Amarillo by morning Up from San Antone Everything that I've got Is just what I've got onWhen that sun is high In that Texas sky I'll be bucking at the county fair Amarillo by morning Amarillo I'll be there They took my saddle in Houston Broke my leg in Sante Fe Lost my wife and a girlfriendSomewhere along the way Well I'll be looking for eight When they pull that gateAnd I'm hoping that Judge ain't blind Amarillo by morning Amarillo's on my mind- Amarillo by morning Up from San Antone Everything that I've got-Is just what I've got on I ain't got a dime-But what I've got is mineI ain't rich-But Lord I'm free
Amarillo by morning-Amarillo's where I'll be

To days of insparation
playing hooky making somthing out of nothing
The need to express
To communicate
To going against the grain,
Going insane
Going Mad
To loving tension, no pension
To more than one dimension,
To starving for attention, Hatting pretention
Not to mention hating dear old mom and dad
To riding your bike miday
Past the three-piece suits
To fruits to no absolutes
To abolute-to choice
To the village voice
To any passing fad
To being an us for once instead of a them!

Hello, is this the Sheriff's Office?"

"Yes,. What can I do for you?"

"I'm calling to report about my neighbor Virgil Smith. He is hiding marijuana inside his firewood!"

"Thank you very much for the call, sir."

The next day, the Sheriff's Deputies descend on Virgil's house. They search the shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they bust open every piece of wood, but find no marijuana. They sneer at Virgil and leave.



The phone rings at Virgil's house. "Hey, Virgil! This here's Floyd. Did the Sheriff come?"



"Yeah!"



"Did they chop your firewood?"



"Yep."



"Happy Birthday, buddy!"



(Who says rednecks aren't real bright!)