Saturday, March 5, 2011

A Few Lines

Grandpa Charlie smoked and drank whiskey
But he died in '43
Nobody like him in all my kin
Until my brother and me
He died in a small town so far back
They didn't know what hit him maybe heart attack
That was a drag on my Grandma you know
She never really forgave him for that
Most every year on Christmas Day
My Dad and me go down where he lay
I don't know what kind of man he'd be
But he'd like my brother and me
"My Brother and Me" - Bruce Robison

This kind of simplicity in writing is what I strive for. I've tried and tried to write something like this and I can't quite do it. It's amazing how much talent some people have. I want to write about my family like this, but I can't do it. This is inspiration to keep going. 


  1. Maybe you can't write like that about your family because they don't live like that!! You gotta have the dirt to write the song. Come on over. I'll share some family with ya ;-)

  2. See - when I think of you writing I think of something like this.
    Maybe the gap is smaller than you know...