Daily Archives: March 1, 2012

…The Place That We All Call Home

The prompt I chose for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop today is:

2.) Analyze a popular song you heard on the radio…what exactly does it all mean?

Let me begin by saying that my first choice in music is oldies. Oldies, as in the 50’s and 60’s. Okay, you can include the first few years of the 70’s, if you must. But only because of the likes of CCR, Three Dog Night and Neil Diamond.

Today’s music holds no appeal for me, with the exception of a (very) few country songs, one of which I’m posting about today. But even if you’re not a country music fan, please stay with me.

When I first heard this song about a week ago, the tune was what caused me to turn up the volume on the radio. But, as I listened to the words, I realized what a great song it is. It makes you really appreciate the creativity of a songwriter.  I did some internet research and discovered that the song was co-written by the performer, Dierks Bentley. The inspiration was the shooting in Arizona, in which Gabrielle Giffords was seriously injured.

I’m posting the lyrics and then a link to the video. This one is self-explanatory.  When you read – or listen to – the lyrics, there’s no need for analyzing.

Home

 West, on a plane bound west,
I see her stretchin’ out below:
Land, blessed Mother Land,
The place where I was born.

Scars, yeah she’s got her scars.
Sometimes it starts to worry me.
‘Cause lose, I don’t wanna lose
Sight of who we are.

From the mountains high
To the wave-crashed coast,
There’s a way to find
Better days, I know.

It’s been a long hard ride,
Got a ways to go;
But this is still the place
That we all call home.

Free, nothin’ feels like free,
Though it sometimes means
We don’t get along.
‘Cause same, no we’re not the same.
But that’s what makes us strong.

From the mountains high
To the wave-crashed coast,
There’s a way to find
Better days, I know.

It’s been a long hard ride,
Got a ways to go;
But this is still the place
That we all call home.

Brave, gotta call it brave
To chase that dream across the sea.
Names, then they signed their names
For something they believed.

Red, how the blood ran red;
We laid our dead in sacred ground.
Just think, wonder what they’d think
If they could see us now.

It’s been a long hard ride,
Got a ways to go;
But this is still the place
That we all call home.

It’s been a long hard ride,
And I won’t lose hope;
This is still the place
That we all call home.

Mama’s Losin’ It