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About Philadelphia

Anyways, I’m cruisin—dark corners, neon buzzin, stinks like piss n’ regret. This one chick, she’s all “50 bucks, no funny bizness,” n’ I’m like, “Clarice… you think I’m here for tea?” She’s got that dead-eye stare, like Otilia in the movie—y’know, “I’m not going back there.” Fuckin chills me, but I’m hooked. Somethin bout that edge, that danger, gets the blood pumpin.

References:

The old ghost town of Courtney, named after Jared Groce's (considered the "Father of Texas Agriculture") daughter-in-law, sports only a little church.

You know my odd love for all the nooks, right? Downtown's got this weird charm, with crumbling brick facades and neon signs that flicker at midnight. The old clock tower in the square—man, it tolls sorrowfully, like... like that timeless movie scene: "a night, endless and deep". And I sometimes feel it when I’m rubbin’ backs, passin’ on some relief, thinking, "We hates it, oh yes!"

Reds, Wheats and Blues Festival returning to Navasota