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© 2010 Hill Country Records |
ROBERT EARL REED |
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CARLENE |
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| The old town fell into itself and you watched from a tailgate. Taking a long draw from a tall beer, you steer towards the backroads, towards a hidden lake where crappie bite against an August sundown and an oxbow where riverside hoboes camp. Past scavenging hounds, crumbling churches, red white and blue beer boxes, past a scrapyard piled high with skeletons of used-up cars and cabins on forgotten, sunken roads where doe eyes shine like marbles of light in the woods around you. You realize it's no longer daylight but not dark yet either and you're lost trying to get back home. Above you, all you see is buzzards and eagles soaring together above the scoured places where the hills give way to kudzu hollers, canebrakes, and mud. These songs are a mess of hitchhikers thumbing on the highway outside of town. |
