Reason to Believe

Revisited this ol’ ditty tonight for reasons unknown to anyone (including myself) and must’ve listened to it seven or eight times before I realized that it’s way past my bed time.  Such a sad, sad song, but so sweet and sincere, too.   Arguably one of the best songs ever written, by Mr. Tim Hardin, but recorded and re-recorded by so many others.  The version I’m highlighting in this post is Johnny Cash’s rendition of the tune circa 1975.

Reason to Believe

If I listened long enough to you,
I’d find a way to believe that it’s all true.
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried–
Still I look to find a reason to believe…

Someone like you makes it hard to live without
Somebody else.
Someone like you makes it easy to give,
Never thinkin’ of myself…

If I gave you time to change my mind,
I’d find a way to leave the past behind.
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried–
Still I look to find a reason to believe…

If I listened long enough to you,
I’d find a way to believe that it’s all true.
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried–
Still I look to find a reason to believe…

-Tim Hardin

Southern Accents

Had this song stuck in my head for a while the other day, and I just felt like sharing. “Southern Accents” is technically Tom Petty’s song, but as soon as Johnny Cash recorded it, it officially became his.

This is a wonderfully honest song with one of the most beautiful and haunting bridges ever sung.

“For just a minute there, I was dreaming…”

There’s a southern accent, where I come from–
the young ‘uns call it country, the yankees call it dumb.
I got my own way of talkin’, but everything is done
with a southern accent, where I come from.

Now that drunk tank in Atlanta, was just a motel room to me.
Think I might go work Orlando, if them orange groves don’t freeze.
I’ve got my own way of working, but everything is run
with a southern accent, where I come from.

For just a minute there, I was dreaming…
For just a minute, it was all so real…
For just a minute, she was standing there, with me…

There’s a dream I keep having, where my mama comes to me
and kneels down over by the window, and says a prayer for me.
I’ve got my own way of praying, and everything one’s begun
with a southern accent, where I come from.

We’ve got our own way of living, and everything is done
with a southern accent, where I come from.

(apologies to both Tom Petty and The Man in Black)