hey! pardon me, i'm pickin' flowers here

well, here i am, at the local public library, but the end is in sight! i just found out last night that mom will be picking up my computer monday!! my computer, it died. but! mom is helping me get a new one with my old drive as an accessory! yea!!!! i'm delirious and just can't hardly stand myself. wahootee-hoot!

in a bit, i will walk uptown and to the second annual johnny cash fest (hey, pardon me, i'm pickin' flowers here). the story goes that he played in a concert here, in starkville, years and years back and then, decided to pick some flowers from someone's yard. he was arrested and jailed for it. so now, there is a call for pardon for his offense of pickin flowers.

Johnny Cash's "Starkville City Jail"
Well, I left my motel room, down at the Starkville Motel,
The town had gone to sleep and I was feelin' fairly well.
I strolled along the sidewalk 'neath the sweet magnolia trees;
I was whistlin', pickin' flowers, swayin' in the southern breeze.
I found myself surrounded; one policeman said: "That's him.
Come along, wild flower child. Don't you know that it's two a.m."
They're bound to get you.
'Cause they got a curfew.
And you go to the Starkville City jail.
Well, they threw me in the car and started driving into town;
I said: "What the hell did I do?" He said: "Shut up and sit down."
Well, they emptied out my pockets, took my pills and guitar picks
.I said: "Wait, my name is..." "Awe shut up." Well, I sure was in a fix.
The sergeant put me in a cell, then he went home for the night;
I said: "Come back here, you so and so; I ain't bein' treated right."
Well, they're bound to get you,
cause they got a curfew,
And you go to the Starkville City Jail.
I started pacin' back and forth, and now and then I'd yell,
And kick my forty dollar shoes against the steel floor of my cell.
I'd walk awhile and kick awhile, and all night nobody came.
Then I sadly remembered that they didn't even take my name.
At 8 a.m. they let me out. I said: "Gimme them things of mine!"
They gave me a sneer and a guitar pick, and a yellow dandelion.
They're bound to get you,
'cause they got a curfew,
And you go to the Starkville City Jail.