tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20129859392768318942024-03-07T23:40:17.221-08:00Mariposa Mountain ManDedicated to the memory of Charlie Countz
and all mountain men everywhere...Stan C. Countzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14104456004230817655noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012985939276831894.post-30297992845367704832009-08-24T22:32:00.000-07:002009-08-28T12:43:06.706-07:00WISHIN’ I’D LISTENED<span style="font-style:italic;">by Stan C. Countz</span><br /><br />CHORUS<br />I swore you’d be fine / I ignored all the signs<br />Couldn’t see the speed bumps up ahead<br />Toolin’ down the road / in automatic mode<br />While you were lyin’ in your bed <br />I was miles away / when you passed away<br />By the time I arrived, you were dead<br />Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said<br />Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said<br /><br />VERSE 1 <br />I was a “man on a mission” / unaware of your condition<br />Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said<br />Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said<br /> <br />Who knows when we will go? / how well can anyone tell?<br />The tides ebb and flow ‘til we all leave this shell<br />Til we all leave this shell<br /><br />SHORT CHORUS<br />I swore you’d be fine / I ignored all the signs<br />Couldn’t see the road block up ahead<br />Toolin’ down the road / in automatic mode<br />While you were lyin’ in your bed <br />Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said<br /><br />INSTRUMENTAL/BRIDGE<br /> <br />No one knows where the wind will blow <br />When it’s time to come or time to go<br />Who knows where we will go or where we will be? for all eternity?<br />Who knows where we will go or where we will be? for all eternity?Stan C. Countzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14104456004230817655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012985939276831894.post-66460360282642198182009-08-19T07:37:00.000-07:002009-08-21T08:45:46.709-07:00THE MOUNTAIN MAN<span style="font-style:italic;">Original lyrics by Stan Countz</span><br /><br />Whether down on his luck or livin' high on the hog<br />He loved his ol' truck and he cut his own logs<br />He hated the traffic, the noise and the smog<br />But enjoyed the chase and the barkin' of dogs<br /><br />Whether livin' in town or down in the dumps<br />He was a mountain man and he took his lumps<br />He paid his dues and he paid at the pumps<br />He trusted his friends and busted his hump<br /><br />It may be hard for you and me to understand<br />But he loved the trees and he loved the land<br />Looked like Captain Hook but he was really Peter Pan<br />You see, in my book, he was a real mountain man<br /><br />He didn't pull no punches<br />He told you where he stands<br />There ain't no 'free lunches"<br />He paid no heed to brands<br /><br />It may be hard for you and me to understand<br />But he loved the trees and he loved the land<br />Looked like Captain Hook, but he was really Peter Pan<br />You see, in my book, he was a real mountain manStan C. Countzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14104456004230817655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012985939276831894.post-31539729213926143942009-08-17T09:28:00.000-07:002009-08-21T22:56:11.615-07:00THE BAR HUNTER<span style="font-style:italic;">by Stan C. Countz</span><br />[dedicated to his father, Charlie Countz and all hunters everywhere]<br /><br />He loved the mountain air<br />He was always on the prowl<br />Cougar, coon or bear<br />Ooh them dogs could howl<br /><br />I recall one night he'd searched ‘til light<br />But couldn’t quite find a bar<br />They came back late, tails between their legs <br />And heard a loud, sharp bark<br />They'd treed a bar right thar <br />In the back yard<br /><br />When the night was serene and everyone was sleepin'<br />He'd be lost in some ravine callin', crawlin' and creepin'<br />So don't be bawlin' and weepin'<br />He ain't fallen, he's just sleepin'<br />So give thanks, he's leapin' for joy <br />'Cuz he's joined the ranks <br />Of the "good ol' boys"<br /><br />His eyes will see the light<br />His ears will hear the sound<br />His face will shine so bright<br />He'll walk on solid ground<br /><br />He was lost but now he's found<br />He was blind but now he sees<br />Hears the barkin' of a hound<br />He's got a bar up thar in a treeStan C. Countzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14104456004230817655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012985939276831894.post-86712518416370462042009-08-16T22:59:00.000-07:002009-08-21T08:40:34.434-07:00THAT CHARLIE GRIN<span style="font-style:italic;">by Stan Countz</span><br /><br />He loved to hunt; he was a mountain man<br />When he shook your hand – you knew it<br />But he couldn’t fish worth a damn<br />And if you fibbed– he saw through it<br /><br />His favorite singer was Johnny Cash<br />He had his name carved on his belt<br />He wore a handlebar mustache<br />And told you just how he felt<br /><br />Loved the smell of mountain air<br />A cup of coffee on a cold night<br />Trackin’ mountain lion and bear<br />And a good clean fight<br /><br />He told great jokes <br />Just to make folks laugh<br />And his stories were just a kick<br />For many years, he smoked two packs<br />A day but I’m glad to say – he quit<br /><br />He was fond of the ladies<br />Especially blondes<br />Loved puppies and babies<br />Rivers and ponds<br /><br />Drove a truck; not a Mercedes<br />But now his keys are gone<br />He never made it to eighty<br />But he loved Ding Dongs<br /><br />If I’d owned a magic wand <br />I’d have made him better<br />But his days of pain are gone<br />And he will live forever<br /><br />In our hearts and memories<br />He’ll walk on golden streets<br />And one day we'll meet again<br />He'll ask us how we've been<br />And flash that Charlie grinStan C. Countzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14104456004230817655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2012985939276831894.post-88959979447214318842009-08-16T09:46:00.000-07:002009-08-21T22:53:57.595-07:00THE STORY OF CHARLIE<span style="font-style:italic;">by Stan C. Countz</span><br />[dedicated to his father, Charlie Countz]<br /><br />He grew up on a farm<br />Had looks and charm<br />Met mom in high school<br />Fell for her real hard<br /><br />He was cool but she was smart<br />And I guess that was the start<br />Of the recipe for a broken heart<br />The recipe for a broken heart<br /><br />He went to work milkin' cows<br />They had a baby on the way<br />He'd rather be huntin' hounds<br />Than workin' and slavin' away<br /><br />The baby came and it was me<br />But I had no way of knowin'<br />He didn't know whether he<br />Was a comin' or a goin'<br /><br />Moved to the bay a ways away<br />To make a brand new start<br />Worked night and day for higher pay <br />Came home way after dark<br /><br />Guess that was part of the recipe<br />The recipe for a broken heart...<br /><br />Two more boys, more mouths to feed<br />He was workin' hard all the time<br />He and mom were a different breed<br />They made us all tow the line<br /><br />Moved back to the valley <br />Opened a little shop<br />Bought a little ranch<br />And raised a few crops<br /><br />But when it came to drinkin'<br />He couldn't seem to stop<br />'Til one day he was hangin'<br />From a hundred foot drop<br /><br />Somehow he came out without a scratch<br />But after that he became quite attached<br />To a group that showed a lot of promise<br />And he could even stay anonymous<br /><br />He was still on the hunt and on the prowl<br />He drove a pickup truck, not a Mercedes<br />On moonlit nights you could hear him howl<br />And he still had a thing for the ladies<br /><br />After 27 years, he divorced my mom<br />And she never quite knew why<br />He was a ticking time bomb<br />He just got tired of all the lies<br /><br />He met a girl half his age<br />He thought she was real hot<br />Soon she took center stage<br />But she couldn't seem to stop<br /><br />Though he stayed sober<br />Her drugs took over<br />And before too long<br />He showed her the door<br /><br />She loved her buzz more than she loved him<br />There were lots of fish, so he threw her back in<br />The problem is he'd forgotten how to swim<br />He was drowning in a sea, a sea of sin<br /><br />So he reached out and asked the Savior in<br />He believed in Jesus and he was born again<br />He went to church with his hat and his belt<br />Learned he can't love others 'til he loves himself<br /><br />He went south of the border to help build a church<br />But he was more right wing than even John Burch<br />If your name wasn't written on your leather belt<br />You might as well be damned forever in Hell<br /><br />He hung out a lot at Pizza Plus<br />But he didn't eat his Wheaties<br />He didn't want to make a fuss<br />So he developed diabetes <br /><br />It was hard for him to swaller<br />They took away his keys<br />His world was growin' smaller<br />It was a disabling disease<br /><br />His arteries were clogged <br />And his heart was weak<br />But he loved his dogs<br />And his dogs had fleas<br /><br />His sight grew worse<br />And he could barely see<br />He yelled and cursed<br />Incessantly<br /><br />His heart bypass made him take stock<br />When he had those strokes, he could barely talk<br />He would use his walker to help him walk<br />If he'd been your father, you'd have been shocked <br /><br />But God is not mocked<br />What a man sows, he will reap<br />Whom the Lord saves, He can surely keep<br />He saves us from the wolves, for we are His sheep<br />So don't you cry and don't you weep<br />He didn't die, he's just asleep.Stan C. Countzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14104456004230817655noreply@blogger.com0