Where I Was Born       (turn up your speakers & click on the song title)

©1993 James A Graves, Jr.            

 

Among the rolling hills my life was fine,

In the land where I was born,

I recall that the world was mine,

In the land where I was born,

Where I was born, where I was born.

 

The streams were clear and the water cold,

In the land where I was born,

I often hoped that I would grow old,

In the land where I was born,

Where I was born, where I was born.

 

We would run through woods of emerald green,

Hills alive with the sounds and smell of spring,

Oh, if I could just be young again,

And live the carefree life that we knew then.

 

The years go by and the faces change,

In the land where I was born.

They tell me life is better still,

In the land where I was born.

I always said I would return,

To the land where I was born.

Somehow I know that I never will,

And it causes me to mourn,

Where I was born,

Where I was born.

 

Among the rolling hills my life was fine,

In the land where I was born.

I recall that the world was mine,

In the land where I was born.

They tell me life is better still,

In the land where I was born.

I always said I would return,

To the land where I was born...

 

                Words & Music by J. Graves   

                Recorded and mixed at Graves-Scruggs Studio, Ponce de Leon, FL

                Vocals, Guitars, Mandolin, Bass & Synthesizer: J. Graves

 

Where I Was Born is an idyllic Folk-style tune about growing up in Northwest Florida. The rushing stream and singing birds heard at the beginning of the song was synthesized and not recorded live since there are no rushing, mountain streams in Florida.  But the sound of the rushing water reminds me of sitting at the head of Blue Lake Run on Morrison Spring Run at low water, watching the clear spring water gush from the spring run into Blue Lake Run.

 

I also love the rolling hills scattered across Northwest Florida.  I never gave much thought to the hills until I was in Euchee Valley one day, standing on top of a hill and watching a big buck loping along in the distance far below me.

I thought, dang! It’s a long way down there! 

Northwest Florida was a good place to grow up, and I liked living there.  I often dreaded the thought of leaving, but somehow I knew that it was inevitable, although I intended to come back home to live.  Well, I did have to leave, and, years later, I returned.  But what I found wasn’t home anymore.  Home was gone.  And, just as the song predicted, I never truly returned. 

 

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