Aw shucks, Nashville. Pulled into a $40 hotel, rode the bike down to Broadway, checked the buskers and crazy people, walked into Roberts Western World, and within seconds I was grinning ear to ear. Chicken-pickin to beat all, one-string tuner solos, double-bass paradiddlin, bologna frying on the grill, pretty tattooed girls throwing beers around (cause aspiring singers gotta make a living somehow), and the sound America makes throwing empty bottles in the trash. Love ya or hate ya, well actually Nashville, I just cant help but love ya.
Posted on: Mon, 19 May 2014 00:29:45 +0000
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