It was old Woody that lured me with
Dust Bowl Ballads and so much more
Telling stories of a West
That I'd never heard before.
I was with the Okies as
They travelled down the road
Got a new hero from
The Ballad of Tom Joad.
Then on to Steinbeck
Faulkner, Williams, Hemingway,
Until dreams of America
Filled my teenage day.
The whole world exploded with
The advent of Rock 'n' Roll
And once again Americana
Captured my heart and soul.
I learned of Jimmie Rodgers
Hank Williams, Ernest Tubb,
All founder members in my
Exclusive Country Music Club.
Dylan, Van Zandt, Steve Earle,
Guy Clarke, and that's how I found
The huge variation in that loose
Genre, the Country Music sound.
It's been a part of my life
A very constant friend
Too late to change now and so
They'll be with me until the end.
I listened to those story tellers until
They influenced the way I write my verse
So it's my American Dreams
For better or for worse.
A voice of gravel wrapped in velvet
Bringing a warmth to every song,
Laid back and gentle as
Every track moved along.
He looked so tall and lanky in
Photographs of his early years
With the trade mark white Stetson
Perched so precisely above his ears.
Rainbow at Midnight
Walking the Floor Over You
Have You Ever Been Lonely
Filipino Baby, Seaman’s Blues
Somewhere in every track
I seemed to hear a smile,
Simple songs of the time
With no trickery or guile.
I think his music still as fresh
As those fifty years ago or more
When I first listened to the music of
Ernest Tubb, The Texas Troubadour.
In Nashville, all those tourists visit Broadway every day;
They buy those Dolly Parton posters there;
But the record shop of Ernest Tubb won’t seem the same no more—
Sing “Adios” to Ernest Tubb—he used to walk that floor.
Inside there’re old brown photographs displayed upon the wall
Of Jimmie Rodgers, and Roy, and Kitty Wells;
On his radio show he helped some kid name of “Elvis” get a chance—
Sing “Adios” to Ernest Tubb, and his Western-Country dance.
Across the street is Tootsie’s Lounge, where beer and memories flow;
Nearby, the Grand Ole Opry used to play—
Where “E. T.” helped Loretta face that famous microphone;
Sing “Adios” to Ernest Tubb—he’s the best friend Nashville’s known.
He was Lone Star lean and lanky, with a voice like Texas sand—
And he used electric guitars, `way back when;
Instead of wasting tears tonight, let’s everybody sing—
Sing “Adios” to Ernest Tubb…he made that dance floor swing.
Hurricane,
Insane—
Bettie Page,
Road rage—
Osama,
Oboma—
JFK,
Blown away—
Thin ties,
Tie dyes—
Ernest Tubb,
Beelzebub!
WMD,
Wannbe—
John McCain
Still a pain—
911,
Twenty-four seven—
JonBennet,
Turned away—
Poetry,
Geometry—
James Dean,
Was a queen—
Hurricane,
Insane—
Bettie Page,
Still the rage.
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