During this era, Van Zandt’s tours often traced a boomerang: starting in Colorado, moving south to Houston, and then east to Nashville and back. Houston was a problem because that’s where Townes could score heroin. Soon, his summers in Colorado turned into retreats from his addiction. In 1970, Townes and Fran divorced as his behavior grew more erratic. The next year, he moved in with a dealer in Pasadena, an industrial section of Houston, where he had unlimited access to his drug of choice. Van Zandt started to sell off all of his possessions, including his record collection, and to avoid friends and family.

Fran convinced Townes to visit J.T. in the fall of 1971. He didn’t show. Sensing that something was wrong, she waited by the phone all day. Finally, the call that she was dreading came: Van Zandt had overdosed. He was in the hospital, calling out her name. When Fran arrived, she was told that Townes had died again, twice this time, in the ambulance. His condition was still critical, but she kept him conscious by talking to him throughout the night.

To celebrate his most recent recovery from death, Van Zandt jokingly named his sixth record The Late Great Townes Van Zandt. Eggers claimed that he was responsible for the title, meant to poke fun at Townes’ dead career. Really, though, he was as successful as he had ever been. The Late Great sold steadily and featured two songs, “If I Needed You” and “Pancho and Lefty,” that would come to define his career. Van Zandt had survived, even prospered, and was eager to continue his lucky streak. He looked forward to his seventh album with anticipation. “The next one will be a hit. The next one is likely to be a hit,” he predicted.

He had reason to be confident in the songs on Seven Come Eleven. Townes often claimed that he was only a vessel for lyrics that really originated elsewhere. They would come to him in flashes or in dreams. This may have been true sometimes, but was more likely a bit of modesty mixed with mythmaking: the humble poet, divinely inspired. However he arrived at his songs, Van Zandt was always meticulous. “It seems a lot of people in Nashville write by the phrase, or by the line. As opposed to writing by the word,” he told journalist Paul Zollo for the 2003 book, Songwriters on Songwriting. “A lot of my best songs are where every single word is where it’s supposed to be.” He was influenced by Shakespeare and Dylan Thomas but cited Robert Frost as his most important touchstone. As in Frost’s best poems, Van Zandt’s lyrics are profound in their simplicity.