Up in the night, the deep morning, before the early air cools off the lingering fall heat. The Texas summer with a final squeeze. There is no rest now, mind's been hacked. Lots to take in, lots to learn, lots to know. The National Football League is turning 100. A century of grunting, grabbing, grounding, flying, slinging, slamming, and smashing. Glory and defeat, success and disappointment, love and hate, peace and war, money and fame, lights and colors.
Orange, the color of blaze.
Blue, the mood for the day.
Green, it's alright and allgood.
Gold, in their neighborhood.
Sleep it off later, this session of decision. This time of rhymes, when the rap it at its best. The highway begins to roar, the early get an early start on the getting. They are inspired by the days, they don't fear the nights, each having their own stories and woes and lies and sad eyes. Each with things that make them feel safe and happy, each with expectations and aspirations. The weary just kept going, and going. Paying the tolls, hitting the road, go go go.