He played the Red River Valley
And I sat in the kitchen and cried
Running my fingers through many years of living
And wondering, Lord has every well I've drilled gone dry
And so I drove up to this roadhouse, the Bent Wrench, near Nashville. And there was Dallas Moore and his band. In the book, I tell of how Dallas, when he was a teenager, came upon Outlaw pioneer Billie Gant in a honky tonk. Dallas, young as he was, was so excited that, he later said, "we might as well have been in the Superdome"--he though it was that great.
The Bent Wrench was my "Superdome." That's how much Dallas' music meant to me. "Outlaw Country" might as well have been the Holy Grail. But certainly he couldn't grow beyond that. And then comes the CD "Blessed Be the Bad Ones."
And our lives were like some old Western movie
Like desperados waiting for a train
And so the tracks were laid before me, as if handed to me as a gift, to keep me moving; towards the completion of the book and ever deeper into my life.
Dallas might just as well have been in a Superdome near Nashville. He might just as well be in a Superdome today. There's no need to lie about our lives as he plays.
Well to me he's one of the heroes of this country
And we were drinking beer as he played Moon In '42
Just like a desperado waiting for a train