Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Them hills that I come from.

Let me tell y’all a story bout them hills that I come from.


We might not clean up all pirty,
might not shine our boots up nice.
When we head straight to the bar room,
from the game on Friday night.
We like sausage in our gravy,
like Jack Daniels in our tea.
If your say that shit ain’t pirty,
well it sure looks good to me'e'e'.

No matter how you slice it,
when it’s all been said and done.
I can tell ya I’m damn prouda',
them hills that I come from.


so don’t you go a askin, me to go a shavin',
or trim'in down this hair.
Or trading in these old overalls,
for them fancy clothes you wear.

I might look a little rough around the edges,
hell I'm rough the whole way through.
but I ain’t heard none of y'all ladies a complainin',
when I’m snuggled up next to you' ou' ou',


i might not clean up all pirty,
might not shine my boots up nice,
when i go straight to the barroom,
from the woods on friday night,
i like sausage in my gravy,
like jack daniels in my tea,
if you say that shit ain't pirty,
well it sure look good to me' e' e',

no matter how you slice it,
when it all been said and done,
i can tell ya' im damn prouda,
them hills that i come from,


And for those of you that don’t like it,
who think we oughta change our ways.
who say this way of life is outdated,
we’ve gotta get with the days.

I ask you to look in the mirror,
before you start throwing stones.
As it’s easy to start judging others,
looking down here from your thrones.

but in the end we’re all different,
yet we’re all the same.
And those of y’all that don’t get that,
well it’s a crying sha' a' a'me.

And we’re just gonna keep on a livin',
the way that we see fit.
Until the good lord comes callin',
and that’ll be the end of it.

Until then go'head n’ mock us,
if that’s whatch'a need to do.
To make yourself feel better,
cause we won’t sell our souls the same as you.


We might not clean up all pirty,
might not shine our boots up nice.
When we head straight to the bar room,
from the mines on Friday night.
We like sausage in our gravy,
like Jack Daniels in our tea.
If your saying that shit ain’t pirty,
well it sure looks good to me'e'e'.

No matter how you slice it,
when it’s all been said and done.
I can tell ya I’m damn prouda,
them hills that I come from.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

I just call her the wind.

I just call her the wind.
She blows into and out of my life just as fast.
When I hit my lowest points, and need someone to help me feel again he sends her to me, to help awaken my senses, to breathe the breath of life back into my body. To give me the hunger and ambition to look for more.

But then he takes her away from me just as fast as he puts her in.
Maybe its because I’m not ready.
Maybe it’s because I’m weak.
Maybe its because I’m supposed to remain a lost soul, floating through this world meeting and helping other lost souls along the way.

And these angels are just sent to me and my greatest moments of weakness to help me feel again.
But gone just as fast as they show up.
And I just call her the wind.