Photo by RP Thomas
Tex’s Unfinished Song
Well the bar is open too late,
And nobody knows my songs.
People come round looking for
Lizzie
Without knowing she’s long gone.
I can hear her voice in the wild.
It blows in like a storm in
winter.
Like the cry of a lonesome child,
It makes me the loathsome fool.
I’d be crazy to ever try to win
her.
For she’s thinking about someone new;
A man with my old bus and
toolbox,
And a differing point of view…
ED: At this this point Tex
stopped writing
In deference to another ’57 Fury
sighting.
TS
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