The Duke Died in June My parents raised me the best they could I grew up strong and I did some good When I was a baby, there was a man on the moon When I was little, “The Duke” died in June I learned that people live, and some others die …and summers meant Rhubarb pie in all my fifty years… The war in Nam ended and it was none too soon “The Last Camel (he) Died at Noon” The President, he told a lie He resigned, gave Ford a try Nixon was pardoned, don’t know why …and summers meant rhubarb pie, in all my fifty years… Elvis was dead, and Mother cried A space shuttle launched, and SHE fell from the sky NASA gave it another try Reagan was shot, but he didn’t die ….and summers meant rhubarb pie in all my fifty years… A volcano erupted and blanketed the Earth Female workers, finally paid their worth The Berlin Wall came tumblin’ down Houston, Jackson and Prince now gone The stock market rose, and the twin towers fell The world got sick while the Earth got well Dad and brother, they both died And, I watched again as Mother cried Just like she did for Lady Di ….and summers meant rhubarb pie In all my Fifty Years… When I was a baby, there was a man on the moon When I was little, “The Duke” died in June I learned that people live, and some others die …and summers meant Rhubarb pie …and summers meant Rhubarb pie Ya…summers meant Rhubarb pie! In all my Fifty Years… Copyright Tonia Allen Gould 2020 - All Rights Reserved
“Little Rose” released on Spotify, Apple Music, Deezer, YouTube, etc.
My song, “Little Rose” by The Pits released on Spotify and various other media outlets. “Little Rose-Demo,” was produced by my ridiculously talented composer/singer/songwriter friend, “Doc” Fred Gortner of @reallythepits. Lyrics are posted below. I just wanted to say I’m sorry (in advance) that I couldn’t write a more uplifting song for all my friends during a global pandemic. But, “Little Rose” is a story I had tell, and one that may resonate with many.
The thing about good stories, is that other people glom onto them and want to tell them too. (Thanks, Doc! I’m forever indebted🙏 ) “Little Rose,” <spoiler alert> is a heart achingly tragic song with a profound bridge on Fred’s slide guitar with some wonderful resolve at the end.
This EXACT same feedback from at least three people resonates with me most: “It’s hauntingly beautiful.” We agree, but clearly we are biased. The bridge music for “Little Rose” was picked on Fred’s 1932 Jessie string guitar (see photo on this post). The rest of the song was produced on his Cedar top Goodall acoustic. All vocals on the demo are Fred’s.
Little Rose I remember the hours of silence, the days that were filled with dread Little girl hopin’ and prayin’, that her Mama wasn’t layin’ there dead Summer rains pelting the trailer, storm winds howl in the heat Little girl layin’ by her Mama, who’s all bloodied up and beat Mama wore her bruises like childbirth, just something she had to get through Three children came out like clockwork, but nothing there that she’d undo She didn’t have no education, no skills to call her own Just another small town girl, tryin‘ to reap the life that she’d sown She wondered why… her Mama never left him Wondered why she never left home ‘til one day her poor Mama told her Don’t ya know, I stayed here for you… My Little Rose? Papa spent his life on a barstool, always knew he’d never measure up Took his pleasure from other folk’s women, found solace in the bottom of a cup His daddy did the same thing before him, grand-daddy carried the brunt of the blame A long slew of men going nowhere, each bearing the same damned shame Neighbor’s dog starts barking, when Papa stumbles in late at night Little girl covers her ears, while her Mama puts up another fight But then the trailer soon goes silent, and Papa walks back out the door She watches as her daddy steps over, Mama layin’ like trash on the floor She wondered why… her Mama never left him Wondered how Mama took his blows ‘til one day her poor Mama told her Don’t ya know, I stayed here for you… My Little Rose? My Little Rose ` She dreamed about… what her life would be like To leave the trailer and break the mold She swore her life… was gonna be different Better than her momma’s…. ten-fold Many years… took me back to that trailer, my Papa’s been long since gone My mama don’t have a pot to piss in, but little girl, she had it all wrong Watchin’ Mama out back with the chickens, pinning laundry to the line Home was all Mama had to give me, her HOME it ‘stood the test of time She wondered why… her Mama never left him Wondered how she stayed there at home Mama knew what my Daddy was doin’ …but her damn pride never left her alone Always wondered why… Mama never left him When the storm winds howled in the heat ‘til one day her poor Mama told her Don’t ya know, you made this home for me… My Little Rose?
(copyright 2020 by Really The Pits, All Rights Reserved.)
Work in progress song lyrics that intentionally objectify hot country men who drink whiskey, wear cowboy hats, drive tractors, own Beagles, and smell like summer and sweat.
I’ve been writing new lyrics to a country song. At this point, it’s just words although I’ve been toying with a melody in my head. The song takes me back to my youth and my Hoosier roots back in Northern Indiana “When…” as Randy Travis once sang in his “Storms of Life” song, “Love was just a country girl, who lived on down the road.” In any case, I’d be delighted to hear what you think!
A Cool Swig of Water He was whiskey on the rocks or a Thermos of iced tea He was four on the floor to his fishin' hole He was John Deere, a back forty, and an ATV He was Salt of the Earth; someone Mama could trust! He was tractor and trailer, and gravel and dust CHORUS He wore boots and flannel with a farmer’s tan He was a cool swig of water, and he was my KIND OF MAN But he was like a worn-thin tire on a beat-up truck Down to his very last leg with luck Barstools kept him a sitting duck With Wild Turkey, and WILDER women… He was summer and hay bales, and sweet and salty sweat He was a pitchfork to the heart and a night I can’t forget He was a dash of remorse, mixed with a pound of regret Drove me crazy with that bandanna tied around his neck CHORUS He wore boots and flannel with his farmer’s tan He was a cool swig of water, and he was my KIND OF MAN But he was like a worn-thin tire on a beat-up truck Down to his very last leg with luck Barstools kept him a sitting duck With Wild Turkey, and WILDER women… He wore a ten-gallon hat on his tall, broad frame He was a cool swig of water and MY KIND OF MAN! He drank whiskey on the rocks or a Thermos of iced tea He was four on the floor with a Beagle on his knee He was backhoe and Bobcat, THE RIGHT MAN FOR ME. CHORUS He was boots and leather with a farmer’s tan He was a cool swig of water and MY KIND OF MAN But he was like a worn-thin tire on a beat-up truck I was looking for love, he was looking for a good (5 second pause) luck Man oh Man, he was my sitting duck Slide across the bar, Mister-Part-of-My-Plan Mister Cool Swig of Water Mister-MY-KIND-OF-MAN!
Copyright ©Tonia Allen Gould 2020, All Rights Reserved.
Reverie Way out back is a tire swing, hanging low from a pepper tree Swaying wild with the winds of memory A Coker Classic whitewall from a beat-up '57 Chevy Gamboling in time with my reverie An old turquoise truck, ambling down a long, dirt lane Windshield wipers on repeated refrain A four speed transmission, and a transfer case Deep-etched lines carved into a seasoned man's face A cracked vinyl bench seat, and windows rolled down Gravel dust and Autumn leaves on the back roads to town Grandpa taught me what mattered long before time took hold Showed me asparagus grows wild in ditches, alongside the road Told me home wasn't a place where a person should carry their load Tomatoes were best heated by summer, eaten fresh off the vine Never answer someone's greeting with a simple "Hi" or "I'm fine." A Pabst Blue Ribbon or a Thermos brimming with iced-tea Packs of cheese and crackers, but only Pepsi for me Ruffled hair from rough and calloused, working-man's hands Wet whistles and hums from the weathered mouth of a strong man And, chain-smoked Pall Mall's snuffed out in a Planter's Peanut can Grandpa taught me what mattered long before time took hold Showed me asparagus grows wild in ditches, alongside the road Pay your dues, never take more than you're owed Every day doesn’t have to be something big and grand Get down off your truck, and lend a helping hand No one knew what that old tire meant to me Where my own kids swung out back, wild and free Grandpa was there rooted as firmly as a pepper tree Tethered in time, on a Coker Classic whitewall off a '57 Chevy Grandpa taught me what mattered long before time took hold Showed me asparagus grows deep and wild, alongside the road And there was “No sense in talkin' once your temper's been blowed” When you're with your kind of people, you’re never bored And there “Ain’t no harm in praisin’ the Lord.” No one knew what that old tire meant to me Way out back where our kids swung wild and free That old man was tethered in time, and always there with me Hanging low from an old pepper tree, swaying wild in the winds of memory A Coker Classic whitewall from a rusted out ‘57 Chevy It was a Turquois truck, ambling down a long, dirt lane Grandpa honkin’ his horn, whenever he came A cracked vinyl seat, windows rolled down Back roads, and bygones left behind us on the way into town No one knew what that old tire meant, but me. TA GOULD 5/19/2020