The Story of Charlie

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Monday, August 24, 2009

WISHIN’ I’D LISTENED

by Stan C. Countz

CHORUS
I swore you’d be fine / I ignored all the signs
Couldn’t see the speed bumps up ahead
Toolin’ down the road / in automatic mode
While you were lyin’ in your bed
I was miles away / when you passed away
By the time I arrived, you were dead
Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said
Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said

VERSE 1
I was a “man on a mission” / unaware of your condition
Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said
Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said

Who knows when we will go? / how well can anyone tell?
The tides ebb and flow ‘til we all leave this shell
Til we all leave this shell

SHORT CHORUS
I swore you’d be fine / I ignored all the signs
Couldn’t see the road block up ahead
Toolin’ down the road / in automatic mode
While you were lyin’ in your bed
Now I’m wishin’ I’d listened to what the doctor said

INSTRUMENTAL/BRIDGE

No one knows where the wind will blow
When it’s time to come or time to go
Who knows where we will go or where we will be? for all eternity?
Who knows where we will go or where we will be? for all eternity?

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

THE MOUNTAIN MAN

Original lyrics by Stan Countz

Whether down on his luck or livin' high on the hog
He loved his ol' truck and he cut his own logs
He hated the traffic, the noise and the smog
But enjoyed the chase and the barkin' of dogs

Whether livin' in town or down in the dumps
He was a mountain man and he took his lumps
He paid his dues and he paid at the pumps
He trusted his friends and busted his hump

It may be hard for you and me to understand
But he loved the trees and he loved the land
Looked like Captain Hook but he was really Peter Pan
You see, in my book, he was a real mountain man

He didn't pull no punches
He told you where he stands
There ain't no 'free lunches"
He paid no heed to brands

It may be hard for you and me to understand
But he loved the trees and he loved the land
Looked like Captain Hook, but he was really Peter Pan
You see, in my book, he was a real mountain man

Monday, August 17, 2009

THE BAR HUNTER

by Stan C. Countz
[dedicated to his father, Charlie Countz and all hunters everywhere]

He loved the mountain air
He was always on the prowl
Cougar, coon or bear
Ooh them dogs could howl

I recall one night he'd searched ‘til light
But couldn’t quite find a bar
They came back late, tails between their legs
And heard a loud, sharp bark
They'd treed a bar right thar
In the back yard

When the night was serene and everyone was sleepin'
He'd be lost in some ravine callin', crawlin' and creepin'
So don't be bawlin' and weepin'
He ain't fallen, he's just sleepin'
So give thanks, he's leapin' for joy
'Cuz he's joined the ranks
Of the "good ol' boys"

His eyes will see the light
His ears will hear the sound
His face will shine so bright
He'll walk on solid ground

He was lost but now he's found
He was blind but now he sees
Hears the barkin' of a hound
He's got a bar up thar in a tree

Sunday, August 16, 2009

THAT CHARLIE GRIN

by Stan Countz

He loved to hunt; he was a mountain man
When he shook your hand – you knew it
But he couldn’t fish worth a damn
And if you fibbed– he saw through it

His favorite singer was Johnny Cash
He had his name carved on his belt
He wore a handlebar mustache
And told you just how he felt

Loved the smell of mountain air
A cup of coffee on a cold night
Trackin’ mountain lion and bear
And a good clean fight

He told great jokes
Just to make folks laugh
And his stories were just a kick
For many years, he smoked two packs
A day but I’m glad to say – he quit

He was fond of the ladies
Especially blondes
Loved puppies and babies
Rivers and ponds

Drove a truck; not a Mercedes
But now his keys are gone
He never made it to eighty
But he loved Ding Dongs

If I’d owned a magic wand
I’d have made him better
But his days of pain are gone
And he will live forever

In our hearts and memories
He’ll walk on golden streets
And one day we'll meet again
He'll ask us how we've been
And flash that Charlie grin

THE STORY OF CHARLIE

by Stan C. Countz
[dedicated to his father, Charlie Countz]

He grew up on a farm
Had looks and charm
Met mom in high school
Fell for her real hard

He was cool but she was smart
And I guess that was the start
Of the recipe for a broken heart
The recipe for a broken heart

He went to work milkin' cows
They had a baby on the way
He'd rather be huntin' hounds
Than workin' and slavin' away

The baby came and it was me
But I had no way of knowin'
He didn't know whether he
Was a comin' or a goin'

Moved to the bay a ways away
To make a brand new start
Worked night and day for higher pay
Came home way after dark

Guess that was part of the recipe
The recipe for a broken heart...

Two more boys, more mouths to feed
He was workin' hard all the time
He and mom were a different breed
They made us all tow the line

Moved back to the valley
Opened a little shop
Bought a little ranch
And raised a few crops

But when it came to drinkin'
He couldn't seem to stop
'Til one day he was hangin'
From a hundred foot drop

Somehow he came out without a scratch
But after that he became quite attached
To a group that showed a lot of promise
And he could even stay anonymous

He was still on the hunt and on the prowl
He drove a pickup truck, not a Mercedes
On moonlit nights you could hear him howl
And he still had a thing for the ladies

After 27 years, he divorced my mom
And she never quite knew why
He was a ticking time bomb
He just got tired of all the lies

He met a girl half his age
He thought she was real hot
Soon she took center stage
But she couldn't seem to stop

Though he stayed sober
Her drugs took over
And before too long
He showed her the door

She loved her buzz more than she loved him
There were lots of fish, so he threw her back in
The problem is he'd forgotten how to swim
He was drowning in a sea, a sea of sin

So he reached out and asked the Savior in
He believed in Jesus and he was born again
He went to church with his hat and his belt
Learned he can't love others 'til he loves himself

He went south of the border to help build a church
But he was more right wing than even John Burch
If your name wasn't written on your leather belt
You might as well be damned forever in Hell

He hung out a lot at Pizza Plus
But he didn't eat his Wheaties
He didn't want to make a fuss
So he developed diabetes

It was hard for him to swaller
They took away his keys
His world was growin' smaller
It was a disabling disease

His arteries were clogged
And his heart was weak
But he loved his dogs
And his dogs had fleas

His sight grew worse
And he could barely see
He yelled and cursed
Incessantly

His heart bypass made him take stock
When he had those strokes, he could barely talk
He would use his walker to help him walk
If he'd been your father, you'd have been shocked

But God is not mocked
What a man sows, he will reap
Whom the Lord saves, He can surely keep
He saves us from the wolves, for we are His sheep
So don't you cry and don't you weep
He didn't die, he's just asleep.