I'm Going To Grandma's (Sing Loud, Sing Often)

Mother Nature’s rain

poked me right in the eye,

as her wind and clouds had their way with me.

In this city full of pain I give it my best try,

but I’m not sure you can live here 

and be free.

It’s not safe here anymore,

this place is ready to explode.

Who’ll light the fuse on this box of dynamite?

Draw the shade, lock the door,

help me lay down this load,

and we’ll sleep with one eye open tonight.

maybe I said the wrong thing...maybe I looked the wrong way...maybe I just gotta go.

Grab the cash, drive all night,

no more city left in sight,

up that dark and lonely mountain road.

I’m going to Grandma’s.

She’ll know what to do.

A cup of tea with lemon

a hug from Grandpa too.

Gonna learn me how to laugh again

from my belly, deep within,

and when Grandma sings

its like a bird on the wind.

My heart will fly,

and I’ll be fine.

She’s cooking something grand

in her antique roasting pan,

while spinning yarns into wooly hats of rainbows.

A leopard house coat suits her

as evening attire,

and with stray dogs by the fire,

I’ll be welcome in the House of Fur.

..and I complain about how obsessive people in the city 

tell phony stories and are just trying to be seen

and it’s all a game!

..and she tells me wonderful stories

of when the smell of orange groves still came through the window

after they were gone.

..and I plead to her for the answers 

I so desperately need!

..and never losing her smile,

she sighs, then whispers:

“Sing loud, sing often,

and let them know,

this world is your stage,

they cant steal your show.

Give your gifts, they are balm for those souls

that are weary and worn from their heavy loads.

Be silent no more,

and take your time, because it’s yours.”

Of course, she’s right,

sing and hold tight. 

Leave things inside 

and they will eat you alive.

Release it,

and you can breathe again.

I traveled many miles

trying towns on for size.

They just don't fit.

So I found my own mountain

with meadows of green

and made a simple life of simple things.

There is a simple life.

I take the long drive to the ocean under a bright blue sky 

and bask in the love of friends so dear.

It’s hard when you can’t keep all your loves near.

The edges have softened,

the fear has flown,

and my purpose now is clear:

“Sing loud, sing often.”

Ken Owen,  Van Niddy Music,  March 2012