whowrotewhat

TRIBUTE TO THE RED-HEADED STRANGER

A red headed youngster from Abbott, Texas,
Picked up a guitar one day,
And dreamed about being a singing cowboy
Like the ones at the matinee.
With his Grandfolks to guide him, and Bobbie beside him,
He practiced well into the night
With the sounds of the Opry, he learned to play
And write songs in the candlelight.

The night life was his life
He wrote it all down
About the stars and the bars and the pain
About Crazy and Lazy, and No Love Around,
And the storm that would soon begin.

He wrote about Night Life, Phases and Stages.
He wrote about yellow-haired ladies.
Of angels and devils, Misery Mansions,
Promises broken and maybe’s.
Times to Remember, and times to forget,
And time that was slippin’ away.
Feelin’ bad, and feelin’ better,
Healing hands and December days

He loved ‘em. He lived ‘em,
These songs about leavin’,
About ridin’ and hidin’ the pain,
Of drinkin’ and thinkin’ and what to believe in,
And the storm had almost begun.

The red-headed youngster grew up and was restless.
His music was meant to be heard.
He gave up his home life, went searching for fame
With nothing but dreams and his words.
Under his arm was a Martin Guitar
And a stack of his music to play.
His songs, they were good, but no one understood
And he wouldn’t do it their way.

He was lonely and tired, down on his luck,
But he’d walk before he would crawl.
Then a lady named Patsy recorded “Crazy”
And Faron Young sang “Hello, Walls”

Once started, they charted,
These two songs he had penned
Of lost love and teardrops and rain –
Of cryin’ and tryin’, and hearts that won’t mend,
And the storm had finally begun.

The Red-Headed Stranger was a stranger no more.
His songs were sung everywhere.
But there was more to fame than just writing songs,
And Nashville didn’t seem to care.
So, he packed up his guitar and rode back to Texas,
Back to his children and wife.
You can’t blame a man for leavin’ a town
That cares more for money than life.

They bossed him, They crossed him,
this Outlaw from Texas,
For doing what he knew was right.
But he snowed ‘em, He showed ‘em –
The face of a fighter
And the storm blew in overnight.

This is my tale of the Red-Headed Stranger.
His music ages like Yesterday’s Wine.
His words and his friendship will always stay
In my heart, my soul, and my mind.

©2000C.Taylor
(with a little help from the Red-Headed Stranger)

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©2001-2007C.Taylor/CeriousArt