Feb 2022 folk girlwithguitar atlcountry oldtimey appalachian
Well, life got way way in the way this February. I started this the first week and then had to put it away and handle some things. I really wanted to get it done and in before the month was up, and here ya go!
In my head this has a badass mandolin solo and some smoking Stanley Brother's style harmony, but none of my buddies were available on short notice to add one.
I had the idea for this song when doing some installation work up on Lake Kiawah in South Carolina for this mega rich lady. Her home was in this big gated community that was so big her house was a twenty minute drive from the front gate. It had it's own school, grocery store, fire department, etc, and was surrounded by little worn out rural farm houses and a town with two lights (which is where I stayed because an Airbnb in the community was $500 a night). We were told the majority of the homes in the community were just vacation homes, which blew my mind because the three I installed in had walk in closets bigger than my entire house. It got me thinking about how these folks moved to this rural town (most of their plates said California or New York), bought up all the lake front property (on a silly TVA Lake), brought all their own amenities, and drove up the property values, while the families that had been farming the area for generations were being priced out. The whole deal made me feel icky and I thought up the first line on the way home. I'm pretty pleased with it.
Monuments to their arrival
Rival Babel for our sky
Adding weight to our survival
And drag us under by and by
Like the stones they pull from under
The bones and bodies of our mothers
And as the land gives way to plunder
From these blue hills they will fly
But these mountains
They been breathin
Long before your father's set their bones
down in the ground
She's a hallowed
harried Mama
Holding her children safely in her blue ridge mountain crown
From far off bustling places
The misjudge our peaceful land
They swallow up her riches
Right out our weathered hands
But there's a darkness in her hollers
That can't be tamed by the dollar
And in the face of greed and squalor
She calls her children here to stand
But these mountains
They been breathin
Long before your father's set their bones
down in the ground
She's a hallowed
harried Mama
Holding her children safely in her blue ridge mountain crown
@kerriwinter Feb 2022
life does have a way of getting in the way but I'm glad you got this one out. Powerful message in a sideways way which I really love
@mattoxic Feb 2022
You're a poet.
Lovely chords as well.