Song Bird

An Old-time Country Music Man

He's an old-time country music man with a million tales to tell 
He's had a little taste of heaven and more than his share of hell.
 
He's played in all the honky-tonks all around this here ol' town 
And he's been down that lonesome road traveling this country all around. 
He's brought smiles to many faces and he's shed his share of tears
His heart and mind are filled with memories of all of those by-gone years. 
 
He's an old-time country music man with a million tales to tell 
He's had a little taste of heaven and more than his share of hell. 
 
There's some dreams of those younger days that have lasted and come true 
Along with all those other things he knows he will never do. 
He has two things that he treasures his ol' guitar and his wife 
For they are the heart and soul of this ol' country singers' life. 
 
He's an old-time country music man with a million tales to tell 
He's had a little taste of heaven and more than his share of hell. 
 
Now the honkytonks are closed and the road's made it's final bend 
Now his old guitar gathers dust and his life's come to an end. 
Now his loyal fans are crying and laying flowers near his head 
Beneath the earth that he loved he lays in his final bed. 
 
He's an old-time country music man who stood tall before he fell 
Now he sings for God in heaven and he's seen his last of hell.


A MUSIC CITY TRILOGY

GOIN’ TO THE OPRY
 
Goin’ up to Nashville town
Try to sell a song or two
‘Cause I’ve finally found something
That, I really want to do.
 
I’ve been waiting a few years
And feel that my time has come
If I can’t get any breaks
Then, I guess I’ll make me some.
 
I have met a bunch of stars
Who said, they would take a look
Read my typewritten sheets
And the pages of my book.
 
I know they must be busy
But, wish they’d take the time
For I’m sure, that they could
Make songs of my words of rhyme.
 
I suppose most of them don’t care
‘Cause they’ve already made theirs
Have forgotten what it feels like
At the bottom of the stairs.
 
I haven’t spent, as much time
As a lot did, breaking in
But, I started kinda late
Don’t have all those years, to win.
 
So, I’m going to the city
Where country music’s king
To find someone to read my words
To find someone, to sing. 

THE MUSIC ROW BLUES
 
Got to shake this lowdown mood
Of these ol’ Music Row blues
I’ve got blisters on my feet
And the soles worn off my shoes.
 
My voice hoarse, about give out
And my knuckles’re red and sore
My ears, so tired of hearing,
“We’re not taking any more!”
 
I started with the big houses
Now, I search each darkened hall
Eyes strain to read the nameplates
Figger that I’ll hit ‘em all.
 
I talk to other “artists”
Who chose this hard way of life
Some have been around for years
Some, gave up their kids and wife.
 
We all think, “I will make it!”
And we must believe it true
But the sad, hard fact remains
There’s so very few, who ever do.
 
Some take their words and music
To their cold grave in the end
Still hoping fame and fortune
Is just waitin’ ‘round the bend.
 
To make it in “the business”
Sometimes, it costs your soul
When you lose, might win that game
Played on Nashville’s Music Row. 

MUSIC CITY FRIENDS
 
Seems I’ve got a million friends
But, not one I could call
To ask, to help, to hold me up
When I feel I’m ‘bout to fall.
 
I’ve held my heart and soul out
Tried to be what a friend should be
But, everyone is so suspect
Here, in this Music City.
 
Nobody trusts another
Especially, if you have a need
Everybody wants to, “Screw ‘em all!”
But who planted that seed?
 
I think it’s the ones who have “it”
Who think they have some “class”
But they're the ones with nothing
Who let their true friends pass.
 
Don’t you ever ask a favor
Or let them know you really care
For to find “real” people in this town
Is really kind of rare.
 
Don’t be sincere and honest
Don’t say what you really mean
‘Cause all of those “high rollers”
Will put what “they” want, between.
 
I thought I‘d found one friend
Said, I’d be there, always
But trying to be a nice guy
Is not something, that pays.
 
I don’t need fame and fortune
I don’t need to be the best
All I really need is friendship
To pass, the Music City test.
 
I guess I’ll have to give it up
There’s no reason more, for trying
Because here in Music City
All that works, is a good lying.

Graphic: Poppies, watercolor by Vera Tracy, Jonesborough TN

---