feeling a bit surrounded
like there’s no good way to get out
and though it’s not very crowded
I feel like I’m up against a crowd
like there’s no good way to get out
and though it’s not very crowded
I feel like I’m up against a crowd
none of it can be prevented
it can’t go away, it won’t end
and I am not going to defend it
it’s just the mess I got myself in
Now I’m riding out to Hondo
to try and save the Alamo
a last stand and one last hope
so I’m riding out to Hondo
I know you’re still loving
I know you haven’t forgotten me
And though it’s difficult to see
there’s no one on earth to set you free
so we’re counting on a light from heaven
a miracle to save the wounded
and we’ll know for sure it has happened
when the hurting comes to an end
That’s why I’m riding out to Hondo
to try and save the Alamo
a last stand and one last hope
so I’m riding out to Hondo
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When I was about 12, I visited San Antonio with my father. After visiting the Alamo, we went to Hondo Texas to visit a college friend of his. I was amazed and amused, because Hondo was such a small town — yet it was the town to which riders had been sent to get help (at least in the John Wayne movie version of the Alamo legend). Hondo didn’t seem like much of a place from which to get help. 🙂
Not your run-of-the-mill ‘my dog got ran over by a bus load of kids, while chasing my drunk lover away from my new pickup, while it was rollin’ towards the tracks on the bad side of town’ cry in my beer song.
I liked it.