No, He's Not an Old Man....

--- but he plays one in this song. I like telling stories with the songs I write, and in this one, an old man looks back on a long and satisfying life.

I think Craig does a great job in his role as The Elderly Gentleman, despite the fact that he's a rather hunky-looking, middle-aged guy with more than a few good years left in him.

"I'll Fly Away" is a tip o' the hat to the gospel song we enjoy singing here at home. Lyrics are below.



You tube link: here.

I'll Fly Away
words and music © Erin Coombs Friedman

I been called a stubborn cuss
Set like cement in my ways
Start too many stories with
“Back in my day”
But my glory days are memories
And the best of me ain’t what it used to be
I won’t dig in my heels when it’s time to leave

Chorus:

I’ve been loved more than I deserve
Saved by a good woman and the Word
Won some high-priced victories
Made mistakes, made my peace
When the choir sings for me
I’ll Fly Away
I’ll Fly Away
I’ll Fly Away

Was headed down a wicked road
When she laid her hand in mine
Raised me up with a touch
Made me proud to walk the line
Good times and bad, we were blessed
From lullabies to empty nest
Ready for what the good Lord’s planning next

And the Oscar for best perfomance by a Christmas Decoration goes to....

......Drosselmeyer, the plastic owl.

During December, our owl perches at the top of our Christmas tree:

The rest of the year he bides his time in the front hall. But last week he was conscripted to duty just outside the front door. His mission: Keep those blasted, messy chickens from soiling our front porch.

Drosselmeyer has taken to his new role as "Menacing Bird of Prey" with relish, and the chickens have abandoned the porch for more hospitable stomping grounds. The front porch is litter-free.

Or maybe it's a coincidence and the hens are having a good chicken-chuckle behind my back. Whatever. I am considering a few more owls. Or maybe fewer chickens.

Here's our one-and-only chicken song, dedicated to those feisty critters:

You tube link: Here.

Possum in the Hen House
words and music © Erin Coombs Friedman

Possum in the Hen House

Once upon a time, I was a journalist. The best thing about making the transition from journalist to songwriter is that I can tell the truth the way it should be.

Possum in the Hen House got its start one hot summer night, when we awoke to the sounds of our beloved chickens hurling themselves against the fence and a chorus of frantic chicken voices begging "LET US OUT!!"

The video stars our three chickens: Chirp, Harley and Killer. These ladies are retired from the egg-laying business but still provide us with much entertainment. And occasional inspiration.

Possum in the Hen House
words and music © Erin Coombs Friedman



Night full-a pickin -- belly full-a beans
Full moon shining through the trees
Settle in to catch some zzz’s
But papa won’t sleep tonight

Possum in the Hen House
Midnight chicken fight
Possum in the Hen House
Papa won’t sleep tonight

Our chickens are no docile brood
They’ll fuss and fight and they’ll abuse
Any critter dare disturb their roost
Like the Possum in the Hen House

They’re the bad birds of the neighborhood
Meanest chicks in Cottonwood
Twas a fowl deed and they done it good
To the Possum in the Hen House

Possum in the Hen House
Midnight chicken fight
Possum in the Hen House
Papa won’t sleep tonight

Feathers flew – the battle raged
A friendly late night search for eggs
Ended at the pearly gates
For The Possum in the Hen House

Their cruelty rivaled KFC’s
That fascist flock of feathered fiends
Made marsupial mincemeat
Of the Possum in the Hen House

Possum in the Hen House
Midnight chicken fight
Possum in the Hen House
Papa won’t sleep tonight