He got bad, and she got mad, he lowered one more time
And she got even
No one heard a single word and as the clock ticked from next door
I could hear her breathing

And I said good morning Mrs. Sumner I would like you to meet my friend Mr. Jones
He has a house made out of butterflies
I can't sleep sometimes but I've been told
It's a lonely condition called growing old
Let me stumble sometimes

I'm looking for a soul to cling to
Girl what you think about that

This time, well it all comes down
To loss and strain and butterflies
Then it comes right down to me

Hello have you been alright
Did you find a piece of something wrapped around the light side of your life
To make you feel better
Did you get out with your sanity
Did you save a little something for the people in need
And did you know with the rain in your pockets
You can change the weather

Is it just the total for the wages of our sins
And have you made yourself a victim
In a game that you can't win
And are we caving in
And does it all depend on loss and strain and butterflies
And does it come right down to me anymore
This time
Does it all come down
To loss and strain and butterflies

When all our tears have reached the sea
Part of you will live in me
Way down deep inside my heart
The days keep coming without fail
A new wind is gonna find your sail
That’s where your journey starts

Just like the waves down by the shore
We’re gonna keep on coming back for more
’cause we don’t ever wanna stop
Out in this brave new world you seek
Oh the valleys and the peaks
And I can see you on the top

A girl's gotta have all kinds

Let's go to Luckenbach, Texas
with Waylon and Willie and the boys....

Between Hank Williams pain songs,
Newberry's train songs
and blue eyes cryin' in the rain
out in Luckenbach Texas
ain't nobody feelin' no pain


(been there, many times..... one of my favorite Texas highways near there is on what's called the "Devil's Backbone"
...and if you haven't been there, "you ain't missin' much"... 'cause... this is IT.
well, besides the dance hall, that is.)

Photo ref from a Navajo ceremony honoring Desert Storm servicemen, Spencer, U.S. Air Force, Yellowman, U.S. Marine Corps

Now that's an American

it gets me so high
I can fly like an eagle
night after night

I put my money on love again
at a hundred to one
I don't mind losin'
I'll just try till I win
or see how close I can come

and I've got a whole lot more to say..."

That's why God made Mexico
a place where we can lay low
where the Cuervo goes down nice and slow
and the warm winds blow

Cause life is sweet in a border town
you learn to let your hair down
you don't make trouble, you learn to dance the Fandango
You change your name and you change your face
Get used to beans and chili paste
and you learn to live and love life in the slow lane

....and that's why God made Mexico....

(One of my favorite Texans... and I was just thinking it's a good damn thing I don't have a "Clyde" right now.)

Bonnie Parker stood 4’11" in her stocking feet, weighed 90 pounds, had Shirley Temple-colored strawberry-blond ringlets, was freckle-faced and, according to those who knew her, was very pretty. Born October 1, 1910, in Rowena, Texas, her parents were hard working laborers plunked down in life among the lower caste. A good student in high school, she excelled in creative writing and displayed a dramatic flair for the arts. Her favorite color was red; when she could afford it, she wore fashionable clothes dominating that color. She loved hats of all kinds. As a child, her father died young and her mother was forced to bring her and her two siblings to Cement City, near Dallas, where they lived with Mrs. Parker’s parents. Married too young, at age 16, her immature rattle-brained husband wound up in the penitentiary a year later. For money, she was forced to become a waitress. Bored and poor, she knew life had something more to offer.
Clyde Chestnut Barrow stood 5’7," weighed 130 pounds, slicked back his thick brown hair in the style of the day, and parted it on the left. His eye color matched his hair. Women found him attractive. He came into this world as one of many children born to dirt-poor tenant farmer parents barely making a living on the cotton fields of Teleco, Texas. Moving with his parents, brothers and sisters to the Dallas outskirts, where his father ran a gas station (in which the family members crowded as one into a tiny back room), Clyde quickly learned to abhor poverty. Bored and poor, he too knew life had something more to offer.
Bonnie and Clyde were meant for each other. And they clung to each other while they fought back against the elements. These elements were destitution and a government they took for its face value. They were children of a nationwide economic depression that not unlike France in the late 1700s had its upheavals -- and those who tried to keep small the size and impact of the upheavals.
An anger dwelt within Clyde, having been born ragged and made more ragged by the Depression. He sometimes killed in cold blood, and always tried to justify the murders as if he had a right to pull that trigger, thus releasing somehow the seething that built up like a volcano deep inside him. Perhaps he actually believed in his own special privilege. As the fame of Bonnie and Clyde grew, they shot their way out of police loops, each time growing tighter and tighter, and claimed that the "laws" they killed just happened to get in the way between their fiery outcry and the rest of the country. Their killings were not personal, they contended. But, the government took them personal. And Bonnie and her man were marked for death.

TexMex border

You'll shoot your eye out, kid.