To All Mothers of Rebellious Children

In my high school years I was really into Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen. For my seventeenth birthday I got a big silver book of Dylan's lyrics and later a smaller book of Springsteen's, and I soon found that their lyrics were complimented by alcohol. I spent many a night back then drinking whiskey out of a dixie cup in my bedroom, the crickets chirping outside my screen window, mesmerized by the lines of All Along the Watchtower and Thunder Road. As college came and went I slowly lost touch with those books and those lyrics, like I lost touch with a lot of things as my drinking progressed over the years.

 It was 2013 when I discovered Jason Isbell's album "Southeastern," an album on which Isbell reflects on his newfound sobriety, right around the time I was getting sober myself. I had known Isbell as a guitarist and vocalist for the band Drive By Truckers back in college, but those were different days. Some nights, when I catch myself studying the lyrics to some Isbell song on my phone or on my laptop, it feels like deja vu going back to those nights in high school; I feel young again.

Nine to Five

- banksy

Current Favorite Writer: Timothy Showalter

Heavy on the song lyrics lately. Doing lots of writing.

Black boots black jeans black beard

Walking down the street in the morning air

Then I lit up a cigarette and put my headphones on

And I listened to Van Etten sing

You gotta give out, give up, give out, give up, give out, give up, give in, give out, give up, give in

Give in, give in, give in, I was better than I felt in years

Then I looked to the streets and I looked to my fears

I know something was going round these tears

I was hurting people, so close to me

I spent those long years feeling so fucking bad

Take it even further back to darker times

When I drank too much and I took too much I lied to all my friends about who I was

But Caitlin listen to me now I'm all grown up

I spent two long years just losing my mind

Thank you Kristian for keeping me clean

And we're painted like the warriors. . .

You gotta heal. . .

- Strand of Oaks, "Heal"

Independence Day

I was an Indiana kid, gettin' no one in my bed

I had your sweet tunes to play

I was staring at the map, feeling fire in my head

I had your sweet tunes to play

I was mean to my dad, cause I was mean to myself

I had your sweet tunes to play

Stealing smokes in my car, with the windows way down

I had your sweet tunes to play, your sweet tunes to play

I was sittin' in the bath, cleaning off the ash

But I had your sweet tunes to play

And I hated all my friends, I wouldn't let them in

I had your sweet tunes to play

On a long desert train, and a knife in my bag

I had your sweet tunes to play

Under the Market Street Bridge, burning one in my hand

I had your sweet tunes to play

Your sweet tunes to play

I'm getting older every day, still living the same mistakes

I got your sweet tunes to play

Your sweet tunes to play

- Strand of Oaks, "JM"

Dylan.

Springsteen.

John Mellencamp.

Neil Young.

REK.

Isbell.