California on my mind
I straddled that Greyhound
And rode on into Raleigh
And on across Caroline
Halfway across Alabam'
Well that hound broke down and left us all stranded
In downtown Birmingham
Ridin' across Mississippi clean
And I was on that midnight flyer out of Birmingham
Smoking into New Orleans
Just to help me get to Houston Town
There are people there who care a little about me
And they won't let the poor boy down
Put luggage in my hand
And I woke up high over Albuquerque
On a jet to the promised land
Flying over to the golden state
Ah when the pilot told us in thirteen minutes
He would set us at the terminal gate
Taxi to the terminal zone
Cut your engines and cool your wings
And let me make it to the telephone
Tidewater four ten o nine
Tell the folks back home this is the promised land calling
And the poor boy is on the line
Greetings and Salutations;
Not much I will say, in a public forum. Work is done and it's all over but the shouting. The skies have been rumbling and the weather forecasts rain on all the crops. A harvest for the world, as it were.
Reagan's appointee can finally take a much needed vacation from the labors and I can go sit my butt on a nice beach and drink umbrella drinks...and never speak of this change over again.
It'll make into the history books, called, "After the World moved On" or "Before the World moved On"...depending on your taste.
Leading up to it is recent article that lets you see, the secret's out. Now the real work begins.
Last but not least, hold on to your shorts, it's coming and Man, is it Huge.
Love and Kisses,