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Friday, August 30, 2013


For the best effect, please be sure to enjoy watching, in "FULL SCREEN" mode, my homemade amateur video recording of ME (!), performing this original composition, "DRY VALLEY WALTZ", written by Idaho cattle rancher, Wayne Nelson, one of the original Cowboy Poets of Idaho, while accompanying myself strumming simple chords "by ear" on my Yamaha G-130A classical guitar.

I recorded this on Sunday 21 February 2010, while residing in Washington, D.C. at the Ol' Soldiers' Home.

AAAAAND, furthermore - - - ,

It happens to be a TRUE story of a genuine Western romance!


Words and Music by:

VERSE # 1:
The Depression was on,
The Country gone wrong,
But, he hand dug a well
And sold cream.
From the city, she came,
With no more than her name,
Still too young to be
Scared of her dreams.
In a little cafe
Down Montpelier way
Where she worked
Waiting tables at night.
And the coffee he drank
Would've filled a stock tank.
You could tell it was
Love at first sight. 

And they danced to
The Dry Valley Waltz
Where the moon
On the junipers shines.
And they blamed all their luck
On an old REO truck
On the night of
The Dry Valley Waltz. 

VERSE # 2:
Well, his face turned to red
As he hawed and he hemmed
About asking her
Out to the dance.
When she smiled her reply,
He said, "Let's go for a drive.
I could show you
Some things I've got planned."
He bought curtains of lace,
For he showed her the place,
And she laughed
When the porch step fell in.
When they kissed by the stove,
She said, "It's time to go,
'Cause at seven,
The dance will begin." 

VERSE # 3:
Well, the truck
Wheezed and slowed,
With a mile left to go,
So, they left it to
Cough and spurt steam.
As they strolled hand in hand,
The noise of the band
Came from over
The hill clear and clean.
So, he dodged some red ants
And he asked her to dance,
And they waltzed 'neath
The stars bright and clear.
And a punch bowl and friends
Were the only loose ends
To an evening
They always held dear. 

VERSE # 4:
Well, the townsfolk remained
For a while and complained.
Then they drifted
Back home from the hall.
For the bus had broke down
Just south of Georgetown,
And the band
Never showed up at all.
Oh, but out in the sage,
Where the music still played
And the crickets
Kept time with no fault.
Boots and slippers did glide
Through the Idaho night
On the night of
The Dry Valley Waltz.

Boots and slippers did glide
Through the Idaho night
On the night of
The Dry Valley Waltz. 


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