Best of the Welcome Columns


Best of the Welcome Columns

Author: Karsemeyer, John
Sweet Senior James

There is an old cowboy, he's grown kind of strange His guitar and banjo are his only companions He sleeps in the saddle and yawns in the canyons He's grown plumper, but hopes for change And as the moon rises, he spits on his fire Thinking about old times, and sheds a small tear And crosses his eyes, while he starts to perspire He belts out a song with a belch from his beer And a mile away someone can hear Goodnight all you silver haired ladies Remember sweet senior James Rodeo queens and Ol' Blue are two that I choose Won't you let me be young in your dreams And think about sweet senior James Now it's the eleventh of December, not covered in snow No white on the freeways from Stockton to Frisco And the banjos play bluegrass, breakdowns not disco Father's Day six months behind me, and six more to go There's a song that we sing as we go down life's highway A song that we sing when we take time to see Gospel points there to our home in the sky Those that believe it have no need to weep And bluegrass works just fine for me Goodnight all you silver haired ladies Remember sweet senior James Rodeo queens and Ol' Blue are two that I choose Won't you let me be young in your dreams And think about sweet senior James Note: The above, if sung as a song, may (or may not) have a resemblance to a popular song from the end of the 1960's or early 1970's that was written and sung by James Taylor. However, the author has no knowledge of the aforementioned, and if he does, his current level of pain medication has blocked that knowledge from his conscious memory. This has been verified by a Notary Public (that took place deep in the heart of the Missouri Ozarks, at a specific place, and at a specific time, the two of which he cannot remember).

Posted: 12/11/2010