Buffalo River Home

there are two things in life....but i forgot what they are...

just mixing drinks with mixed feelings...

Ive been taking off and landing but this airports closed
And how much thicker this fog is gonna get God only knows
Just when you think that youve got a grip
Reality sneaks off it gives you the slip
As if you ever knew what it was taking you down the line

Chorus:
Tearing through the cottonfields and bus shelters
Of the south running helter skelter
Down through the mississippi delta
With no place to call your own
Mixing up drinks with mixed feelings
All along the paint was peeling
Down to an indian blanket on a pony
With no rider in the flesh and bone
Looking for his buffalo river home

Ive been circling the wagons down at times square
Trying to fIll up this hole in my soul but nothing fits there
Just when you think you can let it rip
Youre pounding the pavement in your daddys wingtips
As if you had some place better to go
Or a better way to get there

Chorus

Now theres only two things in life but I forget what they are
It seems were either hanging on a moonbeams coat tails
Or wishing on stars
Just when you think that youve been gyped
The bearded lady comes and does a double back flip
And you run off and join the circus
Yeah, you just let that pony ride

John Hiatt and Shawn Colvin Saturday night

Sue snagged quick tickets to see these two Saturday night at the Melody Tent in Hyannis. Wanted to see Shawn Colvin and didn't know John Hiatt but, man, glad we stayed for the second set.

Funny, summer Cape crowd, all tan and khaki, shorts and sweatshirts to ward off the damp chill. I said to Sue, what a good-lookin' bunch, not a hump in the crowd.

Overheard someone in the beer line during intermission saying that Colvin reminded them of Joni Mitchell the way she talked (and talked, but it was okay, she's got a nice stage presence) and kept meticulously tuning her guitar all the while. Played Sonny plus a few others I recognized but can't recall right now because I'm not a big fan, but she's got a nice voice, not a great voice, but good story-telling songs.

John Hiatt. Holy shit. He came out looking like he just hopped off the tractor from plowing the soy beans. His old limp jeans just hanging on him, untucked shirt coming out under his denim jacket (in short, he dressed a helluva a lot the way I do) and he just, to use some Chris Knight lyrics, banged away. Great energy, great storytelling, and he ripped that guitar, tearing his pick through the strings like a scythe in hay season, and it became part of his soul that night.