Thursday, December 3, 2009

A REAL JOB

by Stan C. Countz

1st CHORUS
Hey, they all say, “get a real job”; one that’ll pay, yessiree Bob
Update your resume; polish off your blog
It’s a new day, find a new job

VERSE 1
But I say “no one will pay me what I’m worth
Wanna do somethin’ great, do it best and first”
They’re drivin’ me insane; let me try to explain
Spent most of my life drivin’ in the fast lane
But what have I lost and what have I gained?
Was it worth the cost; was it worth the pain?
Like dusty rose petals, without a drop of rain
When the dust finally settles, what will still remain?

2nd CHORUS
But they all say, “get a real job”; one that’ll pay, yessiree Bob
It seems like only yesterday; I was sittin’ on a wad
It’s a new day, honest to God

VERSE 2
But the clock is tickin’, I’m quickly runnin’ out of steam
The sands are shiftin’, should I give up on my dreams?
The land grows dark; we’re runnin’ out of day
I wanna leave a mark before I’m old and gray
What will my family say about me when I’m gone?
“He made a lot of money” or will they sing my songs?
Will they recall all the time I spent mowin’ the lawn?
Or will they remember that day we played in the pond?

3rd CHORUS
‘Cuz they all say, “get a real job”; one that’ll pay, don’t be a slob
Ain’t bein’ cheesy, so help me God
It ain’t as easy as fallin’ off a log

BRIDGE
It’s time I give myself a pep talk and stop cryin’ in my beer
Stop thinkin’ ‘bout takin’ a long walk off a short pier
Should’ve left the grandstand and got off my rear
I’m gonna try my hand at a new career

VERSE 3
I’ve been meaning to do it all my life
To be a better husband to my wife
To write those songs I’ve been meaning to write
To right what’s wrong if it takes all night
Stop and smell the flowers / breathe the mountain air
Sing in the shower / weave flowers in my hair
Play in the leaves / take longer walks
Pray on my knees / skip a few rocks

OUTRO
But they all say, “get a real job”
Get your head out of the clouds, get out of the fog
By now I can say I think I found the right job
Gonna make some new friends, find myself and God
Gonna make amends with my ‘ol fishin’ rod
Then I can say I’ve got a “reel” job

Friday, November 27, 2009

WE DON’T SELL THAT HERE

by Stan C. Countz

Gotta roll out of the sack; don’t wanna miss that sale
Everything’s right on track down to the last detail
The clothes are on the racks; the slips, slacks and teddies
We’re finally in the black and the cash registers are ready

We’ve watched the game and eaten our turkey dinner
Our tummys are full and we’re cheering on the winner
Now we’re looking over inserts in the Thursday paper
Our Christmas money will disappear as if in a vapor

CHORUS
Pushin’ and shovin’ for a microwave oven
They’ve waited all year for that fishin’ gear
What they really need is some good lovin’
But we don’t sell that here
It's not about Christmas cheer
Or who steers Santa's reindeer
What they really need is His grace and peace
But we don’t sell that here

The merchandise is tagged and tidy and the cash registers are ringing
Shopper’s Paradise: it’s Black Friday and our customers are singing
Been workin’ hard on our displays; been stocking all our shelves
Worked hard all year to pay Uncle Sam; now we can pay ourselves

They think they need a Christmas tree; holly, beads and bells
But what they really need is to hit their knees
Not reindeer, greed and elves
It’s not about campin’ outdoors or trampin’ through the stores
It’s about lovin’ others more than we love ourselves

All they think they need is an MP3 player
And we just so happen to have one on sale
But what they really need can only be found in prayer
God’s love is the only thing that never fails
But we don't sell that here (x2)

That Ipod you just can’t live without is just too complicated
That HD TV you’ve heard so much about Is slightly over-rated
Who cares if it’s slim and sleek? It’ll be outdated in a week
The latest gadget sittin’ on the shelf will soon be an antique

OUTRO
Pushin’ and shovin’ for a microwave oven
They’ve waited all year for that fishin’ gear
What they really need is some good lovin’
But we don’t sell that here
They think they need a Christmas tree
Holly, beads and bells
But what they really need is to hit their knees
Not reindeer, greed and elves
It’s not about campin’ outdoors
Or trampin’ through the stores
It’s about lovin’ others more
Than we love ourselves
It’s not about Christmas cheer
Or who steers Santa’s reindeer
What they really need Is His grace and peace
But we don’t sell that here
--
Stan Countz, lyricist
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