I’m one of those people who has written just about anything. Novels, short stories, screenplays, magazine articles, newspaper columns, pyramid style newspaper articles, news releases, and so on.
The one thing I can’t write is a song.
It won’t come. I can’t do it. I sit down with an idea and nothing works. I’m sure it’s partially because I’m trying to include too much information. Good songs are tight, brief, and have an impact.
Before I continue, let’s be clear I’m not talking about bubble gum pop rock lyrics, (baby oh baby hey baby baby humm), or this new so-called country music that’s simply repetition and tailgates, trucks, and partying in a field.
I’m talking about songs that tell a story. That’s what we do, right? Writers want to tell a story, whether it’s a novel, or shorter as a novella, or the traditional short story. This morning I woke up to a new, rain-washed world of clean, cool air and for some reason The Wabash Cannonball came into my head.
This narrative was originally written sometime in the 1880s and is sweeping in scope.
From the great Atlantic ocean
To the wide Pacific shore
To the queen of flowing mountains
For the hills and by the shore
She’s mighty tall and handsome
And she’s known quite well by all
She came down from Birmingham on the Wabash Cannonball
Well now listen to the jingle
To the rumble and the roar
As she glides along the woodland
Through the hills and by the shore
Hear the mighty rush of the engine
And the lonesome hoboes call
No changes can be taken
On the Wabash Cannonball.
Now here’s to daddy Claxton
May his name forever stand
He’ll always be remembered
In the ports throughout the land
His earthly race is over
And the curtain round him falls
We’ll carry him home to Glory
On the Wabash Cannonball Copyright A.P. Carter
Here’s a link to the Roy Acuff version written long ago. The quality has issues, but the story is there.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i435ovKX9aE
This song (I didn’t include the two reprises at the end) tells a story about Daddy Claxton, an engineer, but it’s also filled with descriptions that put the reader in that place, something we all seek do in our writing. Sight, sound, and though the original writer A.P. Carter never mentions the sense of smell, the writing brings smoke, clear mountain air, and the humid odor of any coast in this land.
Another song I use when I’m teaching comes from the late, great Charlie Robison, who recorded The Lights of Loving County, a condensed novel. It’s the age-old story of betrayal, and ultimate justice. I wish I’d written this perfect story complete with a riveting plot, descriptions of our desolate West Texas, and an excellent twist. Loving County is the most sparsely populated county in the country.
Well, I loved a girl
She lived out in Pecos, and pretty as she could be.
And I worked the rigs on out in Odessa
To give her whatever she needs.
But that girl, she run with an oil company bum
‘Cause the diamond was not on her hand.
And he left her soon ‘neath the big loving moon
To go out and X-ray the land.
Now I sit in my car at the New Rainbow Bar downtown,
And the frost on the windshield shines toward the sky
Like a thousand tiny diamonds in the lights of loving county.
Well, l walked in that bar and I drank myself crazy
Thinking about her and that man.
When in walked a woman, looking richer than sin
With ten years worth of work on her hand.
Well, I followed her home and when she was alone
Well, I put my gun to her head,
And I don’t recall what happened next at all
But now that rich woman, she is dead.
Now I drive down the highway
Ten miles from my sweet baby’s arms.
And the moon is so bright it don’t look like night
And the diamond how it sparkles in the lights of Loving County.
But she opened that door and I knelt on the floor
And I put that ring in her hand.
Then she said, “I do” and she’d leave with me soon
To the rigs out in South Alabam’.
Well, I told her to hide that ring there inside
And wait ’til the timing was good,
And I drove back home and I was alone
‘Cause I thought that she understood.
The next night an old friend just called me to wish us both well,
He said, he’d seen her downtown, sashaying around
And her diamond how it sparkled in the lights of Loving County.
Well that sheriff, he found me out wandering
All around El Paso the very next day.
You see, I’d lost my mind on that broken white line
Before I even reached Balmorhea.
Well, now she’s in Fort Worth and she’s just giving birth
To the son of that oil company man.
And they buried that poor old sheriff’s dead wife
With the ring that I stole on her hand.
And sometimes they let me look up at that East Texas sky.
And the rain on the pines, oh Lord, how it shines,
Like my darling’s little diamond in the lights of Loving County.
Copyright, Charlie Robison
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uewrSagO-r4
Studying the lyrics of songs is an excellent exercise in creative writing. These artists have distilled the essence of a story into wonderfully crafted bites. Last night the Bride and I fired up our new old-school Marantz stereo and Craig turntable. We’ve returned to our analog roots and listened to old vinyl for hours and absorbed a heartfelt world of music about life, survival, hearbreak, and real country.
The following lines and brief verses are wonderful, descriptive images for the listener.
You don’t know lonely ’til it’s chiseled in stone. Vern Gosden, Chiseled in Stone
She wore red dresses with her black shining hair,
Oh, she had my baby, and caused me to care.
Then coldly she left me to suffer and cry.
She wore red dresses and told such sweet lies.
Dwight Yoakum, She Wore Red Dresses
There’s a burning question afire in my mind, you always had the answers to the ones I couldn’t find. Clint Black and Hayden Nicholas, Where Are You Now
Seeking relief from your memories, I’ve almost Jack Daniels drowned. Ronnie Reynolds and Linda Craig. Recorded by John Anderson, Almost Jack Daniels Drowned.
As I write today, I hope such sentences come to mind, because these are the things that stick with readers.
It’s frustrating that I can’t write songs, but I’m eternally grateful others can.
I’ve always wanted to try – I write tight, but I couldn’t think of a clever rejoinder, like many of the country songs today have.
But you convinced me that I don’t need it, as long as I have a story. Never heard of these two – thank you!
Real songs are stories. I have songwriting friends who say it’s easy, so I guess I need to sit down with them and give it a try.
Hey Rev, coincidentally, see Writing Lessons from Singer-Songwriters at https://www.thepassivevoice.com/writing-lessons-from-singer-songwriters/
Great link, Sir… reminding me of who I missed/omitted in my comment below… Stever Earle, of course… and John Hiatt’s “Tennessee Plates” is a long time favorite with its (spoiler alert), surprise twist at end.
George, you could go all day and never run out of great writers and song lyrics to quote. I’m a huge country fan (old country) too, but Arrowsmith’s “Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” (Diane Warren) is right up there. When Bob Denver’s “Annie’s Song” came out, the first line alone probably made songwriters all over the world slap their pens down and head for a bottle of whiskey. (grin)
Good stuff. I have a list of fine songwriters who grab me from the start. Lot’s of them are from Texas.
Nice post, Sir… good way to start the day…
It’s said (and I’m not sure who said it), that a good country song is a “three minute novel.”
Also, songwriter Harland Howard called them, “Three chords and the truth.”
A couple of other excellent storytellers, who I’m sure you know about, include Oklahoman Verlon Thompson (“Caddo County,” “Dinnerbell,” “The Guitar”), and Texan Guy Clarke, (“Desperados Waiting For A Train,” “The Last Gunfighter Ballad,” “The Randall Knife”).
If I could just write the stuff they’ve wadded up and thrown away…
The three minute novel is exactly right. However, Harry Chapin’s songs ran long, which meant they didn’t get much air play. I love ‘em all.
And Guy Clark. Wow. Randal Knife is an old favorite.
Many thanks.
When I was a lad my big brother had several Kingston Trio albums. Story song masters. I remember being haunted by Tom Dooley, a song about a young man who kills his sweetheart with a knife (the reason is somewhat obscure) and is about to be hanged.
The other song I loved was about a man named Charlie who gets stuck on Boston’s MTA because he doesn’t have the nickel for a transfer…so he “couldn’t get off of that train.” Every day his wife goes down to the station to hand Charlie a sandwich through an open window as “the train comes rumbling through.”
The emotional impact–sadness in one case, laughter in the other–is just like in a good short story.
We used to sing that one on trips.
“But will he ever return?
No, he’ll never return
And his fate is still unlearned.
He may ride forever ‘neath the streets of Boston.
He’s the man who never returned.”
We learned a lot of songs in elementary that would make people cringe today!
We ain’t scarred.
Wabash Cannonball brought back so many fond memories of folk songs. Thanks for the good start to a Saturday.
About the only ‘songwriting’ I’ve ever been capable of was nonsense songs for my kids when they were babies.
A song that makes me cry every time I hear it is Love, Me by Collin Raye. When I worked at a radio station and part of my job was to listen (for dead air, for errors) every time they played that song, and it was a lot, I cried. Mr. Raye was quoted as saying he was surprised that his fans loved that song more than any of his others. It was because of the story it told. It was simple, but encompassed a lifetime of loving and yearning.
“Love Me” is one of my favorite Collin Raye songs. It’s a circle of life story & just grabs your heart. But he’s masterful at this. He also has great stuff like “That’s My Story” and “One Boy, One Girl” which are also awesome. And “Little Rock”. Thank you for bringing them to mind this Saturday morning. And if you ever happen by TKZ Collin Raye, THANK YOU for your awesome music.
This kind of music gets the inspiration train chugging for me. In particular, I love Townes Van Zandt.
WOW, Rev, you really hit me in the heart for 2 reasons:
1) The minute you said “Wabash Cannonball” Roy Acuff started playing automatically in my head. Great way to start the day!
2) One of my deepest desires is to write a song in honor of my Dad, who passed away back in 2013.
Storytelling through song is what I grew up on because nobody ever did it better than the classic country artists of the day. Not that other genres don’t have it, but classic country more than any (classic country to me is country up until the early-mid 90’s). El Paso by Marty Robbins, Ringo by Lorne Greene, One Piece At a Time by Johnny Cash, and a million others besides. A somewhat more recent example is “Riding with Private Malone”.
I was never much of a rock or pop music person, but one song I can think of on the pop side that always struck me this way was The Pina Colada Song. That song told an entire book in one brief set of lyrics too.
But I do want to write my dad’s song. I haven’t done it yet both because I’m musically clueless (or maybe song writers worry about the music part after they write it. I don’t know how it works) and because I want the song to be perfect of course, because it is about my Dad. But it’s on my list of things to get done before I leave this earth.
I greatly admire the classic country story-telling songwriters. Awesome stuff!
For me, the father “tribute” song I most admire and would love to emulate is Dan Fogelberg’s “Leader of the Band.”
This is on my bucket list as well.
Thanks–I’ll be sure and listen to it.
That song, and the line, “And, Papa, I don’t think I said ‘I love you’ near enough” provided the click moment for me for my protagonist in What’s in a Name?
I, too, had The Wabash Cannonball running through my mind as soon as I saw the title. For me it’s Marty Robbins’ El Paso.
I had forgotten Loving County until I listened to Charlie Robison sing it–then it all came back. The link was broken but I found it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uewrSagO-r4
I’ve written 2 country songs – you’re right – it’s difficult! But I’m proud of both of them. They will forever languish on my computer but I can cross that off my bucket list!
Wonderful post, Rev. A story in lyrics is the hardest kind of story to write. I’ve written flash fiction and published a lot, but story in song is much greater challenge.
“The Lights of Loving County” indeed tell a novel’s worth of story in a dozen paragraphs of lyrics, an amazing feat.
Billy Joel’s 1976 song, “Miami 2017,” tells a science fictional story of the fate of New York City in as compelling a fashion as an award-winning prose SF story. It never fails to fill me with melancholy and nostalgia whenever I hear it’s sweeping story.
I used to write songs. I always had to write a farewell song about whoever was leaving our unit. It started with a Catholic priest (to the tune of Sweet Betsy from Pike) and mushroomed from there.
My most requested song was about moving. I had to do that one every time we had a hail and farewell. I wrote it one day when my hubby was on temporary duty elsewhere, the movers stole my wedding set, and the kids were throwing Froot Loops into the kerosene heater because Japanese apartments don’t have heat. I felt abandoned by God and everybody. It was either laugh or go insane.
Picture this to a quick country beat:
Lord, you weren’t watching over my crystal
As it fell to the floor of the van.
Then the kids both got sick
And screamed all the way
From Seattle to Japan.
Our apartment resembles a doghouse.
And the walls are toilet paper thin.
And the question I have
For you on this day
Is good Lord, where have you been?
Where have you been?
Where have you been?
Did the movers leave you in a box
And forget to bring you in?
To leave us during moving time
Ought to be a sin.
Oh, good Lord,
Where have you been?
Ah, another great memory–The Cartwright clan in Bonanza singing “Sweet Betsy From Pike” (I can’t remember if it was in an actual episode or if it was on one of the albums the cast recorded).
And also, your lyric above also reminds me of another fantastic song by Kathy Mattea “Where’ve You Been”: (don’t listen to it without a hanky)
Claire had all but given up,
When she and Edwin fell in love.
She touched his face and shook her head,
In disbelief, she sighed and said:
“In many dreams I’ve held you near,
“Now, at last, you’re really here.
“Where’ve you been?”
“I’ve looked for you forever and a day.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“I’m just not myself when you’re away.”
He asked her for her hand for life,
And she became a salesman’s wife.
He was home each night by eight,
But one stormy evening, he was late.
Her frightened tears fell to the floor,
Until his key turned in the door.
“Where’ve you been? ”
“I’ve looked for you forever and a day.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“I’m just not myself when you’re away.”
They’d never spent a night apart,
For sixty years, she heard him snore.
Now they’re in a hospital,
In separate beds on different floors.
Claire soon lost her memory,
Forgot the names of family.
She never spoke a word again,
Then one day, they wheeled him in.
He held her hand and stroked her hair,
In a fragile voice she said:
“Where’ve you been? ”
“I’ve looked for you forever and a day.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“I’m just not myself when you’re away.”
“No, I’m just not myself when you’re away.”
Beautiful.
It was Adam who sang Sweet Betsy from Pike, and it was on an episode. I still remember it. The Limeliters did it, too, and it was a track on my “Irish Drinking Songs” CD. but I preferred the Bonanza version.
Love this, Cynthia!
Willie Nelson’s “Red-Headed Stranger” played hundreds of times on our Marantz 2270, along with the rest of the Outlaws. And Stevie Wonder”s “Innervisions” album.
Ian and Sylvia, the Canadian duo, had some haunting story songs.
Somehow I missed “Loving County.” Hope that remains an earworm for the rest of the day! Thanks, Rev and Patricia.
You don’t know lonely ’til it’s chiseled in stone. 🙁
Got me, Rev.
I reckon song writing follows the same rubric as fiction: Just tell the story. If you want to send a message go to Western Union.
I fancy Jerry Reed’s version of the Wabash Cannonball. I always thought Daddy Claxton was a lawyer though.
And for fun there’s always Jerry Reed’s “The Bird” song. 😎
And “Amos Moses”!
Wabash Cannonball brings back memories. My husband used to sing that many years ago. Hank Williams’s I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry always got to me.