Blessed Greetings all,

I am amazed at how far behind I am in everything these days especially my writin'.  Such is the cost I guess of the life threatening surgery  now two months passed upon an already wore out body.  Though the surgery was sucessful in it's primary purpose, it did however leave me with permanent nerve damage in my left leg and groin. This is quite a blow as it has forever ended any hopes of my returning to flatrack motorcycle racing, and at a time when I had been offered a sponsored return to the pro seniors national circuit.  This makes for just another sad day here at Mole Church as I still possess the  skills, drive, and guts (stupidity to some folks thinkin') that are  necesary to run 100mph on two wheels on dirt  horsetracks brakeless.  It is how I came up it would have been a satisfactory way for me to go out as well.

In the three weeks prior to my surgery, and knowing the risks of the  impending surgery, I basically locked myself into the recording studio on the average of 16 hrs a day and in that time period recorded 16 new songs for my first solo project  in over 30 years.

The project entitled "High Times and Low Livin' (lyrics to some of  the new songs can be found here on the blog) is basically the auto biography of my time here on earth, the good years and the horror years, all of it no punches pulled, no smoothin' over my rough edges, no hidin' anything from the way I grew up hard and fast, the failed marriages, the heroin years, findin'Jesus, and more than 30 years of activism for the Indian and Southron Causes all in the form of music. 

 The project is a mix of country, rock a billy, blues, Southern rock, and a touch of gospel as well. I wrote all the lyrics and music myself with the exception of one set of lyrics titled "Whiskeys Cheap" who wrote the lyrics about me, and I simply put the music to his lyrics.  It was the only song not written  and recorded before the surgery.

I am in the throws of mixing the project at this time. A slow and tedious process to say the least and one limited by the number of hours my doctor will allow me to stand and or sit.  Yes, I have mixed some of it standing, as sitting remains a real discomfort.  If I could mix it lying down I would ! lol lol.

To those here reading this that have  purchased my music previously, well, I hope you take a chance on this one.  I think it the best writing I have ever done and some of the best playin' I have done since before my strokes.  I did all the guitar parts, piano, Hammond B 3 organ parts, accordian, (yes I said accordian lol) bass, synthazied strings arrangement, and drum tracks as well.  I did all the lead and harmony vocals as well with the exeption of some female back up vocals provide by Pam and Barbara Ellen. Barbara also layed down some mandolin riffs for me , as I just cant get a handle on that instrument.  That's a shame too as I love how versatile that instrument is.

I have sent a rough  demo of the project to 3 record lables and have generated some interest from 2 of the 3.  The one lable found my stuff too politically incorrect for them to consider.  To me that is the ultimate complement.  The last thing  I would want (should God call me home) is for my music to be politically correct.........My life never was so, why would I wnat my legacy through my music to be?

If you have any interest in this project please feel free to email at tandpam@shawnee.net   or visit my website www.terrywarren.net

As always I personally answer all mail.

Well that's where things stand for now from Mole Church way behind enemy lines

Blessins' to all

T.

Well, maybe some day I'll get the hang of using a computer, so here is the rest of the new songs that somehow didn't make the previous post........so please review these lyrics and the previous posting. Thanks. T.

 

Confederate American of the 21^st Century

 

Each and every mornin’ as he gets out of his bed

He says a quiet prayer as he humbly bows his head

Askin’ for protection for all those that he loves

Knowin’ his words are heard  by God above

 

He always asks for guidance to get him through the day

To help him be a better man in each and every way

To keep alive the spirit of those who he comes from

Sharin’ truth with Honor keeps his enemy on the run

 

Chorus

A Confederate American of the 21^st century

Ther’s more to this soldier than the little that ya see

He’s a complex individual and he’s learned from history

A Confederate American who wants his liberty

 

Under fire daily from those who speak in lies

They can not make him waiver no matter how they try

He stands his ground firmly his colors he proudly flies

Born Confederate American, an he’ll be one till he dies

 

They poke fun of him in Hollyweird because it makes them dollars

He stands to the Constitution  as written an makes liberals holler

They don’t want him to speak the truth his morals they shun

They can only hold their power by keepin’ him under thumb

 

Chorus:

 

He knows its truly wrong when illegals have more rights than him

An try as you may to change it,  to him abortion still a sin

Belief in God gets him through as does love of country flag and family

He’s Confederate American loud and proud an longin’ to be free

 

Though many will harass him and some try to divide the ranks

He gives his best for the Cause out of duty with little thanks

Never Lookin’ for fame nor glory no that is not his way

He’s Confederate American stout and true and waitin’ for his day

 

Chorus and  fade…….

 

Intro c g f g c

Verse c g f

 

 Guess They Don’t Know (No Other Way To BE)          intro  f  g  c  verse c  f c  f  c f  g 

chorus  g c gc g f c

 

 

They stare hard but they don’t  really see

They walk enchained and think their free

They whisper  to some they wont speak aloud

They hang their head instead of bein’ proud

 Guess they don’t know no other way to be

 

They bitch and moan and they  always complain

They don’t do nuthin an wonder why it stays the same

They  hide in the shadows while others fight their fight

They would’nt dare fly the colors  now that aint right

Guess they don’t know no other way to be

 

Chorus   They don’t know how to be a man

              They don’t know how to make a stand

              They don’t  even know right from wrong

              They’re the reason I wrote this song

              Guess they don’t know no other way to be

 

They ain’t interested in learnin’ the truth of history

They’d rather spend their time bashin’ you and me

They can all  get together and go to straight to hell

They’d mess their pants if they heard a rebel yell

Guess they don’t know no other way to be

 

They believe that  equality is a one way street

They just want to keep us under their gliberal feet

They need everything  their way an that ain’t fair

They want the whole pie, not just their share

Guess they don’t know no other way to be

 

 

Chorus   They don’t know how to be a man

              They don’t know how to make a stand

              They don’t  even know right from wrong

              They’re the reason I wrote this song

              Guess they don’t know no other way to be

 

 

I’m just a man

 

There’s something strange and wild

In the blood of one like me

Who in all my days and nights

Have struggled to get free

 

Something stirs within me

It trembles and it beats

Like the flutter of broken wings

Or the sound of wind dried sheets

 

It is something that will never know

The feelin’ of content

Not until I’m dead an gone

Will my restless soul relent

 

An aching yearn that wakes and cries

Like a sea wind on the land

I’m lowly unhealthy but humble

For I am just a man……

 

 

 

Homeless Veteran

 

 

It was just outside of Charleston

we stopped to rest for awhile

As I walked up to the store front

I saw his  faded  smile

His cardboard sign read

“Disabled homeless vet

There was somethin’ there about him

That touched me an I ain’t  over it yet

 

At first I just walked on by

Like so many of us do”

A voice inside me whispered

“But for the Grace of God Go You”

I bought the things I stopped for

And I went  on back  outside

I took a good hard look at him

And then I started to cry….

 

His face it  was all mangled

From what the shrapnel did to him

And  though I  tried not to stare

I know I looked straight through him

I didn’t stop I merely walked back to the van

 I got a few more dollars from  the travel can

I went back into the store and bought some food

As I took it to him I said “don’t think me rude”

 

How does a Veteran  in  America

Come to end up this way  ?

And what will it take to change it

To make  tomorrow better than today?

Before I could ask him   more

 he began to quietly weep

But he composed himself

and then began to speak

 

Chorus

 

I haven’t eaten in 2 days  or maybe its been 3

And most folks turn away when they look at me

 cant remember the last time the kindness you’ve shown

Tomorrow will be better when Ive got a job and home…….

 

 I sat there beside him for quite a little  spell

An we talked of Heaven and  we talk’d of Hell

We both agreed hell can be    right here on  earth

An Heaven comes later in the form of   re birth

I got up from the stoop and offered  out my hand.

He trembled as he took it and  said I hope you understand

How much its, meant to me for your kindness an company

I told him I surely did appreciate what he gave to me...............

 

Well preciate ya'll readin' this far so please read on through the next post I've put my heart and soul into these songs I hope they move someone. Blessin's to all..T

 

 

 

 

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Over the  past few months in motels, rest areas,  on country roads up here and down South, and in the quiet confines of Mole Church, I have been on a song writin' frenzy. Throughout all 2004 I kinda rested on the laurels of the Border Ruffians Band. Although much  that was good for the Cause came out of the Border Ruffians "Wanted", including a Beacon Music Award for "Best Single of 2004", I felt I had left somethin' on the table. So, on  New Years Eve 2004 I promised my wife , that in 2005 I was gonna use my music as best I could for the Cause, and I was gonna try real hard to top 2004. So with the release of "Southron Steel" (the follow up Border ruffians cd, and the release of "Reb'd Up" a combined effort of my friend Matt Stevens and myself, along with  the re-release of previous projects of mine, I felt I was off to a good start at keepin' my word. Somwhere in the neighborhood of 50 shows later, and two more Beacon Music awards, and performances on the Curb records Stage at the 2005 Nashville Songwriters festival, I feel pretty good that I gave it a good shot.............yet once again something seemed left on the table.

After  much soul searchin' and many early mornin' and late evenin' talks with Pam, she suggested that I should do a solo project, and by that she didnt necessarly mean that I do everything myself (although she believes in me enough that it  is under consideration), but if not do it all myself, at least use only songs that I penned the music and lyrics to, record  ,engineer  and produce them to my likin' not to someone elses interpretation of how they think my music should be.  Now that appealed to me ,not out of some ego trip but all my music career  (with the exception of a 1972 album) it has always been an agent, a publisist, a engineer, producer a record lable, or bandmates sayin' " do it this way, or change the structure of  that line, or put the bridge here etc etc......I never took the risk and just ignored them, and although many of my projects were sucessful, like I said earlier, I always felt I left somethin' on the table.....

So with  the new project written and rehearsals begun, with recording scheduled to begin this week, I wish to share the lyrics from  my first solo project since 1972. I think they will stand on their own merit, and speak loud and proud. I believe they are the best material I have ever written.........the new CD will be titled "High Times and Low Livin" I hope ya'll enjoy, and I'd be greatful for feedback. 

 

Gutters of Chicago

 

Back in 70,  Lord that was oh so long ago

I went to the windy city just to feel her blow

Just a hay seed  hick kid from the sticks

Full of fire an drive, words and guitar licks

 

Found me an agent who was willin’ to listen

I bent his ear, and saw his eyes glisten

 Sayin ’you’ got the look you’ve got a sound

Sign  right here, I’ll get ya round  this town…………..

 

Took a 4^th floor room in a real bad neighborhood

Puerto Rican girls  well they looked me over good

I went down to a street called Rush,  early one day

Pulled out my guitar left the case open and played

 

Chorus:  2 pair of wore out  jeans 4 cowboy shirts an   Tony Lama boots

              Standin’ on the corner playin’ for  runaways an lawyers in suits

              Nickels dimes and quarters sometimes an occasional dollar bill

              Havin’ the time of my life 6 feet from the gutter livin’ big city thrills

 

 

Played  on that corner for tips   there just barely a week

Had my eyes opened wide by hookers hustlers and freaks

One day long blk  car stops,  big cigar in hand the agent gets out

 Says son  best come with me,  gotcha a gig and  not for free

 

Grabbed up my guitar and slid into the limos back facin’ seat

Two beautiful women already in there just as an added treat

You’re at the Red Lion with James Taylor  you’ heard of him?

 Hell yea I have    who ain’t? I said  with a Cheshire cat grin

 

 I went out an played my show stole their hearts little did I know

How quick  life would change a revolving door of highs and lows

Travelin’ by air and roads  sharin’ the stage with   famous faces

Fell into  the pits of hell filled with Heroin an alcohol chasers

 

Chorus      a year later 1 pair of wore out  jeans 1 cowboy shirt  holes in  boots

                  Standin’ on the corner playin’ for  runaways an lawyers in suits

                  Nickels dimes and quarters sometimes an occasional dollar bill

                  Tryin’ just to survive’  passed out in the gutters  of Chicago

 

 

Black Roses                                                                                Intro g a d

                                                                                                    Verse  d   e minor g a

                                                                                                     Chorus  g  a  d 3xs then e mi  a

 

There was a time when I was a soldier of fortune

And sometimes at night I hear the jungle callin’

I wake sweat soaked heart heavy with gloom

On the edge of my bed head hung tears flowin’

 

The things I saw   the things I did in mind remain

Though twenty years on   they are like yesterday

I still smell the smells I can hear the bullets spray

Should I live to be 100  It’ll always be the same

 

 

Chorus: Black Roses for the fightin’ man

             Black roses for the Honduran child

             Black roses  for  the murdered nun

             Cut in half yet died with a saintly smile

 

I’ve been to Al tun-Ha and Tikal on the Mopan

Fell onto my knees before Chac and it rained

Those  there with me  they could’nt understand

I drew upon his magic and how it cleansed my pain

 

In an ancient temple  in a ceremony I wont reveal

I was Mayan adopted and my life it did change

With a heart of a Jaguar  back to the jungle I did steal

I saw a Harrier rise it’s ordinances death  did proclaim

 

My time there finally ended caught a flight back home

My wife and children  they didn’t know me anymore

In my face, eyes, and hands death did show

I couldn’t keep it all together, so I walked out the door

 

Chorus Black Roses for the fightin’ man

            Black Roses for the Guatemalan child

            Black Roses for the murdered nun

            Cut in half yet died with a Saintly smile  repeat several times and fade

 

 

 

High Times and Low Livin”   verse d a g a  chorus g d gd

 

 

I hit the stage a runnin’ a long time ago

Had no real direction just knew I had to go

Fell into the big time as quick as ya please

Rode a real high wave till heroin dropped me to my knees

 

Had a Vogue Model wife all kind of friends hangin’ round

Built us a real fine place on the outskirts of town

Seems I was never there, seems she always was

She ran off with my best friend and left me in the dust

 

Chorus: Now it’s      High times and low livin’

                                Got no one at home

                                Don’t feel like forgivin’

                                Don’t like livin’ alone

                               

                                Gonna have another hit 

                                And I ain’t talking records

                                All it took was a little push

                                To make it almost worth it

 

Well the shows got bigger and the money got better

Sometimes I stayed dry sometimes I got wetter

The more money I made the more went in my arm

Turned away from all I loved couldn’t see the harm

 

One night I reached a point where enough wasn’t enough

So I did a little more          tryin to prove  that I was tough

They said my eyes rolled up all white thought I was dead

2 days later I woke up with thoughts of Heroin in my head

 

Chorus.

 

Right then and there I knew      somethin’ had to  change

Made a promise I’d get straight an my life Id rearrange

Didn’t know how to pray so    I wrote God a letter

He sent a smilin’ Angel and my life it got better

 

Now its  High times  without   the  low livin

No more livin’ alone, and my Angel is always forgivin’

Gonna have  me another hit yea this ones a record

Everyday I try harder and my life  it just gets better

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bring’ ‘em Home

 

I come from a lineage of those who

 Never waivered an have always served

When called upon, they always displayed

Raw courage and  plenty of nerve

Respect  for the veteran

Was a lesson early learned

 one from which I never swerved

 

Now that mess over there in the sand

Has gone on too long

What started out right has gone all wrong

So either finish the job  that was   begun

 Or pack em up and bring ‘em on home,

Back where  they’re  loved an wanted

Back where they belong………….

 

Chorus:

 

Bring ‘em home they been gone too long

Put our country back on track, bring’em back

The days of open borders are long outdated

The UN’s new world order is way over rated

 

I’m all for lendin’ a helpin’ hand to those in need

But ther’s folks  at home who we need to feed

Baghdad's streets are safer than those of Chicago

Bring our women and men home ya know ya outta

 

We’ve got oil of our own and refineries too an

Legions of oil field workers lookin’ for somethun to do

So mop up the mess and bring ‘em home soon!!!!!!!!!

So mop up the mess and bring ‘em home soon!!!!!!!!!

 

 

©T Warren Red Dirt Red Skin Music 425 Jonathon Street Bridgeport, IL.62417

 

Callin’ on Jesus

 

Jesus Im callin’  I’m tryin’ to get through to you

Jesus can ya tell me what  it is    that I need to do ?

 Jesus will anythin’ good  come from all Ive been through

Oh Jesus Im’ callin’ on you…………..

 

It’s no secret I’ve been a heathen most of my life

Though I been blessed with children and wife

 There’s So many mistakes I’ve made in my time

Jesus are ya still on the line?

 

Chorus:   Been a drunkard a junkie a rounder and more

               When I locked myself out, you opened the door

                Can’t imagine why ya bother  but I’m glad ya do

                Jesus,  Once again I’m callin’ on you.

 

 the times they were crazy  an  everything went  wrong

somehow  when I’d  stagger an  stumble you’d tag along

walkin beside me, always knowin’ just  what I’d  done

seems my whole lifes ………been lived on the run

 

Well, I’m tryin’ real hard, just to be a better man

And Im hopin’ and prayin’ that you have a plan

Cause this old rocker is startin’ to fade away

Jesus I’m callin’    and I’m yes I’m callin today.

 

Chorus   Been a drunkard a junkie a rounder and more

              When I locked myself out you opened the door

               Can’t imagine why ya bother but Aim glad ya do