Where They Sleep Out Every Night
In a few hours, I'm going to embark on a cross country drive from Northern Virginia to Southern California. I'll be driving a Ford Escort that's got 165,000 miles on the odometer. Although I've done everything I can to streamline my packing, the car's pretty weighed down.
On the way, I hope to re-visit Phillip's Grocery and Graceland Too in Holly Springs, Mississippi. And to check out a grotto in Memphis. I'm looking forward to visiting Clinton's library in Little Rock, as well as the art museum designed by Louis Kahn in Fort Worth. I'm hoping to swing by Marfa, Texas, on the was to El Paso, and check out whatever it is that Donald Judd did out there, and see whether the Marfa Lights really are mysterious. And I'm hoping to finally visit the Titan Missle Museum outside Tucson.
I'll try and post some updates en route.
On the way, I hope to re-visit Phillip's Grocery and Graceland Too in Holly Springs, Mississippi. And to check out a grotto in Memphis. I'm looking forward to visiting Clinton's library in Little Rock, as well as the art museum designed by Louis Kahn in Fort Worth. I'm hoping to swing by Marfa, Texas, on the was to El Paso, and check out whatever it is that Donald Judd did out there, and see whether the Marfa Lights really are mysterious. And I'm hoping to finally visit the Titan Missle Museum outside Tucson.
I'll try and post some updates en route.
posted by Charles P. Everitt at 12:00 AM
1 Comments:
One evening as the sun went down and the jungle fire was burning
Down the track came a hobo hiking and he said boys I'm not turning
I'm headin for a land that's far away beside the crystal fountains
So come with me we'll go and see the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains there's a land that's fair and bright
Where the handouts grow on bushes and you sleep out every night
Where the boxcars are all empty and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the cigarette trees
Where the lemonade springs where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains all the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hens lay soft boiled eggs
The farmer's trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh, I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains you never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol come a-trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats and the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew and of whiskey too
You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains the jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again as soon as you are in
There ain't no short handled shovels, no axes saws or picks
I'm a goin to stay where you sleep all day
Where they hung the jerk that invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
I'll see you all this coming fall in the Big Rock Candy Mountains
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