My Old Pickup Truck

When I turned fifteen she was
Given to me
My dad bought her new back in
Seventy three
Back when a truck was
Built to last
She was big and heavy she was
Powerful and fast

All day she and I would
Work on the farm
Hauling feed to the livestock and
Hay to the barn
Sometimes in her bed you could
Find me sleeping
On a Friday night after
I'd been drinking

Bad on gas, four wheel drive and
Full of rust
But she'd leave a muscle car
Eating her dust
Blowing smoke from her tailpipe
As she went
Leaving nothing behind but
A carbon footprint

The Wino

The people walk by
Busy and hurried,
As they go about their day.
I sit and I watch,
Hoping they might
Throw some spare change my way.

They call me a
Wino
But at least
I know
Exactly what I am.

They dress the part
And hope they aren't
gonna be outdone by the other.
Making their deals
To pay their high bills
While turning their backs on their brother.

They call me a
Wino
But at least
I know
Exactly what I am.

They live on credit
And go further in debt
Trying to keep up with the Jones's.
On the streets of this city
Some show me pity
But most just turn up their noses.

I am a
Wino
But at least
I know
Exactly what I am.

Bull Rider's Lament

I may not have won,
But at least I survived.
I am going home empty,
But I still have my pride.

No fame, no buckle,
No saddle, no purse.
I'm bruised and I'm battered,
But it could be worse.

My duffel bags packed
If I leave by tonight.
I could make it to Houston
Just before light.

I pray a good bull
To me will be dealt.
And I will win a new buckle
To wear on my belt.

Good Bye Family Farm

Acre by acre
I sell of my land.
To a banker in the city
With a development plan.

Like my father before me
And his father before,
I've been plowing this land
Since the day I was born.

Progress is comming
I guess it's their right.
I just hate that I am having
To give up this fight.

Good bye family farm
I am loading my truck,
To head to the city
To try out my luck.

Nightly Ritual

Some go to the city
and party all night.
Some go out to bars
to be rowdy and fight.

Away from the city.
Away from the bars.
Sitting on my front porch
Just smoking cigars.

I don't sit and think
about what others say.
I relax with a cold drink.
I meditate. I pray.

Away from the city.
Away from the bars.
Sitting on my front porch
Just smoking cigars.

It's my nightly ritual
Each night before bed.
It helps clear the demons
That build in my head.

Away from the city.
Away from the bars.
Sitting on my front porch
Just smoking cigars.