“It’s late in the evening, the sun has gone down. The neighborhood is quiet but I hear the sounds.” I spent the weekend working on It’s a Lonely Christmas Without You. I somehow managed to delete my project files and had to recreate it, which was a good opportunity to make some changes and I’m pleased with the outcome. I hope your loved ones are near to you this Christmas. If not, wherever they are I pray they’re safe and sound.
I took a few days off from my day job and am wrapping this project my sister from another mother suggested, a song for the Bluegrass Grill. I heard my mother talk about the Bluegrass Grill and how it was a popular meeting place when she was young. I did some investigating and found a menu online and wrote the lyrics over a few days. The tune came easily. The challenge was in writing the parts and figuring out how to convey the idea that cruising to the Bluegrass was a rite of passage for generations of teens. Thanks to Audrey for the suggestion! You can listen to it here and look for it on my next CD which I’m working on now…
I’m terribly impatient. I want to release these as I get them recorded and don’t have anything keeping me from doing that. Freedom is a beautiful thing. I’ll eventually pull them all together into a CD format and hopefully manage to keep a few songs a surprise.
My family is from Ashland Kentucky and my Granny and I had an especially close relationship. She was an amazing and entertaining lady. She would talk about how beautiful Kentucky was and how she ached to return to the land of her roots.
When she was in the assisted living facility she was a hoot. I was visiting with her one afternoon and she was telling me about what was happening with the lady she shared the room with and somehow we started talking about Kentucky and she said, “Oh, what I wouldn’t give for some KY bourbon. Just a taste would be sooo good.” and I said, “Granny, I can take care of that for you right now. There’s no good reason why you can’t have yourself a little swig of bourbon if you want it.” You could see her eyes just light up at the thought and then she said, “Oh, no…no. I just couldn’t,” “Yes, Granny, yes, you can. It’ll only take me a moment to run to a package store and get you some!” She refused. It was a funny moment that stuck with me. So this song is for her. I tried to capture her passion and love for the state and I accidentally made up a word, which I can fix in editing – I’m just not sure I want to.
Give me bourbon on my deathbed
fill my cup, before I die.
In that cup, I place my solace and the
secrets of my life.
Kentucky bourbon on my deathbed
when the bells begin to chime
Oh the devil comes a callin,
If I drink before it’s time.
Give me God that sweet refreshment
it’s like horses running wild
through the bluegrass fields of heaven
as I cross the great divide.
One last kiss of pure delightment –
one last taste upon my tongue,
for this land has been my heaven,
Kentucky bourbon take me home.
Kentucky bourbon take me home.
I’m terribly impatient. I want to hold back until the whole CD is finished, but I can’t wait to share when I think I’m onto something. I guess the great thing about being an indie musician/producer is that you don’t have someone telling you not to do something. So here it is. I typically close out my shows with Two Days Gone as it’s a natural fit. I love to sing and play this song live. And I admit to being somewhat twisted. When I wrote this song, it was with the intent of writing the “complete” country-blues song. It had to have certain elements (I think I even collected a list of these words before finally writing the lyrics), trains, a gun shot, lightning and a shack, red clay roads, Alabama and Memphis, family drama, someone in jail, someone in heaven, a bar, a hotel and a twenty.
The photo is by Pat Henson and can be found here: www.flickr.com/photos/80297647@N00/2275352946
Two Days Gone by Kally O’Mally
I got crippled back in Memphis when Bessie
shot me in the knee.
Lightnin hit our run down shack and I was
begging God to please, take me now I’ve had enough
I can’t take another day. So I packed it on up and took
the south bound train.
Whoa Momma’s gone to heaven.
Bessie’s all locked up in jail.
Papa ain’t been seen nor heard from for the
past fifteen years.
I’m sleeping here in this cheap hotel.
Girls in short skirts hanging out in the stairwell.
Down on my luck ain’t got nothing,
nothing to sell.
I’m two days gone, so all alone, no
dial tone on the telephone,
holes in the wall, no one to call, no one at all.
So I made my way to a bar named Sam’s
Deep down in southern Alabama.
Where the land is red and there’s fools a plenty
bought me some beer, spent the last of my twenty.
Gonna find me the reaper he’ll have plenty to sow.
Gonna pack it all up, it’s the end.
Gonna pack it all up, it’s the end, end of the road.