Mississippi University for Women
-EXCELLENT DOCUMENTARY "Who is Bozo Texino?"-
Appearing soon in a thrift shop near my house.
Hey, look...
over there.
It's Frank Sinatra
sitting in a chair...
and he's blowing perfect smoke rings
up into the air.
SERIES B, THE RITZ. Some shares will be on permanent display at the new Alamo Drafthouse in the Ritz.
There are no shares of Series B stock left in the vault. The rest are sitting somewhere on Tim League's desk in a box.
His desk is like the end of Citizen Kane They may as well be Rosebud.
Series C could happen, but don't hold your breath.
Bozo Texino is ridin' the rails
from Meteor City to the peyote trails.
He goes to your soul and
he tells you wild tales.
On the side of a boxcar
a man made of chalk,
he's alpha-omega, out for a walk.
He's a son of the stars
and a brother coyote
as he walks in the desert
and looks for peyote.
Bozo Texino is ridin' the rails
from old Santa Fe to the white cotton bales.
He goes to your soul
and he tells you wild tales.
He gets in your body
and then runs your mind.
He takes you out travelin'
just to see what he'll find.
He's the different drummer
and he never dies.
He's one with the land, the sea, and the skies.
Bozo Texino is ridin' the rails
from the roof of the White House to the Mexican jails.
He goes to your soul
and he tells you wild tales.
If your mind is made up,
and you cannot roam,
don't look at that boxcar, don't ever leave home.
Don't howl at the moon, don't let yourself cry.
Just remember who lives while we have to die.
From Mescalero to the high vapor trails,
he talks to your heart
and he tells you wild tales.
Bozo Texino is ridin' the rails.
Anything that is not a mystery is guesswork.