Because he called the forest brother
Because he called the earth his mother
They drove him out into the rain
And some people even said
That the boy from the country was insane
Because he spoke with fish in the creek
He tried to tell us that the animals could speak
And who knows, maybe they do
Hey, how do you know they don't
Just because they've never spoken to you
Boy from the country
Left his home when he was young
Boy from the country
He loves the sun
He tried to tell us that we should love the land
We just turned our heads and laughed
You see we did not understand
But you know sometimes I think
The boy from the country
Must be the only one who sees
Because the boy from the country
Doesn't want to see the forest
He'd rather see the trees
Boy from the country
Left his home when he was young
Boy from the country
He loves the sun
If you are a fan of contemporary guitar there are two names you already know: session player Lenny Breau (1941-1984), the Segovia of the genre, and songwriter John Coburn Stewart (1939-2008). Do not confuse the latter with Rod Stewart, who, as the Ted Williams of music, never wrote a bad song in his life. John Stewart was the Babe Ruth of the industry, specializing in home runs while leading the league in strikeouts. We overlook cacophanies like "Bellyful of Tennessee" or "Hero From the War" that can make a listener envy the deaf, we recognize some of the hits he wrote, co-wrote or arranged: "Tom Dooley" (as a replacement for Dave Guard with the Kingston Trio), "Daydream Believer" (for the Monkees) and "Gold". Without question, though, his masterpieces remain unrecognized by the public.
Some may be familiar with "Survivors", used in Hillary Clinton's campaign for universal health care in the early 1990s.
Children in Cheyenne Are taught in their schools: Believe in the country Don't break any rules But the T.V. is on and they Know something's wrong Someone must tell them To keep pushing on
At the five minute mark of "John Stewart Memorial" a retired, enervated reminisces about the country's last whistlestop campaign with Bobby and Ethel Kennedy, days before the assassination. A number of John's songs commemorate the loss of the Kennedy's.
It was more than Indiana, it was more than South Dakota It was more than California, it was more than Oregon It was a race against time, it was always on our minds And he died on the road
And if three Wishes came into my life I'd say one Was to gaze into your eyes And I'd say two Would be turning back our lives And three's a long way to go For that kind of wind to blow A long time ago We were dreamers on the rise
Inside and outside the realm of political writing, John Stewart remains among the most eclectic, prolific and proficient songwriters of the 20th Century. He's not quite the lyricist that Cohen was (no one is), the composer that Cat Stevens remains, the performer that Peter Gabriel can be or the prosodist that John Prine is, but it is difficult to imagine a better quadruple threat in the last half century. His influence on the music world is incalculable. For example, Lindsay Buckingham of Fleetwood Mac fame learned to play guitar from listening to John Stewart albums.
"The Last Hurrah" serves as both an elegy for John's friend, Bobby Kennedy, but as Stewart's own biography. In Memphis, Tennessee, he was forsaken by sponsors who chose to promote his buddies, Kris Kristofferson, instead. In Los Angeles his prospects were dashed by record producers who, contrary to expectations, viewed John's Democratic politics with antipathy. This parallelism makes these lyrics all the more remarkable.
Lyrics:
Clear the tracks, the song's been taken This may be the last hurrah In Tennessee they were forsaken L.A. was the coup de grace
Clean your guns, the battle's over They belong now to the wind The saddest words I've ever spoken Were the words "It might have been"
And it's all right, it's only music It is singing in the stars Keep your dreams as clean as silver This may be the last hurrah
Loyal friends and front row dancers Hitch you wagon to a star A chilly wind blew cold this morning This may be the last hurrah
And it's all right, it's only music It is singing in the stars Keep your dreams as clean as silver This may be the last hurrah This may be the last hurrah
