Vase seems to have run its course. And there don't seem to be as many songs being posted as in the past. So, I thought I'd throw up another.

I've been co-writing with a fellow named Bill Osofsky lately. Actually, mostly what I'm doing is music for Bill's lyrics - which is a new thing for me. I've done many, many co-writes. But have never simply been handed completed lyrics with no melody whatsoever. On some I do a tweak here and there or replace a line or two, but on others, I leave them as they are. Done a dozen in the last 4 weeks. (Thinking of maybe doing a CD of all of them and calling it "Overdue Bill").

Most of them are aimed at "commercial Country" (Nashville). But one hit me as a Prine type lyric. I grew up as a fanatical John Prine fan. His 1st album was my songwriting bible. When I decided to concentrate on "writing commercial" I had to stop listening to Prine - or I would end up "writing Prine".

So I was tickled when this one popped up. Surprisingly Bill had never listened to any Prine. I did some tweaking to make it even more Prine-like and then did the best I could to emulate the sound from his first album in the production of this.

I hope you enjoy it. As always, comments encouraged.


the cops came one night and they spoke to his mom
how could a bartender let daddy drive
they buried his old man on the very same day
as that innocent family of five
all his dad left was a mem'ry of yelling
and watching mom hold ice to her lip
some bottles of gin, so mom's drinkin' again
and a black stetson hat, too big to fit.

and he felt so alone
he had no one at all
he wished he could just disappear in the wall
shattered and shaken
and this close to breakin'
ya can't feel no smaller than that
like a five gallon head
in a ten gallon hat

Many years later he sat at a bar
sunday night, by himself, drinkin' shooters
a little too drunk, a little too loud
talkin' 'bout the waitress' hooters
she stopped dead in her tracks, put down her tray
you could've heard a jaw drop in that place
she stared, she glared, her nostrils flared
she threw a pitcher of beer in his face

(repeat chorus)

took a good look at himself that night
the whole town was talkin', he knew they were right
now he's ten years sober, a good woman to love
raisin' two boys and thanking the good lord above

(chorus 2)
that he's not all alone
he's standin' up tall
before you can walk
you gotta learn how to crawl
he's given up hateful
for growin' and grateful
he's no longer where he was at
a five gallon head
in a ten gallon hat

Here are the RealTracks:
RealTracks in style: ~1123:Bass, Acoustic, CountryWaltz Sw 140
RealTracks in song: ~823:Guitar, Acoustic, Fingerpicking Country Waltz Sw 140
RealTracks in style: ~825:Guitar, Acoustic, Strumming Country Waltz Sw 140
RealTracks in song: 1298:Pedal Steel, Rhythm CountryWaltz Sw 140
RealDrums in style: NashClassicWaltzSw^1-a:SideStick, HiHat , b:Snare, HiHat

Have fun.