A deliberate unresolvable problem - a war not to be won, but perpetually waged. 
A passage near the end summarizes my feelings about this divisive game, as follows:

And I’ve watched it through the decades,  and I’ve come to the conclusion,
It will never change.
It makes me sad to tell my children, “When you become my age,
It will be the same.”
Lyrics...
Yes we’ve come a long way Son
But never can enough be done
We won’t let you down, my Son
No we won’t let this war be won

So Hands Up, lift ‘em high, keep the word alive
Hands Up, forever must the narrative survive
If you wear your bloody bandage well
The world can watch you lose
It gives us so much more to use
Trust us Son…..we do it all for you.

Reach into the well my Son, of bottomless dependence
Deep pockets to the left will keep it fed
Draw from it your victimhood, be handed down your sentence
Your children can still serve it when you’re dead

So c’mon now….	

Hands Up, lift ‘em high, keep the word alive
Hands Up, forever must the narrative survive
A permanent emergency, the crisis never dies
It’s eternal shame & strife
You may see a finish line….
Oh Son, but you can’t cross !!

Hands Up !!  Hands Up !!

And the grifters & their ilk, craft issues to be milked
They convince the shy, you will never fly
Till the Eagle has been killed
Fresh soldiers train in the ivy halls
And the scholars preach, come heed the call
Flaunt the wounds, provoke the pain
And open up the sores
Come & pick the scab, and let it bleed, bleed, bleed

See you have to understand my Son…

No we can’t ever let it heal
It’s our transfusion, our cover shield
God knows what would be revealed
If they ever peel it back….

And I’ve watched it through the decades
And I’ve come to the conclusion
It will never change
It makes me sad to tell my children
When you become my age
It will be the same

Hands Up, Hands Up

In 1965 the heroes gave their lives to change the rules
In 2065 the hustlers still will seek this fight to use....

Hands Up !! (Keep the Word Alive)

More Americans died in the American Civil War than in any other war in our country's history, including each of the World Wars.

Across the American South, mostly from the 1890's through the 1910's, hundreds of commemoratives were erected to honor men who fought and/or died in this bloody Civil War, which had ended in 1865. Some of these structures, especially in the cities, were elaborate towering statues of generals on horseback, but in the small towns, the monuments were mostly modest, maybe of a single soldier in uniform, or sometimes just an inscripted stone.
Many, if not most, of these monuments were erected under the guidance of a women's civic group called the Daughters of the Confederacy (referred to in my song as The Daughters). At the time, most of the DOC members were actual daughters (or sisters or nieces or wives) of men who fought and/or perished in the war. Most of the DOC structures stood for well over a century, but in recent years, many have either been violently torn down, or removed by local governments.
My song is not about, but was inspired by, the story of Sydney Lanier, a world renowned American poet in the late 1800's. His namesake is all over the USA today - on parks, highways, lakes, and buildings, including, until recently, a middle school in Houston, Texas, built and named for him in the 1930's. In 2019, when the Houston school board discovered that a young Lanier had enlisted as a private in the Confederate Army, his name was purged from the school and all school materials, against the wishes of almost every parent. (Lanier had toiled for two years as an obscure private before being captured by the Union Army and imprisoned until the war's end.)
The board decided that, despite Lanier's wonderful later contributions to society, his name could not be associated with both the school and the "wrong side" of America's civil war, which had ended over 150 years prior.

The attached picture is the inscription on the base of a statue of a lone uniformed soldier, standing in a park in Dallas, Georgia, a small town about 30 miles northwest of Atlanta.

Small American Town

A few years ago, one of our presidential candidates referred to those who had the audacity to vote for the other candidate as "Deplorables".   It occurred to me that my family and I might fall into that "deplorable" category, so I thought I would offer a little insight into the daily life of us deplorables, or at least the perception of us by many of the social / political elites.               (pictured: the twins)

Adorable Deplorables

Look at a U.S. map, and draw a straight line from Natchez, Mississippi to Richmond, Virginia.  Then cross it with another line from Savanna, Georgia to Memphis, Tennessee.  Next draw a circle around the outside tips of each line.        The area you've encircled is the subject of this song.
     There is so much spectacular beauty in this world, but I just have never found another place that can compare to a thick old growth Appalachian forest or the rolling hardwood and pine hills of central Alabama or middle Tennessee.
      I grew up there but don't get to go back often enough.
      The song's title White Spangled Hills is reference to the dogwood tree, which grows wild throughout the area, coloring the wooded hillsides with its white blooms for a month or so in early Spring.

White Spangled Hills

Rich, pampered girl from Abilene, Texas meets a trail-worn cowboy with a checkered past, and they head north to avoid her family's scrutiny. It's a doomed relationship from the start, of course, and only lasts until the snow breaks.  Abilene comes calling - she heads back home and the cowboy does what all cowboys in trouble do (at least in the songs I listen to) - he splits for the border.  True story?  Maybe...
 
The timeline in the song is a little convoluted - begins in the middle and then back to the start, then to the end and back to the middle etc.,..   But you old cowhands will figure it out.

Female voices are Julia Avery and Madison Carr.
 
And the winter would pass......

When Abilene Calls

Now July 2022.....have we finally decided that it's time to get on with our lives?  Are better days here yet?  Beginning to feel like it.......

Better Days (Will Be Here Soon)

She's left him, but his nights are still filled with pleasant dreams about her.
His days aren't so pleasant.

Sweet Dreams

A song for the millions of ordinary Americans who are searching for a voice, but are ignored, labeled, and ridiculed by the media, modern social culture,  academia, and the Washington D.C. establishment.

Are You The One (We've Been Waiting For)

Out on the porch, pickin' & grinnin' & drinking beer, waiting for the fiddle player and the mandolin guy. Neither one showed, so we did the best we could with the guitars. My daughter Julia helped out on the vocal harmonies.

This little ditty is my attempt to musically chronicle the 43 years my wife & I have been together.

Popular tracks by Bruce Avery