For Zoe

Well, I’ve thought about this awful hard, and I think I’ve got my answer. If I could be anywhere right now, I’d be on the rooftop of the high sierra, tradin’ songs with Zoe Muth. 

I think Zoe’d love it there. I even asked her down once before--right after her Fort Worth show. She smiled at me a little strange and she didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no.

Yeah, I’d sure love it if she came. To hear her voice light up ol’ Starlight in that heartfelt southern twang... I know the folks would love her here.

And if they didn’t well, the border’s just a hop away. I hope she makes it to Terlingua soon. We could cut down south and hop the stream, just two old souls and twelve worn strings and a thousand songs to sing and the desert moon.

We both know I ain’t said much to you but that don’t mean that I won’t keep on tryin’. Cause every song I hear by Gram and Emmylou makes me want to sing along beside you...

I wake up out in my single-wide. I greet the mornin’, grab my pen and pad and start writin’ to Zoe. I don’t know quite where to start, so I tell her like it is (and what I say comes straight from my heart).

I’m so sure you’d love it here. All the dirt and dust and folks and such, the gravel roads and beat up brush and the way the wind picks up, oh, I can hear you here...

Cause you’re too country for Seattle and I’m too damn desert for Dallas. But if the stars align or if we play our cards right, I’ll see you on the porch out front ol’ Starlight.

I want this desert air to breathe. Yeah, the ghost town is where I wanna be. At the boathouse drinkin’ brews and passin’ guitars with miss Zoe Muth.

Talkin’ river with the rats and shootin pool’ and listenin’ to Townes Van Zandt. They say Seattle’s got its own Emmylou, well the ghost town’s got me here and I’m waitin’ for you.

Yeah, viva Terlingua and Zoe Muth.