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G. C. Smith / Blog

FIRE IN THE HOLE

Happy March, y'all... Been a pretty tough start here in the land of Alan Jackson... and not just because of the weather... a family crisis and too much work and not enough focus time to really finish anything despite a couple of decent starts... In any event, what follows is the first/(real) rough draft of something from various lines in the first episode of JUSTIFIED, which I am just now discovering (and trying to keep from binge-watching...) Hope everyone else's creative juices haven't been frozen up, too... More later (he says hopefully)... g =+=+=+=+= FIRE IN THE HOLE (c) 2015 - G. Smith (BMI) ---------------------------------- In the hills of eastern Kentucky, You better be good if you can't be lucky; And I was pretty good underneath those lights, Pounding the ground every Friday night. I had what it took to make it as a pro... Fire in the hole... But no college called my senior year, So I decided to volunteer, Two tours of duty in the Middle East, Earned stripes on my sleeve, but caged the beast. Still, it was better than digging out coal... Fire in the hole... Something burns deep down inside; A glowing ember that you can't hide. It's better to burn out than it is to rust; I'd rather be ashes than dust... I'd rather be ashed than dust. I came home and couldn't find a job; Even the banks are too broke to rob. I never thought of myself as an angry man; Maybe I'm too close to understand. Cash in your dreams, but don't sell your soul... Fire in the hole.... Fire in the hole.

STEVE EARLE & BRANDY CLARK TALK SAVING COUNTRY MUSIC...

From, of all places, savingcoutnrymusic.com... Happy Presidents' Day, y'all... g =====*===== Steve Earle says it wasn’t his politics that held him back from greater mainstream country success. It was more the oligarchy who was afraid of artists who call their own shots. Steve Earle is not the only one talking about saving country music lately. Brandy Clark amidst her Grammy Awards success said recently, “My name is said in the same breath as people like Kacey [Musgraves] and Sturgill Simpson, Ashley Monroe — like [we’re] saving country music, you know?” http://www.savingcountrymusic.com/steve-earle-brandy-clark-talk-saving-country-music

Makin' Stuff Up...

Happy Groundhog Day, all y'all... Here's an interesting read from American Songwriter's January/February edition on the state of current country music songwriting ... It may NOT be a surprise, but it sure does a decent job of laying out the problems du jour... http://www.americansongwriter.com/2015/01/makin-stuff-writing-influence/ And another good link supporting old-school country is savingcountrymusic.com - rants and raves as appropriate... I should have a couple of posts of things in progress here in the next couple of days for anyone interested in co-laboring on a project or three... In the meantime, keep an eye out for ol' Ned Reyerson... ...if you see him more than once, I'd check your calendar again... and again.. and again... Till the next time... keep 'em tight and keep 'em in tune... g

New Lyric - REIDSVILLE

Been listening to a lot of Jamey Johnson, Eric Church, Haggard, Cash, and (old), Skynyrd, and, well, this just sort of fell out... REIDSVILLE (c) 2014 - G. Smith (BMI) ----------------------------------------- They slammed that door behind me, And threw away the key, Won't no-one ever find me, I never will go free. Like every man who's in here, I didn't do the crime, But I'm paying for my sin here, With my freedom and my time. A jury of twelve angry men, A judge and half a chance, Put me underneath this pen, And stripes here on my pants. There's barb wire out my window, And bars upon my door.' My wife says she's a widow, And won't visit any more. They say the sun comes up Over these south Georgia hills, But it might as well be midnight In this hell they call Reidsville. I turned twenty-one in prison, And to my family's shame, I've ended up with nothin', But this number for a name And they say the sun comes up, Over these south Georgia hills; But it might as well be midnight, In this hell they call Reidsville. It might as well be midnight, In this hell they call Reidsville. They slammed the door behind me, And they threw away the key; Ain't no one gonna find me, And I never will go free. ================= As always, your thoughts, comments, critiques, and such are welcome, and if anybody's interested in a co-write, holler...

SINCE YOU WENT BACK TO AUSTIN

Another lyric from the 2014 April Poem-A-Day (PAD) Challenge on Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides blog - complete the phrase "Since (blank)" - fill in the blank... you get the idea... Here's my attempt:

SINCE YOU WENT BACK TO AUSTIN (c) 2014 - G. Smith (BMI) ---------------------------------------------------------- Since you went back to Austin, My world has come apart; Shattered into pieces, Just like my broken heart.

What you see in Texas, And cowboys I can’t tell; Since you went back to Austin, I’ve been living here in hell.

Since you went back to Austin, I spend my sleepless nights, Staring at the ceiling, Wondering how to make things right.

Was it something that I should’ve done? Was it something I forgot? Is there anything that I can do? My guess is probably not

Spring has come again here to the mountains Even though you thought it never would; Days have come and gone and I’ve stopped counting, Even though I thought I never could.

Since you went back to Austin, My world has come apart; So many shattered pieces, Just like my broken heart.

What you see in Texas, And cowboys, I don’t care, Since you went back to Austin, I hope you’re happy there.

I AM A PILGRIM

Well, April is National Poetry Month, and I participate in (okay, play along with), an annual blog challenge to write a Poem-A-Day (PAD) - you find this blog at writersdiges.com under Poetic Asides.

Any way, sometimes these prompts turn into song lyrics... either that very day, or eventually... what follows is in response to today's prompt to write about "a voyage",,,

Here's my attempt - a folk / mountain gospel inspired piece I call...

I AM A PILGRIM (c) 2014 G. Smith (BMI) —————————- I am a pilgrim, Long on my way; Step by step, And day by day. With joyful song, Mile by mile, I’ll reach my destination in a little while; I’ll reach my destination in a little while.

I am a pilgrim Long on the road, Helping my brother Carry his load. Taking my sister By her hand; Together we’ll journey to the Promised Land; Together we’ll journey to the Promised Land.

I am a pilgrim, At the edge of the sea, Charting a course, To what’s to be. Study the tides; The moon, and North Star, Follow the sunset, no matter how far; Follow the sunset, no matter how far.

I am a pilgrim, Long on my way, Step by step, And day by day; With a joyful song, Mile by mile, I’ll reach my destination in a little while, I’ll reach my destination in a little while.

I’ll reach my destination…

JUMP ON IN...

Spring fever?

Who knows... but this song came together during my run yesterday morning... in about 35 minutes... all I hadda do was add a line or two to finish the chorus and edit a little (still needs a little more of that, I'm sure).

The idea kinda launched itself when I caught Little Big Town's "Pontoon" video with the lake party-boaters... and I've been listening to a lot of Eric Church lately (who is one of the two best, current, country writers/artists, in my humble opinion - the other being Jamey Johnson...)

Enny whey, as always, any thoughts, comments, and suggestions are welcome... ----------------------------- WE JUMPED IN (c) 2014 - G. Smith (BMI) ------------------------------------------------------------------- It was almost June, they said it was too soon, Standing on the river’s edge; You looked at me and we counted to three, And stepped out off of that stone ledge. We climbed out laughing and splashing, That water was cold, cold, cold; But a spark jumped between us on that spring day, That lit a fire in my soul.

When we jumped in; Would those waters be too deep? Would we be up to our knees, up to our necks, Or over our heads when we made that leap? No-one could tell us nothing, We wouldn't sink ‘cause we knew we could swim; And we never gave a thought about treading water, We just jumped in; Yeah, we jumped in. We spent that summer arm in arm, Or at least we were hand in hand; Winding up at the river on Friday nights Sitting together on the wet sand. One thing led to another, You know the way that those things do. How would we tell your mom and dad Why we missed your curfew. When we jumped in; Would those waters be too deep? Would we be up to our knees, up to our necks, Or over our heads when we made that leap? No-one could tell us nothing, We wouldn't sink ‘cause we knew we could swim; And we never gave a thought about treading water We just jumped in; Yeah, we jumped in. That was how many years ago? Ain’t it funny how time flies by? That baby’s got my smile and nose, But there ain’t no doubt she’s got your eyes. I think you think she’s the only thing, Keeping us together, My answer’s clear, but it depends on you And if you wonder whether… When we jumped in; Were those waters way too deep? Would we be up to our knees, up to our necks, Or over our heads when we made that leap? No-one could tell us nothing, We wouldn't sink ‘cause we knew we could swim; And we never gave a thought about treading water We just jumped in; Yeah, we jumped in. --------------------------

THIS WOULDN'T BE THE FIRST TIME

Here's one that I've been wrestling since last spring... amazing what being iced in can do to the creative juices, huh...

As always, thoughts, comments, and critiques are not only welcome, but encouraged...

Y'all stay warm... and watch your step...

g

--------------------------------------------------------------------- THIS WOULDN'T BE THE FIRST TIME (c) 2014 - G. Smith (BMI) ---------------------------------------------------------- You church-hug me, And you don't say you love me like you used to; Sure, it bugs me, But I'm not sure what to say or what to do. Am I just being petty, Or is something going on? This wouldn't be the first time You told me I was wrong... But you church-hug me.

You rarely kiss me; And I wonder if you miss me when I'm not around. But Baby, this is me, Is there some one new that you have found? Am I just being petty, Or is something going on? This wouldn't be the first time, I hoped that I was wrong... But you rarely kiss me.

You won't hold my hand; And I don't understand why things are strange; This wedding band Is proof that nothing's changed... Am I just being petty, Or is something going on? This wouldn't be the first time, I prayed that I was wrong, But you won't hold my hand...

And you church-hug me...

Happy New Year' Y'all

Just posted a song I wrote with Herb Ford several years ago about an annual event in Brasstown, North Carolina...

The Lowering of the Opossum at Clay's Corner (http://www.clayscorner.com/new-years-eve.shtml) - and Clay has promised to try getting on local radio up there in the Murphey-Hayesville-Young Harris non-metro-plex - who knows, it might even break out to Ashville and Franklin...

Enny whey... give a listen and have a have fantastic '14, y'all...

NEWS OF THE DAY

I follow a couple of blogs, and one, Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides (http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides), posts writing prompts throughout the year (weekly on Wednesdays, and daily durning April - National Poetry Month - and November - as "chapbook challenge"). I'll use these as springboards for writing lyrics and/or songs (to varying degrees of success). I'll start posting the prompts (and some results) for those who may want to "play along." What follows is one from last month - write about "the news of the day..." Y'all's thoughts, comments, critiques, or co-writer queries are more than welcome. g ================== THE LATEST EDITION (OF THE FINAL WORD) (c) 2013 - G. Smith (BMI) -------------------------------------- I come in from work and turn on the TV, If it bleeds it leads, or so it seems to me. They can't do nothing with the mess in DC, And no one acts like they know why this has to be. Have you heard... The latest edition of the - final word? Have you heard... The latest edition of the - final word? Jack and Diane are getting divorced, Fighting over custody - it's ugly, of course. And old Mr. Bailey who who works down at the bank, Was seen leavin' this evenin' from the county drunk tank. Have you heard... The latest edition of the - final word? Have you heard... The latest edition of the - final word? BRIDGE: What... Can you say... About the news... Of the day? Twisters in Kansas, fires out west, Where is all the good news? Can't they give it a rest? This may never go above the fold on top of page one, But there's a crescent moon just above the setting sun. The sky is clear, the stars appear, the day's almost done. And you're right here beside me, you make my whole world fun. So have you heard... The latest edition of the - final word? Have you heard... The latest edition of the - final word? Extra! Extra! Read all about it... The latest edition of the - final word... Have you heard... The latest edition of the - final word?