A COWBOY COMMERCIALHere comes Joe Buck, six-foot-one of eager erotic muscle and rarin' for action ... Midnight cowboy, midnight son of three blonde tarts, white midnight stud. Slow talking, slow walking Joe. Big boy moving in on midnight city, nightmare New York. Midnight sa-lesman, selling wares to whores, love to the unlovable, sex to the sexless, eternal youth
to the old. Shedding his lifeblood light on all the darkened world ...
‘The compulsive appeal of a rattlesnake’ - Sunday Times
FIRST
Everybody's talking at me.I don't hear a word they're saying,Only the echoes of my mind.People stopping staring,I can't see their faces,Only the shadows of their eyes.
SECOND
I’m going where the sun keeps shiningThru’ the pouring rain,Going where the weather suits my clothes,Backing off of the North East wind,
Sailing on summer breezeAnd skipping over the ocean like a stone.