Love is easy, when you’re livin’ a lie.
Love is easy, when you’re showin’ your good side.
Oh but love? It breaks your heart.
Oh but love, it breaks your heart.

And when the chips all fall down,
And there’s no one around,
And you realize it was all just a lie …

Oh but love,
It’s a start.

Love is easy, when you’re livin’ a lie.
Love is easy, when you’re showin’ your good side.
Oh but love? It breaks your heart.
Oh but love, it breaks your heart.

And when the chips all fall down,
And there’s no one around,
And you realize it was all just a lie …

Oh but love,
It’s a start.

Love is easy,
When you’re livin’ a lie.

You know things can’t stay the same,
For you to make it, through that gate.
You and I, we’re not the same.
So why must we play that silly game?
Find yourself and have no shame,
Then your life will never be the same.

It’s time, for a change.
Are you ready?
Are you ready?
It’s time, to rearrange.
Are you ready?
Are you ready?

Can’t pick the time, but you can pick the place.
No need to live in a rat race.
You and I, we both have names–
Names not given by the human race.
I found mine, now you find yours.
Come on in, through that open door.

It’s time, for a change.
Are you ready?
Are you ready?
It’s time, to rearrange.
Are you ready?
Are you ready?

When you’re ready, take my hand.
We’re surely headed for the promise land.
Follow me, we’ll make our way.
By the way, what’s your name?

My grandaddy, he liked to play with cards.
He drank Budweiser and he drove fast cars.
He had one eye and a crooked leg.
He ran the roads with a foot of lead.
He made us biscuits and homemade soup.
And he died doin’ what he wanted to.

Country livin’, it tastes so good.
Biscuits and gravy, cooked over wood.
Wouldn’t pick the embers out if I could.
Country livin’, it tastes so good.

Learned to drive when I was just thirteen.
An old Chevy, with three on the tree.
My daddy took me into our back field.
I dumped the clutch and started steerin’ the wheel.
It was that same year that I went to work–
Drivin’ nails and shovelin’ dirt.

Country livin’, it tastes so good.
Biscuits and gravy, cooked over wood.
Wouldn’t pick the embers out if I could.
Country livin’, it tastes so good.

When I was a boy, I used to play guitar.
An old Roy Rogers that was fallin’ apart.
It had five strings and not a one in tune.
It made no difference, I still felt cool.
Then every Sunday, we went to church.
And every Monday, it was back to work.

Country livin’, it tastes so good.
Biscuits and gravy, cooked over wood.
Wouldn’t pick the embers out if I could.
Country livin’, it tastes so good.

Who says true love can’t start,
In a little white lie?
It got me there anyway.

Some times it takes a lie,
To get on down to the truth.
And it got me there anyway.

And I don’t know that I lied.
Just told you how I saw it,
Through crazy, love-struck eyes.

Through crazy, love-struck eyes,
Tell me, what is a lie?
But the truth,
In a different way.

And I don’t know that I lied.
Just told you how I saw it,
Through crazy, love-struck eyes.

Through crazy, love-struck eyes,
Tell me, what is a lie?
But the truth,
In a different way.

I found a way to your heart.
Might not ‘ve been that straight,
But it got me there,
Any way.

Worked his hands,
To the bone.
Never knew when he was comin’ home.
But he knew she was where he couldn’t be.
She was the backbone of a family.

When times grew hard,
We joined hands.
We all believe in the promise land.
Well I grew up,
And made my stand,
But deep in my heart, I’m a family man.

When times grew hard,
We joined hands.
We all believe in the promise land.
Well I grew up,
And made my stand,
But deep in my heart, I’m a family man.

Well I might roam,
Far, far away.
And my road may be a different way,
But I know home is always there for me,
Because I belong to a family.

Just need a piece of land to myself,
And a whole lotta time.
Sit around, watchin’ the days go by.
Have you ever heard the birds sing?
The earth is their home.
One day baby, everything’s gonna be alright.

Do you ever wonder what tomorrow brings?
Lord knows, you’re not alone.
But it really doesn’t matter.
Every day is its own.
One day baby, everything’s gonna be alright.
One day baby, everything’s gonna be alright.

Life it surely ain’t what it seems–
Here today, gone tomorrow.
Some live it like a dream.
Some live it full of sorrow.

Spend some days full of tears,
Just can’t wait for tomorrow.
Facing all our biggest fears,
Can’t be wishin’ it was over.
Got too many smiles to make,
Too many hearts to break,
Way too many songs to play,
So I know I must stay.

I finally walked out on that beach.
I knew a ship would never come for me.
And all that money I stored up in the bank,
And all those memories I never managed to make,
Were gone, on the tides, of time.

We can hold one another,
That’s just fine.
But we can’t stay together all the time.
If we don’t swim alone, we will find,
We’re gone, on the tides, of time.

I found a river to set me free.
I let the water rush over me.
And all my sins were runnin’ down the stream.
And all those memories, that were never meant to be,
Were gone, on the tides, of time.

We can hold one another,
That’s just fine.
But we can’t stay together all the time.
If we don’t swim alone, we will find,
We’re gone, on the tides, of time.

They say that love can set you free.
I guess it helps you swim upstream.

Worked his hands,
To the bone.
Never knew when he was comin’ home.
But he knew she was where he couldn’t be.
She was the backbone of a family.

When times grew hard,
We joined hands.
We all believe in the promise land.
Well I grew up,
And made my stand,
But deep in my heart, I’m a family man.

When times grew hard,
We joined hands.
We all believe in the promise land.
Well I grew up,
And made my stand,
But deep in my heart, I’m a family man.

Well I might roam,
Far, far away.
And my road may be a different way,
But I know home is always there for me,
Because I belong to a family.

When I first began to play guitar, I was no different than anyone else; I wanted to learn to play the standard tunes and slowly graduate to lightening fast intensity. But that approach didn’t last. Eventually, I relaxed, put aside the tablature and began to just play. And that’s when I really found myself in the instrument. If you’ve read my bio (or suffered through it, perhaps I should say), then you know that, ironically, I went through the same progression with the saxophone–first learning to play the instrument, then to read music (for years and years), then turning towards jazz and improvisation, where I really found myself as a player. Well, I guess I never learn, because, when I began writing music I went through the same progression–yet again!

When I went back and listened to my first creations, I was elated (at the fact that I had actually written something), but I was also bothered by how simple my music was. I knew I was a better player than what was ending up on tape or in my songs, and that bothered me. But, in the end, I had so much reverence for the process of songwriting, that when a song “came to me,” I just left it alone. Each time I caught myself trying to sneak back in to complicate things by beefing up chord progressions or melodies, I would stop myself. In some strange way, I really didn’t feel like I had the right to change a song that just popped into my head; nor did I, in some ways, feel like I could take the credit for it. (There’s your weird artistic statement for the day. Now go barf.) But as I came closer to the point of sharing my tunes, I was once again bothered by the fact that I might be perceived as a terrible player, or a pitiful songwriter. I mean, what were people going to think or say when they heard me singing over three chords? (Ever heard “He Can”?)

I think this is where the brick wall comes in for a lot of artists–music and otherwise. When you’re more concerned with impressing yourself and others, it’s easy to lose sight of the underlying essence. It’s kind of like the “can’t see the forest for the trees” theory. In my writing career (like writing/writing, as in words) I’ve known plenty of people who could be great writers, if they would only put down the thesaurus, stop trying to impress everyone with a robust vocabulary, and let style and purpose outweigh their flawless grammar. It’s just impossible to think about all these things while producing a work of art. In my opinion, too much thinking equals not enough feeling; and not enough feeling produces souless music. And no, “souless” is not a word, so put down your dictionary. Today, we’re just going to write it how it comes out.