Still in Texas
By: John Bjorkman
Duration
4:50
Genres
Description
I wrote the chorus during many journeys on the 989 miles of I-10 across Texas. The verses are an allegory for my life.
Lyrics
Still In Texas Words and Music by John Bjorkman (c) 2010 A Florida Cracker wandered westward to fly, but Golden State promise proved empty and dry. With no place to stay, he just packed up his truck, and lamented his languishing luck. Arizona deserts, New Mexico's signs, with hardly a ripple crossed the Great Divide. He stopped off in Anthony, topped off the gas, then the miles slowly slipped past. And he's still in Texas. Where the bluebonnets grow, and the prairie winds blow from Amarillo to the Gulf of Mexico. From the seaport in Houston to old El Paso, there's no place to go but home. And he's still in Texas. He found friendly farm roads, no traffic to fight, but his heart and the engine soon started to die. He limped into a town and a Tex-Mex cafe, and found he had no way to pay. They treated him kindly, had a bunk in the back. He'd work for his bills, no need to keep track. Three weeks went by and he ended this trial, but he needed to rest for awhile. So he's still in Texas. Where the bluebonnets grow, and the prairie winds blow from Amarillo to the Gulf of Mexico. From the seaport in Houston to old El Paso, there's no place to go but home. And he's still in Texas. The sweet señorita, who worked the cafe, healed up his heart; he decided to stay. He traded the oceans for wide open views; and took Lone Star romantics for blues. Five decades later, his grandsons are men, the sun in his eyes has whispered, ’amen’; Cool Brazos teardrops flowed peaceful that day, as gently he’s laid in his grave. Now he’s still in Texas Where the bluebonnets grow, and the prairie winds blow from Amarillo to the Gulf of Mexico. From the seaport in Houston to old El Paso, there's no place to go but home. And he’s still in Texas He lies still in Texas Where the bluebonnets grow, and the prairie winds blow from Amarillo to the Gulf of Mexico. From the seaport in Houston to old El Paso, there's no place to go but home. There's no place to go but home. Any place you go is home, when you’re in Texas.
