DESPERATE MAMA
I originally intended this blog to be accompanied by my first video recording of me playing one of my new songs, but I am momentarily technically challenged, and have not yet found a suitable time to sit down with the flip camera. Soon, dear readers.
I do, however, have happy news to report, and that is this:
I am one of 10 finalists (out of nearly 600) for the Folks Fest Songwriting Competition here in Lyons, CO this year. So on August 13th (Friday the 13th of all days), I get to play two songs on the main stage to kick off the festival which later includes sets by Ani DiFranco, John Prine, David Wilcox, and more. I am giddy. The better I do in the contest the more money I make, and the winner gets: cash, a custom guitar, and an invitation to perform a full set at next year's festival.
In lieu of the aforementioned video recording, I have decided to post the lyrics to one of the two songs I submitted for the competition. The story behind the song is this: My assignment was to write a song with some lyrics that were stolen from a conversation had by others. In other words, I had to eavesdrop and steal lyrics.
After a few weeks of not overhearing anything of interest, I heard one woman remark to another, "As we say down in Texas, 'have a good day and don't kill anyone.'" My first thought was, "weird." My second thought was, "interesting." And the song was born. A dark song, to be sure, but it helped get me into the finals.
Desperate Mama
Round about here in the Texas sun
We say "One day at a time and don't kill anyone"
But I got a little problem and it's growing inside
Way down yonder underneath my pride
I sold that away so long ago
In the back of a truck down in El Paso
I never even learned his Christian name
But I heard him calling Jesus just the same
Now I'm in a pickle and I'm in a bad way
Can't keep the thing could never give it away
Me and that boy shoulda never been
I wanna get it done, but I know it's a sin
Desperate mama, desperate mama
Got a lot of worries not a whole lot more
I'm praying to God but I swear he's blind
Got me looking for a reason or a simple sign
Can't be living with myself now either way
It ain't what you have it's what you're giving away
Now I'm in a pickle and I'm in a bad way
Can't keep the thing could never give it away
Me and that boy shoulda never been
I wanna get it done, but I know it's a sin
Desperate mama, desperate mama
Got a lot of worries not a whole lot more
I found a way it won't hurt I'm told
Gonna meet my maker before I grow old
I love you Papa and to all my friends:
Don't you do what I done this is how it ends
I was in a pickle I was in a bad way
Couldn't keep the thing and couldn't give it away
Me and that boy shoulda never been
I had to get it done but I know it's a sin
Desperate mama, desperate mama
She don't worry 'bout a thing no more
Desperate mama, desperate mama
She don't worry 'bout a thing no more
