Ima gwain over by Witch’s Hat Mountain
Ware da horizon is all around
Atop mah Witch’s Hat Mountain
I kin feel mah feets on da ground
Gonna catch me some deers and hares
Livin round Witch’s Hat Mountain
Gonna pitcha tent and loose mah cares
Over by mah Witch’s Hat Mountain
Sout bout Fort Davis like
Above dem texican plains is Witch’s Hat Mountain
A risin sun paints da east side dawn
Come wid me to Witch’s Hat Mountain
Cuz dats ware Ima be gone
So took the turn
To Hudson Valley Road,
Passed an embarrassment of bluebonnets
And a mite scandal of cactus,
Trying to find my true love’s grave.
So found myself back in Kingsland
Between two hills and five sighs;
Drove beyond ‘show pigs’ and llamaland
And there found the ‘not by much’ iron gate
Of the Eternal Rest Cemetery, to
Drop off my two rose bouquet and
Sit to have a talk with Carol Bell. (She never
Much cared for her married name) but she married the other one—
With a job, and a house, and good sense to settle down with
A Texas beauty with brains enough to pick steady over party-crazy with dark eyes.
Dark Eyes eventually mostly stopped crying but here I was ten years after with nice
Store-bought flowers and tried with caught-breath to say hey.
Got back on Park Road 4 for the roller coaster ride back to civilization, sorry there were
No deer about to justify the Warning: Deer signs along the road. Phone rang…
Back to work, passing the scandal of cactus and the embarrassment of bluebonnets….
so I took a turn down winding creek road
to see what I could see that funny sunny Thursday
there were deer and cows and horses proud
and roads turning off and about every which away
So touring the sylvan environs of Spicewood
betwixt here and there and those Marble Falls
off off off the main road heading out twisting curves
gotta pay extra attention: better hold all my calls.
bridges over Little Cypress Creek are a bit o’ let’s try this
and watch those scrapple gravel drives, please no dust!
Because you pop a tire way down there, my friend
taint no AAA a-coming, you are just stuck and bust.
heading home from Spicewood flying down 71
I saw deers and cows and some horses fine,
but the people there are so just the nicest,
exemplars of the best of the American kind!
hey! if you’re feeling poorly, bad news has darkened the Sun,
try a refresher country drive and take that turn off at Spur 191.