|
|
|
Location: Blogs ~WC~ |
 |
| Posted by: whiskeychick |
3/9/2005 12:32 PM |
Drunk, 15 and out with the boys. We'd go 4 wheelin out in the desert till we were left with just enough gas to get us home, then we'd strike up a fire and just sit around listening to music, singing and having a good ole time...
...It was inevitable that every time we went out, somewhere in the wee hours just before twilight, this song would come on, and as all good little shitkickers did, we'd lower our hats and bow our heads in respect. You see, for us it wasn't about fitting into our little group. And it wasn't about our grades, or our backgrounds, or what clubs and cliques we were part of. We didn't care who had the newer car, or if you had one at all.
What mattered to me was that this group of drinking, swearing, ass-grabbing, filthy boys were the same ones who'd come to my house at a moment's notice to get me out when I needed safety. They were the ones who took care of me, made me their little mascot. They watched out for me in all the ways that family should, and then some. My first true crush was one of them. Hell... one of the boys was one I'd known in kindergarten, I moved around the damned country and back again, and found him there. All of them are such a big part of my past and changed my life. So as we'd stand around that fire, with our hats in hand, I thought about what family really is, and safety, and history, and roots. And of course John would kick in on the chorus, and the rest of us would join in, and it was back to the party again. Anyhow... I know... kinda campy, but hey... it's my favorite moment in my entire high school life.
Well there's always been groups of people who couldn't see eye
to eye...an' I always thought if they'd get the chance to sit down and
talk face to face they'd see we all have a lot in common....
Well I was sittin' at a coffee shop,
just havin' a cup to pass the time.
Swappin' some stories
with this ole cowboy friend of mine.
When some motor-cycler riders
started snickerin' in the back.
Started pokin' fun at my friend hat.
One ole boy said hey Tex,
where'd you park your horse.
Now my friend just pulled his hat down low,
but they couldn't be ignored.
One husky fella said,
I think I'll rip that hat right off your head.
That's when my friend turned around,
and this is what he said...
You'll ride a black tornado,
'cross the western sky.
Rope an ole blue northern,
and milk it til it's dry.
Bull dawg the Mississippi,
and pin her ears down flat...
Long before you take this cowboys hat...
Now pardner,
this ole hat is better left alone,
See it used to be my daddy's,
but last year he passed on.
My nephew skinned the Rattler,
that makes up this ole hatband.
But back in '69 he died in Viet-Nam.
Now the eagle feather was given to me
by an ole Indian friend of mine,
But someone ran him down,
somewheres 'round that Arizona line.
And a real special lady
gave me this hat pin.
And I don't know if I'll ever see her again.
You'll ride a black tornado,
'cross the western sky.
Rope an ole blue northern,
and milk it til it's dry.
Bull dawg the Mississippi,
and pin her ears down flat...
Long before you take this cowboys hat...
Now if you leather jacket means to you
what this hat means to me.
Then I guess we understand each other,
and we'll just let it be.
But if you still think it's funny,
well man, you've got my back up against the wall.
But if you touch my hat,
you'll have to fight us all...
Well, right then I caught a little sadness
in the gang leaders eyes.
And he turned back t'wards the others
and they all just sorta shuffled on outside.
But when my friend turned back t'wards me,
well I noticed his old hat brim.
Well it was turned up...in a big ole Texas Grin!
You'll ride a black
'cross the western skies,
Rope an ole blue
and milk it 'til it's dry.
Bull dawg the Mississippi
and pin her ears down flat...
Long before you touch this cowboy's hat
RIP Chris Ledoux. |
|
| Permalink |
Trackback |
Comments (1)
Add Comment
|
Re: This cowboy's hat... |
By TallUSAFMan on
4/12/2006 3:49 PM |
Yo know.. I think every group had a song like that. Whether it was repect or just a moment that drew you together. Ours was "I'm Goin' Straight To Hell"~Drivin' n Cryin'. That song would somehow make it's way on whatever radio, tape or CD we were listening to seemed like everyweekend down at the Lake Bardwell railroad bridge where we did OUR verson of your story. Guess we are all the same no matter were you go.
|
|
|
|
|