are striving, some places are inside their own loop, some places are dark, some places are overtook, some places are too close to Houston, some places are heaven, some places have everything but people, and some places are under construction.