Saturday, September 18, 2010

The Day They Laid Poor Pancho Low, Lefty Split For Ohio. Where he got the bread to go, ain't nobody knows...





Texas troubadors, twin fiddles and twanging guitars in a neon-fueled world of asphalt ribbons and towering steel derricks, mesquite, greasewood, prickly pear and vinegaroons galore.

Outlaws come and go, but some stay on and live in the skies above forever and ever.

Amen.

So mote it be.



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