A few isolated cattle were huddled together in the little shade provided by vegetation parched by a long, hot summer. I waited for a sign to show me where I was, but signs are rare in some places, especially when you need them. The further I rode, the narrower the road became, and the yellowed grass began to stick out in the middle of the deformed pavement. The hot wind was blowing through the crop fields and dust was blowing in through the open windows of my car, so I hoped to arrive early enough to do the sound check and have a beer before going on stage….
Words & Music by C.Bock
Discover more from Christopher Bock
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
