No More Words

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

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Of all the parts of the country I’d been in, Texas was the strangest-feeling yet. We were due to stay three nights in a motel on the edge of Austin, the first night to sleep off the drive, the second night after the Spring Weekend concert at University of Texas, and the third night after the show in San Antonio which was maybe two hours drive from there.

My whole feeling about Texas was that beady-eyed, big-hatted men were watching me through binoculars with shotguns in their laps.

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