Showing posts with label country. Show all posts
Showing posts with label country. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Hands~

Writing country songs again. 



Raised by a farmer,
She’s her daddy’s only daughter,
Washed in the Blood and water,
This is her life.

Growing crops and tending cattle,
Every day’s a constant battle,
But it’s what she loves and that’ll,
Always be her life.

She’s not afraid of tomorrow,
But she prays “God, please, may I borrow
Some strength?”

“The life we live is
Something you give
To those you know can carry it.
I've watched my father shape this land
Through sweat, pain, and bleeding hands,
And, God, all I want is to carry it
When he can’t.
God, please hold my shaking hands.”

Up before the break of day
She milking cows and stacking hay;
She wouldn't be content another way.
This is her life.

She's witnessed births and witnessed deaths,
She’s seen a calf give her last breath,
Sometimes she’s up against Goliath
With just a pocket knife.

Sometimes she fears tomorrow,
So she prays, “God, please, may I borrow
Some strength?”

“The life we live is
Something you give
To those you know can carry it.
I’ve watched my father shape this land
Through sweat, pain, and bleeding hands,
And, God, all I want is to carry it
When he can’t.
God, please hold my shaking hands.”

She’s fighting the bank so hard,
Always careful, on her guard.
Her body’s weary and scarred.
She has bleeding hands…

Well she lost her daddy one spring day,
They told her she should sell the place,
But she swore there on his grave,
Her face cupped in her hands

That she'd hold on until the day
God sent a good man her way
Who would live and work and pray
And hold her hands.

She doesn’t fear tomorrow
‘Cause she knows God will heal the sorrow,
And send her strength.

“The life we live is
Something you give
To those you know can carry it.
I’ve watched my father shape this land
Through sweat, pain, and bleeding hands,
And, God, all I want is to carry it
When he can’t.
God, please hold my shaking hands
When he can’t.
God, please hold my shaking hands.”

Raised by a farmer,
She’s her daddy’s only daughter,
Washed in the Blood and water,
This is her life...

© Hannah Scarlett 2013



Monday, December 17, 2012

Waiting on My Cowboy~


Another product of my song-writing spree- a good ol' country song!

They both ride into the sunset,
They each ride a horse.
And when one's left his damsel behind, 
She weeps with remorse.

She'll wait for him fretfully,
Her tear-stained face to the west.
Awaiting his safe return
From some brave, noble quest.

But I don't want what she has:
Worry, waiting for her knight.
Hoping he won't be slain,
Or be wounded in a fight.

I'm confident in my man's return;
I wait patiently, with joy.
For none can take him down,
Not my stolid cowboy...

No lance, no clanging chain-mail,
Just a hat pulled over his eyes,
No "thees" and "thous", just a "yes ma'am",
And a sixshooter at his side.
Some fancy prince won't due,
No knight in shining armor-
Just a rope in hand and cowboy boots,
I'd rather have a farmer.
Isn't bound by some code,
Just does what's right, is sweet and coy.
Oh, yes...
I'm a waiting on my cowboy.

A knight can fast become
Haughty, aloof, and proud.
But raised with southern values,
My man's humble and sound.

He won't pick a fight to prove
His might or his honor.
But he ain't afraid to throw a fist
When violence is called for.

No lance, no clanging chain-mail,
Just a hat pulled over his eyes,
No "thees" and "thous", just a "yes ma'am",
And a sixshooter at his side.
Some fancy prince won't due,
No knight in shining armor-
Just a rope in hand and cowboy boots,
I'd rather have a farmer.
Isn't bound by some code,
Just does what's right, is sweet and coy.
Oh, yes...
I'm a waiting on my cowboy.


A knight slays dragons
For glory and honor.
My man plows a field
So he can raise his daughter.

He's faithful, tall, and handsome,
Strong and ever-true.
Your knight can throw a lance,
But my cowboy can shoot.

So when it comes down to it,
Foes ride on up the road.
Your knight gives up his sword,
While my man just reloads...

No lance, no clanging chain-mail,
Just a hat pulled over his eyes,
No "thees" and "thous", just a "yes ma'am",
And a sixshooter at his side.
Some fancy prince won't due,
No knight in shining armor-
Just a rope in hand and cowboy boots,
I'd rather have a farmer.
Isn't bound by some code,
Just does what's right, is sweet and coy.
Oh, yes...
I'm a waiting on my cowboy.

Oh, yes...
I'm a waiting on my cowboy.

Copyright Hannah Scarlett 2012



...and here is my rough draft of a recording for this song. *Ducks and hides, embarrassed* 
I want to change some of the lyrics, work on the tempo, the tune, and just mess around with it over-all. Please feel free to give me tips, plus if you know anything about audio-editing software, that could help as well. (I currently use Audacity)