Every month, I'll share the lyrics to one of my songs. This month, I've chosen "Feels Like Home," the title track to my CD. I wrote it about a trip to Mississippi I took back in 2008.

Feels Like Home

Found myself alone in Mississippi
Two flights and a droptop got me there
Finally found the shacks of Hopson Pixley
Among the relics of farming and prayer

I knew by the modest fee
There'd be no five star
Forget the pillow mints
They're not supplied
More precious are the vise grips for the shower
It's not the chicken when I'm talking southern fried 

From every corner down to here
A visitor would call
And sometimes leave a token on the wall
Commit a story to a page
Or find a little space
And autograph the fireplace 

Newsprint struck a chord without warning
A concept and a seed with rapid growth
Dollars, common sense
I heard their whispers
In a second, I chose
Ignored them both 

I'm standing in a barn
I face an altar
With a giant on a steeple painted blue
Symbol of the twenties and its hardships

A heyday out there waiting, overdue


Previous songs:

Nowhere In Sight
Day At The Beach
The Only One




















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