Small Town USA
by Gregg Metcalf
February
8, 2002
I
work in a factory in small-town USA
I
listen to the radio most everyday
I
love to hear the singers as they hit the charts
with
all their songs about broken hearts
I
work hard at my job just to make a living
I
won't get rich and I won't make a killing
I
come home dirty, full of sweat and dirt
my
back aches and every muscle hurts
So
I'd go crazy if I couldn't hear em sing
bout
cheatin' and drinkin' and everything
Like
the man in black and Folsom Prison Blues
or
like the Possum singing I just can't choose
So
I saved some money and planned a little trip
to
Nashville, Tennessee where they made the hits
It
took a lot of doing just see the old Ryman Hall
But
with my hat in hand I stood there in awe
Then
suddenly it happened as I was standing there
a
mournful sound came through the cold night air
I
began to hear all the stars that once played
all
those nights on the Grand Ole Opry stage
As
I listened to em sing I couldn't stop movin’
I danced with joy as I heard Charlie Louvin
Conway
Twitty, Johnny Cash and of course ole Hank
with
tears in my eyes I stood there and gave thanks
You
producers and record giants and such
need
to remember who listens and buys their stuff
I'm
a working man whose saved for every tape
let
em do it their way, forget all your debate
Cause
I work in a factory in small-town USA
And I
listen to the radio most everyday
I
love to hear my singers as they hit the charts
with
songs of love or life and broken hearts
2 comments:
Yet another good poem Gregg, get them published.
Yvonne.
Thank you! I would love to.
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