SELF PRESERVATION

Mother of Invention asked if James McMurtry did any 'Happy" songs..... I don't think so, but this one has a certain hope for the future about it.

I met a friend of ours several months back and my first impressions of her were what this song, “Crazy Wind” is all about.
She seemed like just another of some man's “Bird Dogs in a wire cage.”
She made me think of the book Billie had given me when I was 22 called the “Energy of Slaves” by Leonard Cohen.
and the day my fiance, "Susie the Slut" told me that she didn't want to go from being "Some Man's Daughter to Some Man's Wife"
And no matter how hard it was, knowin' the Ex- Mrs Bulletholes had done the right thing. Hell she did the only thing I left her to do.
It reminds me that there are a lot of men and women out there that STILL want to own other men and women.

Here’s to "flyin' down that 4-Lane."
Crazy Wind

gone off in the pitch-black dark
to work the morning tour
he's halfway to the highway
and he won't be back for hours
his tail lights down the gravel road
you watch them round the bend
nothing's on the TV
but something's in the wind
and it makes you crazy
and it makes you blue
it's a restless feeling
and it's nothing new

listen to the buzzing
of the June bugs and the flies
the sink's all full of dishes
you might just let 'em lie
you might just pour yourself a drink
and sit outside awhile
he won't miss the whiskey
he knows it's not your style
and he don't care enough
to even wonder why
you fight off his fumbling hands
with daggers in your eyes

time sure flies when you're having fun
wasn't it just yesterday you turned twenty-one
does it still matter what you might have done
had you tried

his bird dogs in their wire cage
are barking at the moon
you turn the covers back and hope
the dawn don't come too soon
draw the shades to keep your dark eyes
from the glare of the vapor light
but the sheets are cool and empty
and you won't sleep tonight
with a half moon rising
and a warm gusty breeze
blowing from the southwest
whispering in the trees

the asphalt 'neath the tires makes
a hollow whining sound
and it stretches on forever
through a thousand little towns
with their stores all dark and silent
and their flashing yellow lights
and nobody sees your passing
in the fury of your flight
you'll see them later
some other day
self preservation
what can you say

time sure flies when you're having fun
your mind's all made up now
and it's all said and done
flying down the four lane with the morning sun
in your eyes

J MCMURTRY