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My Country and Western Song

by

Frank Blacharczyk

I want this to be my country and western song

A little twang brim of my cowboy hat hiding my eyes

tears in beers and lots of good-byes

And Iíll throw in a dash of truck with a dog and rifle

to add flavour

My guitar is my life I write songs that sound familiar

and different words that mean the same thing

My guitar is my life story it has tears in my beer tunes

Some of the strings are broken like my life

Only one string remains and

even that is a bit unsettled

I lost my first string

It was a gospel song when royalties were more

important than singing for God

Jesus was in a business suit expecting his

followers to meet their revenue target

nobody reads Godís words they are re-translated to satisfy

The second string broke

My daughter went to hell and I donít know why

She was a tornado stripping our lives

leaving our bodies miles apart

and the dead were still breathing

My third string broke

When a new friend wetted my lips and shrouded my view of

the tornadoís damage

Unstoppable tears self-pity this was becoming a something done me wrong song

My fourth string broke

My lips hugged my friend she drowned my thoughts

She was my momentary joy my past present and future jailed

My woman was lost in the debris and we rarely talked

The words dropped to the pedal they picked up speed and

I attempted to stop them but I screeched and swerved the obvious

We were apart for a long time yet we saw each other everyday

Somewhere sometime the jukebox ended

I just donít know when

I tried to plug it back in but no electricity flowed

Our music couldnít play anymore

I donít see the tornado anymore in fact I donít see my woman

If only she left me for another man

I could tell the story over and over again over many beers

with many tears and fears to many ears

I am very sure Jesus was born but

I donít know when our love was torn

When it went from real to reel

I hoped to re-wind and re-write

Iím still waiting by the phone to hear her voice say

I miss you

The fifth string trembles

Life breaks a string when you least expect it

The mind gets tired from lifting the debris

and like a puzzle searching for the right place

confused the pieces pile up with no destination

Life may play that Country and Western Song

on your jukebox leaving tears in your beers

and ears may get tired of hearing that same old song.

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