Children of Children

Author’s note: This tune was inspired by the song “It Hurts To Face Reality” by Lefty Frizzell, from the movie Tender Mercies, one of my favorites – Robert Duvall, displaying his amazing talents, which won him the Best Actor Academy Award for 1983. My song is slow, traditional country, with (I imagine) steel accompaniment. A.S.  

 

MOMMA had, a little girl, when she was, a little girl.

And it made for an interesting tale.

As Daddy learned, to make a buck, I came along, to join the fun.

A humble house, a special time, a growing love.

 

Chorus:

We were the children of children, you could see it in their eyes.

They learned it as they went along, though they never compromised.

We never wanted nothing, and we always felt their love.

We were the children of children, growing older, growing up.

 

Sometimes Dad, he worked the night shift, back when I was in grammar school.

I’d come home for lunch on my Stingray, we’d shoot baskets in the afternoon.

And Sis she was a beauty, no one smarter or aware.

Raised by the hands of two young lovers more determined than they were scared.

 

Chorus:

We were the children of children, the pictures they don’t lie.

They learned it as they went along, though they never compromised.

We never wanted nothing, and we always felt their love.

We were the children of children, growing older, growing up.

 

Bridge:

And Sis she would turn fifty today, if all was right with life.

But the Lord took her home at thirty-nine, and you know that don’t seem right.

And Momma and Daddy grow old together, though it’s rare that people do.

And the river may rise like tears in your eyes, but they’re determined to see it through.

 

Repeat chorus:

We were the children of children, you could see it in their eyes.

They learned it as they went along, though they never compromised.

We never wanted nothing, and we always felt their love.

We were the children of children, growing older, growing up.

 

 

 

© 2012 Andrew Spradling

First published Shelton College Quarterly

HER SINS AND HER SAVIOR

Author’s note: This, to me, is a special song, one that I am about to actively pitch (opening a whole new area of rejection). It emerged simply from the idea or thought of breakups — so common — yet with no one in particular in mind. We just see way too much of it, and always wish, hope, and pray for people to find the love and happiness we share. Thanks for reading, oh, and the photo gallery is added and will grow as I go back and scan from pre-digital, A.S.           

GONE, in a hopeless sea of pain, looking for some kind of comfort, that will make her whole again.

Her man, he was blinded by a touch, he was blinded by a feeling, he was blinded by new eyes.

Chorus:

So she reached for the bottle. And she reached for the Bible.

But she lives, somewhere in between, her sins and her Savior.

2nd Verse:

Days, well they slowly ticked away, there were some that were so wrenching, she couldn’t brush the tears away.

And the nights, she just lay there in the dark, wondering what she did to cause this, wondering how to make it right.

Chorus:

So she reached for the bottle. And she reached for the Bible.

But she lives somewhere in between, her sins and her Savior.

Bridge:

She is thinking now he was bound to break her heart, so she gave up on the life that they led.

Yes the Lord gave her strength to move on, and the drink gave her courage to try again…

Instrumental:

Repeat Chorus:

So she reached for the bottle. And she reached for the Bible.

But she lives somewhere in between, her sins and her Savior.

Yes she walks each day somewhere in between, her sins and her Savior.

Completed 12/20/10

© 2010 Andrew Spradling

The Maze

Author’s Note: One of the aspects of song writing I enjoy is the freedom to borrow someone else’s life for a theme, or, better still, a blending of stories and emotions. A small percentage of this has anything to do with me. This is another fast-paced song. I plan to one day have links to the music, I’m just looking for the right accompaniment. A.S.

SUBMERGED in the passion of the eyes that look upon me

with a love that lasts forever, and forsaken by no other,

Till you go away and figure out that, men will kiss the ground you walk on.

I have done the same but they are happy, strong, and rich and famous.

Now you want to be alone and search the world for something better,

I will gladly let you go ’cause misery kept is bound to fester.

But I wish you’d known me when, I was young and couldn’t bend,

love was free and easy then, but time moves on and now feel I’m…

Long past being pretty, I’m long past being what I was,

time can change the way you stand, but it cannot break the willful man

So be the girl you want to be, see the things you long to see,

travel roads and burn the bridges, fan the flames that whisper “set me free…. ,”

We travel mazes, to pass through doors.

And we don’t know the meaning of compromise.

We want a prize that begins with trust.

But we’ve never paid the price.

Submerged in the sorrow of a wife who seeks another,

a future black as coal, and a love that won’t recover.

So take the door, take the train, leave as fast as you can leave,

we’ll be like all the others, take the easy way, and give up on our dreams… .

We stumble through mazes, to pass through doors.

And we don’t know the meaning of compromise.

We want a prize that begins with trust.

But we’ve never paid the price.

© 2004 Andrew Spradling

Eddie’s Song

Author’s note: Another song, this one in honor of yesterday and the event at New York’s Central Park. A.S.

 

In this life it’s easy for a friend to slip away,

Even though it’s a crying shame.

A card, a letter, man, just a simple phone call,

Always means so much to me.

 

And if you fall my friend, well I’ll be right there and I’ll try to catch you.

No matter where I am right now.

And if it’s family Lord, and you’re in trouble,

I’ll be right by your side.

 

Eddie was a good man through and through,

A kinder man was hard to find.

He left his hometown for a city, oh so far away,

Another artist gets his way.

 

His parents, sisters, brother, they all really missed him badly.

And they longed for his returns.

And his visits home were always a great occasion,

They really loved him so.

 

Well many years went by, and his life went on,

But true happiness was never found.

And like so many, his health struck him down…

The cure was never found.

 

 

 

To die alone in some dingy semi-private,

On the bad side of town.

His mother and a niece were the only ones to come and bid farewell.

 

The family that he knew, they coward from the germs that killed him,

Though they knew they were immune.

Maybe they were just too busy, maybe they were just too dizzy,

Anyway, they did not come.

 

I don’t think the tears they shed were really painted,

And I think that their sorrow was true,

But were they shameless Lord, or simply simple,

Or is fashion a clue.

 

If you’re out there Lord, if you really hear.

Would you lend an ear to this one prayer…

If it takes me months to die, tell my loved ones please don’t cry,

Be brave and come and say good-bye before I die…

 

© 1989 Andrew Spradling

Letters

Author’s note: Just a reminder that songs often resemble poetry. This is one of the first songs I wrote that was worth repeating. A.S.

       

Joblessness brings loneliness and creates a space of time,

And minutes turn to hours in the framework of my mind.

Boredom overtakes me as I look for things to do,

Trying to stay busy to avoid the thought of you.

 

I find some letters boxed up, in a messy closet shelve.

Letters linking youth to age and lovers to myself.

Letters ranging hundreds, dating back to early teens,

Letters that bring back those crazy childhood scenes.

 

Chorus: Letters that helped me get through college.

And letters from girls of loves gone bad.

Letters that made me miss the times we used to share,

And letters of the times we never had.

 

Letters from a girl I thought always was too young,

She’s grown up now and beautiful and happy on her own.

Letters when I stayed down south from a girl that I had loved,

Her innocence is reflected in the pages that she wrote.

 

Chorus: And letters from my big sis in college,

Her boyfriend he always sent them too.

Their letters always gave me the strength to carry on,

And the strength to find my way without you.

 

Cards and letters from the times I took some nasty spills,

You’ll never know the way the words from friends could help me heal.

Letters from a girl I’d met just once so long ago,

our letters cross the country but our paths will never know.

 

Chorus: And letters from the girl I thought I’d marry,

The plans we made a long time ago.

The schemes and dreams to meet at night and hold each other tight,

And if we could we’d never let go…

We thought back then we’d never let go…

As always we finally let go… 

 

© 1985 Andrew Spradling

The Lesson’s Never Learned

Author’s note: As I said in “About,” this blog will include original song lyrics, which in my mind is often poetry. A phone call from a great friend yesterday reminded me of this song and his often-used quote, “There’s some things you just can’t dwell on.” That’s why, Derek Watson, if it is ever sung by someone other than me on the porch, you will receive half the royalties. Cheers. A.S. 

I’ve been thinking hard every night, worrying ’bout the way things might be,

Getting high with the fire flies, blending with the stars.

Trying to see into the future, wondering how I got so old,

And knowing that this little town can’t hold me.

Chorus:

But there’s some things you just can’t dwell on.

Sometimes you stumble and fall.

Some people must live and learn, and forget about the past.

But sometimes the lesson’s never learned.

All my friends they know what they’re doing,

They planned their lives in the right few steps.

But 9 to 5 and a wife and a home won’t do me.

Where do you turn when you feel alone,

When the whole damn world has got you down,

And you’re weary of the comforts of the bottle.

And the last thing that you want to do, is take the walk to your empty bedroom,

You tell yourself you’re not always so smart…

Chorus:

Mistakes are made fairly often,

Sins committed rarely forgotten,

Seasons change and life goes on, and tomorrow’s another day,

But the memories of lovers never fade away.

Lovers come and lovers go, years go by and dreams grow old,

And some of us are not so bold to keep searching…

But I’ll keep hoping till my dying day, to find what it takes to make me happy,

And pray this time I don’t let it slip away

Chorus:

But there’s some things, you just can’t dwell on.

Sometimes you stumble and fall.

Some people must live and learn, and forget about the past.

But sometimes the lesson’s never learned.

I’ve been thinking hard every night, worrying ’bout the ways things might be,

Getting high with the fireflies, blending with the stars…

Andrew Spradling, Derek Watson

© 1995