Oh man, prepare yourself for some seriously ridiculous sentimental drivel. The song that follows is 100%, pure, unadulterated ASS. I haven’t heard it in more than ten years (thankfully), but after hearing it for the first and only time back in ’93 when it was forced upon me while I toiled in a cabinet shop trying to earn enough to buy my first car (…perhaps I could write a song about that…), I knew that it would remain one of the worst songs that I have ever, and will ever hear. Enjoy ;]
In a small town down in Georgia over forty years ago
Her maiden name was musik til she met that jackson boy
They married young like folks did then, not a penny to their name
But they believe the one you vow to love
Should always stay the same
And on the land his daddy gave him, a foundation under way
For a love to last forever or until their dying day
They built a bond that’s strong enough to stand the test of time
And a place for us to turn to when our lives were in a bind
And they made their house from a tool-shed
Grandaddy rolled down on two logs
And they built walls all around it
And they made that house a home
They taught us ’bout good living
They taught is right and wrong
Lord there’ll never be another place
In this world I’ll call home
My momma raised five children, four girls then there was me
She found her strength with faith in God and love of family
She never had a social life, home was all she knew
Except the time she took a job, to play a bill or two
My daddy skinned his knuckles on the cars that he repaired
He never earned much money but he gave us all he had
He never made the front page but he did the best he could
And folks drove their cars from miles around
To let him look underneath the hood
And they made their house from a tool-shed
Grandaddy rolled down on two logs
And they built walls all around it
And they made that house a home
They taught us ’bout good living
They taught is right and wrong
Lord there’ll never be another place
In this world I’ll call home
No there’ll never be another place in this world
That I’ll call home
[Alan Jackson: Home]
My Grandaddy would have pounded the livin’ tar out of his grandaddy, had he known that the other’s decendants would someday write a song that foul.
4 replies on “BAD Country Song #2”
Why are you dissing on a song that tells the story of someone’s life? They sound like good people – just a little different than your elite butt. How can you be so insensitive?!!!
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Whoa! I can think of at least a half-dozen country songs about the fortitude and character of poor southern folks that I enjoy. Coal miner’s daughter, for example, is much more genuine, tons stronger musically, about as hokey but in a much more charming way than “Home”. Plus CMD was put out in the 60’s or something. As I said before, it is the ridiculous sentimentality of the lyrics, of the chorus especially, that bothers me about this particular song. I’m not dissin’ on the dude’s life; I’m dissing about his attempt to romanticize it in this cheezeball country song. So, I dispute your charge that I’m elitest. If I’m insensitive, so be it. Those are the breaks for singer/songwriters who decide to profit by exposing thier life stories to the public.
I’m sure this person’s little tune is all about ‘The Art’, right? It has nothing to do with ‘The Cashola’ or ‘The Famoruni’. Indeed, I didn’t see anything in the lyrics about shooting stray cats and I’m disappointed.