I hit the road this morning wishing I was going to somewhere like Texas, or Nashville, or some other place that was more than eight-five minutes away. Much of my time these days is spent holed up at the house typing away. When I get out, it’s golden. From time to time, an old friend …
Tag: songwriting
Paydirt and Paved Roads
Last night I learned that the term “paydirt” wasn’t invented by some overheated local sports writer who decided that the dirt underneath the grass in the end zone was dirt that paid, even though it was probably a high school game and the only payoff would have been “under the table.” It was the term for …
Where Might the Suspects Be?
Paralysis. Groping for some coherence. Doing menial chores just as a substitute for creativity, in the desperate hope that something will arise, something out of thin air or gray matter. Pairing socks. Washing dishes. Paying bills. Biding time till something, anything, happens along. He picked up his guitar, started strumming, but he wasn’t of a …
One Thing Leads to Another
Sometimes I think all the good songs have been written. Everybody’s been doing something different, applying new wrinkles, and adjusting to changing times so much that it’s gradually gotten hopelessly convoluted. I told you, baby, from time to time, but you just wouldn’t listen or pay me no mind, so I’m moving on, I’ll soon …
The Way I Do
When I was young / I went off to college / But I flunked out ‘cause I could not pass no test / My old man barely made it past fifty / And I reckon that I’ll follow his footsteps / But it ain’t gon’ be bad health that’s gonna kill me / It won’t …
The Way I Do, Part Six (Final)
Sure enough, when three o’clock rolled around, so did several high school kids. In deference to Mud Galvin’s “don’t ask, don’t tell” philosophy, he and Abel got provisionally high before they got there, and the kids apparently did the same. Abel was glad Victoria was back. She had been Mud’s significant other for at …
The Way I Do, Part Five
A stranger asked me if I knew the Devil / I told him, well, in fact, he looks like you / He told me he was no more than a lawyer / Who merely wanted someone else to sue / Or screw. Mud Galvin called at eleven, and Abel tried in vain to sound …
The Way I Do, Part Four
It took about a year to get my head straight / I drank my share and crashed into the ground / It seemed as if my voice got so damn lonely / My friends all dreaded having me around. Abel and Siri had their differences on the proper course to Cain Caldwell’s house. She …
The Way I Do, Part Three
I don’t know what I’m gonna tell ‘em / Don’t know what I’m gonna do / I might walk out that door and never come back / Open the window, jump off the roof / But it ain’t gon’ be bad health that’s gonna kill me / Won’t be red meat and pecan pie / …
The Way I Do, Part Two
My old lady found me sitting in the kitchen / I sat there chawing on a plate of ribs / She said, boy, you better stay clear of that cholesterol / It’s taking what little life you’ve got left / I said, woman, pay attention to your own self / I’m capable …
Nightrider's Lament 