city's a flood, and our love turns to rust.
We're beaten and blown by the wind
Trampled in dust.
I'll show you a place
High on a desert plain
Where the streets have no name"
Random ramblings from an amateur rock-n-roll historian and critic,self-professed bourbon aficionado, blackberry growin', jam makin', sometime tie-die shirt makin', ex hippie wannabe, turned punk rock lovein', blues festival going, middle aged pudgy bald white guy who loves to wear Hawaiian shirts in the summertime and happens to be more Stax than Motown, more Alman Brothers than Skynard, more Stones than Beatles, more NASCAR than Baseball, more freeware than license keys...
2 Turtles
1 Frog1 Crayfish
1 Salamander Tail
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