Everyone is writing songs inside their heads Waking up from sleeping in their unmade beds I cleared out space in springtime to make room for the fall I wrote you words of kindness, but I won’t speak them at all The kudzu choked the hillside…

I was in deep at second, my heels in the outfield - full count No one left out on the bases, familiar faces, the heat breaks a cloud Hands red from the clay dirt as I held up my glove to my faaaaaaace It smells just the way I remember, the…

Maybe I’m someone Or maybe I’m not A tree falls in the forest And the roots start to rot And my lady she loves me Whether I like it or not I’ve got all that I need I’ve got all that I’ve got It’s too early for peaches And it’s too late…

Mountain Song Went to the city from Arkansas I wanted to be everything that I saw Don't you believe the nice things you hear People in the city'd lick the fat from your beard Red red river where nobody goes So full of iron it's like…

You were so clever You had us all in your hands We’re seeing thru you You never had any plans It could have been better You never gave us the chance You’re being untrue But baby it’s all in the dance What’s wrong with that Im…

EMPTINESS It seems to be very difficult for people to be critical of the culture in which they are enmeshed within. There are all sorts of mechanisms that dominant cultures use to further socialize and entrench us: patriotism /// nationalism…

a little break beat from my digitone. This is turning into "learn the digitone" month.

This is yesterday's track, back to the original melody with cross-picked guitar added (oy! that was tough). I see the template for a proper song now, and over the coming days I'll add to this and I hope to end up with something...

Maybe I’m someone Or maybe I’m not A tree falls in the forest And the roots start to rot And my lady she loves me Whether I like it or not I’ve got all that I need I’ve got all that I’ve got It’s too early for peaches And it’s too late…

Mountain Song Went to the city from Arkansas I wanted to be everything that I saw Don't you believe the nice things you hear People in the city'd lick the fat from your beard Red red river where nobody goes So full of iron it's like…