Song Lyrics

Little Girl

Little Girl ©2018 Rebecca Alfrey Music, BMI

Chorus

Little girl, how long you gonna run
Trying to find peace that you couldn’t find at home
Little girl, are you having fun
Looking for that man that’s long gone you don’t have to be alone anymore
Little girl

You grew up too fast, the wind in your face
Your childhood didn’t last, I know you lost your place
What I wouldn’t give to change the past, to give you a taste of the good life

Have you found the answer in the bottom of the bottles?
That I see in the pictures you send back home
Have you found the man that your daddy should’ve been?
In the bars where you don’t leave alone

Do you wake up at night and wonder about me
The way that I think of you
Are the stars aligned in this world of yours
Where we’ll be together soon

Bridge

My heart breaks for you, I wish that I could prove,
That there’s no need to keep running from the past,
But I can’t and I know that you’ll keep going,
Until you come to me at last, little girl.

 

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Song Lyrics

When the Bell Tolls

When the Bell Tolls, ©2018 Rebecca Alfrey Music, BMI

When the bell tolls and my time on earth is done
Will you cry for me, oh lovely one, will you cry for me?
When the bell tolls and I am no more
I’ll be walking on heaven’s bright shore, I’ll be walking there with my Lord

Verse 1
I’ve lived a long life, a good one, too, done all the things that I’m supposed to
I gave of myself, time and energy, shared all of the gifts that were given to me
Watched the death angel sweep through my town, bringing the poor and the rich down
We all mourn for those we’ve lost, cover our mirrors to help them across

Verse 2
Who will be there to lay my body out? Before I’m placed in the cold ground?
Who will sit and wait with me, until I’m gone and my soul is set free?
Don’t give me flowers or cry at my wake, I am not there, it’s too late
Just hold my hand as we go along, be here with me as we walk toward home

Bridge
I am here, I am home, I see the folks from long ago
I am here, I am free, just where I’ve longed to be
When the bell tolls and I am no more
I’ll be walking on heaven’s bright shore, I’ll be walking there with my Lord

Outro
I’ll be walking there with my Lord

Poetry

In The Country

In the Country, by Becki Alfrey ©2018

I like living in the country where big trucks don’t rumble by
At four o’clock in the morning
I like seeing the evening sky where the stars are free to shine
And be themselves
I like seeing the sunrise from my ridge top home so high
Shining its honest light down on me
I like hearing the birds sing
Watch them flit from tree to tree
Listen to them herald in the spring
And remind me of why
I live in the country
I like living next to people who make good friends, who’ll lend a helping hand
When you’ve done all you can
Who’ll sit and share a sip of something cold and share
While laughing at life itself so fair
I like watching my flowers grow until winters fury shows and they hide their heads once more in the shelter of their glory
Life is so sweet, it surely can’t be beat, taking it slow and sweet
In the country. 

Almost Fiction, Quick Read

That’s Not a Rabbit!

Along the same lines as the I’m Almost Sorry post, this story is a collaboration of memories from my older sister and I.  I don’t always trust my memories, especially of early childhood, as they seem to be muddied with fantasy and make believe.  So, with that being said, this is mostly true, at least what we can remember of it!  For those of you who didn’t grow up in the country life getting your legs nettled by a flimsy limb from a tree as a form of punishment, that’s called a switch!  Enjoy!

With Daddy being a preacher, we sometimes held prayer services or bible studies in our home.  There were a lot of us crammed in the tiny space that night.  The room was hot, the light from the lamp emitted warmth over top of the sweating bodies seated around the room.  Legs tangled and twisted as each person tried to make themselves comfortable whether on the floor, in one of the few pieces of furniture and some who were standing to get a bit of cool air.  I was sitting on someone’s lap on the long leatherette couch, holding a switch in my hand.  A switch that recently been used to nettle my legs because I was a mischievous child.

I can recall at least one family there, squished into this small room.  They had three kids, maybe four, but I really only remember their oldest daughter who was in her mid-teens at the time.  I don’t know if I can’t remember her name or if I’ve blocked it, but I remember her hair, oh, her hair!  This was the late 70’s and much like today’s fashion, anything went.  She let her long, black, curly and beautiful hair grow wild and then combed it out into a perfect ball of fluff.  Well, that’s how it looked in my little four year old mind.  I don’t recall the specifics of daddy’s message that night.  I do, however, recall a story that he told to make it memorable.

When he was a young lad (that’s what he called himself, having an Irish background), he and his brothers would go hunting for rabbits.  Rather than shoot them, they’d follow them to their burrows and put a stick into the burrow, winding it into their hair (I know, not nice to the rabbits at all…I’m just recollecting memories here) and pull them out.  Then, they killed them.  And ate them.  I digress.

Being the visual person that I am and now understand, I could see this so well.  Not the killing, the twirling of a stick into soft rabbit fur or the perfect ball of fluff sitting in the floor in front of me.  What daddy didn’t share, that I remember, was how they un-twirled the stick from the fur.  That would’ve been nice to have known!

So here I sit, on someone’s lap, having been crying for getting a spanking for acting out and they gave me the switch!  What kind of brilliant mind did this?  I don’t remember! I do know that they wished they hadn’t!  Trust me! I listened to daddy’s story, I visualized that cute little fluffy bunny rabbit and all that cute little fluffy bunny rabbit fur but I saw her cute, fluffy fur in front of me.

Oh, yes.  Yes, I went there!  Yes, I took the switch and wound it into her beautiful, curly, black, combed out fluffy hair and I wound it and wound it until it was tangled around the switch.  My four year old mind hadn’t quite figured out how to get it out, so I yanked.  Not once, not twice, not even three times, but over and over!  When she yelled, I pulled harder, trying to get my switch out of her hair.  She pulled and I pulled.  The results were not pretty.

She cried, I cried.  Her mother cradled her in her arms and attempted to assess the damage.  And there was damage!  When she pulled and I pulled, a lot of hair came out on the stick I’d twisted into her hair and left a perfect little round bald spot in the back of her head.  Not pretty.  Definitely painful!  I got spanked.  I got my hands smacked and then my bottom.  Not with the switch, though.  Just Momma’s hand.  Momma held the hair covered switch up in front of me and demanded to know what I was thinking.  This is what parents do to four year old’s who are the fifth child in the family.  They get treated like they’re much older and more mature than they really are.  “What were you thinking?” Momma demanded.

I may live to be a hundred and I don’t think I’ll ever forget my answer.  “I wanted to catch a rabbit.” I said, demurely, while sniffling back tears that trickled down my face.  “I just wanted to catch a rabbit like daddy.”

“Well, that’s not a rabbit!” was her retort.

 

 

 

 

Quick Read, Song Lyrics

I’m Getting Used to Lonesome

I’m Getting Used to Lonesome, ©2017 Rebecca Alfrey Music, BMI

You walked away, took my heart, left the key by the door,
Said I was better off without you, that you didn’t love me anymore

I’m getting used to lonesome, just me, myself and I
No one to tell me what to do, or how to live my life
I’m getting used to lonesome

No one complains about morning breath, the dog doesn’t seem to mind
If I drink my breakfast or leave a mess, as long as I feed him, he’s fine

I have my coffee, just like I want, bitter and strong
No use for sweetener since you’re not around, my need for sugar is gone

I moved your clothes and the things you left, to the box for the second hand store
Soaked with tears that I couldn’t stop falling, as I thought of the good times and more

My bed isn’t cold, as you’d expect, the dog, he keeps me quite warm
He doesn’t steal the blanket and freeze my feet, and he doesn’t snore

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry

The Dream

It was late that night, the bar almost closed,
Last call was soon to be near,
I packed up my baggage to take back home,
When he sat next to me, in the chair

No pick-up lines from this sad looking man,
Worry clearly had a hold on him,
He called for a shot, straight, not on the rocks,
Said to leave the bottle of gin

He offered me a sip of mother’s ruin,
Knocked back a shot or two,
Sighed real hard and wiped tears from his eyes,
My heart nearly broke in two

As much as I hated to, I asked how he was,
Knowing this could be a long night,
He said he’d had a bad dream and when he awoke,
He’d killed his true love with a knife

My first reaction was to bolt for the door,
Shocked, I was to the bone,
I reached for the bottle he’d left in front of me,
And drained it of a little bit more

I wanted to reach out, I wanted to run,
Not sure what I was to do,
I put myself in the place of this man,
And asked him a question or two

Turns out he’d loved her since he was nine,
Gave his heart to her back then,
They became sweethearts and married in time,
She was the one he believed in

He worked every day, from nine to five,
Sometimes a few hours more,
To give her the best that this world could offer,
And all that he could afford

One night last week, he came home late,
Dinner was still warm on the stove,
She wasn’t there, or so he thought,
Until he heard a moan

It seems that his true love wanted more,
Than he could give her each day,
Told him she was leaving and took all that he had,
And went on her merry way

Song Lyrics

This Is Me

This is Me, ©2017 Rebecca Alfrey Music, BMI

Jump out of bed, get dressed, gotta do my face and my hair,
Eyes and lips and lashes and nails, showin’ the world I’m there
Does buying all this stuff really mean I care?

Cho:
At night, when the face comes off and I’m undone, this is me.
Fresh and clean, if you know what I mean, this is me.
Comfy clothes, got my t-shirt on, the dog by my side and my favorite songs,
This is me.

Got my war paint on, headed out to work, gotta prove myself as a girl
Glass ceiling is high, but I can break through, taking on the world
Making my mark to prove a point, will it get me anywhere?

Headed to the wedding of Jenny and Joe, bought a gift I can’t afford
Gotta let them know how much I love them, by the price on their new toys
Doesn’t love just come from the heart?

Bridge:

I wanna run away, run back home, to the place where I belong
Let my hair down, lay aside my care and prove the world wrong
I just wanna, I just wanna, I just wanna….be me