songs about roving, rambling and plain hard luck & photography from the other side …
but I could hear the ghosts singing on the other side

I left this town with the throttle open wide / The heater was blowing but nothing inside / Could ember the darkness or swallow my pride / When I left this town I was running (Jeffrey Foucault)

all them things that seemed so important vanished right into the air

But I remember us riding in my brother’s car / Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir / At night on them banks I’d lie awake / And pull her close just to feel each breath she’d take / Now those memories come back to haunt me they haunt me like a curse […]

catch him when he’s strayin‘, teach him how to walk that line

It was out at the crossroads, down round Willow bank / Seen a Buick with Ohio plates behind the wheel was Frank / Well I chased him through them county roads till a sign said Canadian border five miles from here / I pulled over the side of the highway and watched his taillights disappear […]