Monday, August 27, 2007

I Just Live Here

A friend of mine just left town, and I mean just left town. She was a little cutie pie, but kind of an attitude. She was a bramaid at the pub, and I hung out with her and her friends quite a bit. She'd been here for about three years, and now she's gone. I'll miss her... For a while...
This town, and the people I know here seem to always be in flux. I think the only person I really know from Austin is my friend Austin, who is in school in Denver right now. Go figure.

James McMurtry, son of Larry McMurtry (author of Lonesome Dove) is an Austin resident, and lives right down from my friend John who runs the pub. (Hows that for continuity) James McMurtry is an acomplished musician and one of his songs has been running through my head today.

I'm not from here
I just live here
grew up somewhere far away
come here thinking I'd never stay long
I'd be going back soon someday

it's been a few years
since I got here
seen 'em come and I've seen 'em go
crowds assemble, they hang out awhile
then they melt away like an early snow

onto some bright future somewhere
down the road to points unknown
sending postcards when they get there
wherever it is they think they're goin'

I'm not from here
I just live here
can't see that it matters much
I read the papers and I watch the nightly news
who's to say I'm out of touch

nobody's from here
most of us just live here
locals long since moved away
sold the played-out farms for parking lots
went off looking for a better way

onto some bright future somewhere
better times on down the road
wonder if they ever got there
wherever it was they thought they'd go

hit my home town
a couple years back
hard to say just how it felt
but it looked like so many towns I might've been through
on my way to somewhere else

I'm not from here
but people tell me
it's not like it used to be
they say I should have been here
back about ten years
before it got ruined by folks like me

we can't help it
we just keep moving
it's been that way since long ago
since the stone age, chasing the great herds
we mostly go where we have to go

onto some bright future somewhere
down the road to points unknown
sending post cards when we get there
wherever it is we think we'll go



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