My Friends Say.....

My friend J tonight told me I was a crisp writer, which is a huge complement being that he's an  actual writer, and one that's much better than I. 

This is my attempt to write something that isn't so crisp, but rather an explanatory writing of a song I wrote. How "self-absorbed" is this!

The song is "A Few Weeks Away" and it is a retelling of one of my trips on the road. 

First verse deals with a few days before tour, in which my friends and I were too cheap to buy beer and stole it from a neighbor who kept all of his/her booze outside, in a refrigerator. We were young and desperate, and I'll say, maybe our thoughts were disparate at the time. Anyway, we were successful that night and had a great time completing our goal.

The chorus highlights my gratefulness of the getaway-which came a day later-us leaving a suburban neighborhood-reaching out to the uglier parts of the world- which we have never seen. We were not regretful of this, rather very happy and satisfied to be away, traveling interstates that most truckers called their 9-5.

The second verse picks up in an unknown area. Where we're there shopping-living-trying-to-get-by-as most people are, yet, not feeling the sense of home as they felt. Sure, we judge, and laughed, and went on our way. 

Second chorus picks up with us in the van, sure of objective, yet completely unsure of victories. Why were we on this tour? Did traveling like carnies in a van, playing music to no one who actually cares about this actually make sense in the long run? Not only were our creative insides falling apart but so were our hopes of life at home becoming more unrealistic, or actually, more realistic. The line "bet you whole 9 bucks" sums it up quite well. We could put 9 bucks against anything on that tour and we'd win. Be it, success, money, food, a safe ride home.

What we did have, though, was freedom, independence from true responsibility, no real guidance towards the future. Although, in a funny side-note, we did rush home as fast as fucking possible. Our guitar player went so far as to do lines on coke the entire way just to get home first.

So this is where the song comes to an end, unfulfilled, yet, completely fulfilled, and still young, without scars. So we thought.

All of this may be completely true or  a completely wrong interpretation on my part. I have no idea, I WAS NOT THERE, all I know is that this is the song that might help you understand the story. See below.

myspace.com/thecherokeeband.com