This intimate six-track EP explores identity, values, and simple truths through a country lens. At its heart is a heartfelt tribute to Dolly Parton, celebrating her authenticity and generous spirit that defines the best of country tradition.
The collection weaves together personal reflections on finding yourself, choosing substance over superficiality, and the relationships that sustain us. Each song asks fundamental questions: Who are we when everything falls away? What legacy do we leave? How do we stay true while growing?
Musically, the EP embraces classic country storytelling with warm, acoustic-driven arrangements - like front-porch conversations set to melody. The production stays intimate and organic, allowing space for the vulnerable truth-telling that country music does best.
Themes: Authenticity vs. pretense, wisdom in simplicity, honoring trailblazers, small-town values in a big world, and the courage to be genuinely yourself.
Country music for anyone needing to remember what really matters - whether you're a lifelong fan or just need "a little country" wisdom in your life.

[DAUGHTER]
"Dad... you never really talk about the old days...
What were you like... before?"

[FATHER ]
"Before what, sweetheart?"

[SON]
"Before you settled down... before me and Jess... when you were... you know... out there."

[FATHER]
Started out with no name worth keeping
Just a poncho and a bad attitude
Drifted into towns like smoke
Left the same way
Nobody asked questions
I didn't offer answers
Back then I thought mystery
Was the same thing as strength
Turns out it was just loneliness
Dressed up fancy

[DAUGHTER]
"Were you scared?"

[FATHER]
"Every day

[DAUGHTER]
But fear keeps you alive
Out there"


[FATHER]
I collected dollars
And enemies
Sometimes it was hard
To tell the difference
The good, the bad, the ugly...
I've been all three
Depending on who was asking
And what day it was
Your hands remember
Every trigger pulled
Even when your mind
Tries to forget

[DAUGHTER]
"Do you regret it?"

[FATHER]
Regret's a luxury
I couldn't afford then
Now...
Now I got time for it"
Somewhere along the way
I stopped being the man
With no name
Started being the man
With too many names
Legend, killer
Hero, villain
Depends on who's telling the story
But out here
With you
With this fire
With this coffee that tastes
Like morning instead of whiskey...

I'm just your dad
And that's the only name
That matters anymore

[DAUGHTER]
"Are you happy now?"

[FATHER]
"Happy's another luxury
I'm learning to afford
One cup of coffee at a time"

The frontier's gone now
Towns got names
Roads got signs
Law's got rules

But sitting here
With you asking questions
I never learned to answer...

Maybe this is what
I was riding toward
All along

[DAUGHTER ]
"Will you tell me more stories sometime?"

[FATHER]
"Yeah, sweetheart
I reckon I will"

A Little Country (One)

The Only Name That Matters

Verse 1:
I can still feel Mama's hands braiding my hair 
Before school in that little cabin 
Daddy's old guitar leaning by the stove 
Had more cracks than strings
But Lord, how it could sing

I remember standing on that old wood crate 
So I could reach the kitchen counter 
Singing harmony while Mama kneaded bread 
Never dreaming anybody else might want to hear

Chorus:
I never set out to be anybody special 
Just a girl with too many songs in her head 
Now they play my music in places I can't pronounce 
But I still write 'em here where it all began

Verse 2:
I'll never forget that first day in Nashville 
Cardboard suitcase held together with tape
Porter Wagoner looked at me like I was crazy 
Till I opened my mouth and sang "Dumb Blonde"
Stayed up all night in that little apartment 
Writing down every melody in my head 
Afraid if I went to sleep they'd disappear
 Like morning mist back home in the mountains

Chorus:
I never set out to be anybody special 
Just a girl with too many songs in her head 
Now they play my music in places I can't pronounce 
But I still write 'em here where it all began

Bridge:
Got a letter yesterday from a little girl in Mississippi 
Said she's reading her first book 'cause of the library 
I just smiled and poured another cup of coffee 
Thinking 'bout that little cabin where books were scarce
When they called about the vaccine research 
I just said "Well, honey, how much do you need?" 
Ain't no point in having blessings 
If you don't pass 'em around like biscuits

Verse 3:
Hollywood tried to change me for a while 
Said I was "too country," "too much" 
But I kept wearing my own dresses 
Kept singing in my own voice
Now I got a theme park with my name on it 
Kids laughing on rides I dreamed up 
But my favorite sound is still Mama's old hymns 
Echoing through these mountains

Final Chorus
I never set out to be anybody special 
Just a girl with too many songs in her head 
Now they play my music in places I can't pronounce 
But I still write 'em here where it all began
Yeah, I still write 'em here 
Where it all began

Outro:
Coffee's getting cold 
But the songs keep coming 
Some things never change 
Thank the good Lord above

Ode to Dolly

Dancing Both Parts

Dawn splits the harbor like a mirror's heart—
one edge holds moonlight's silver, one holds sun;
here in our blood two dancers learn their part:
the warrior's thrust, the weaver's thread undone.

Through the Wintergardens where dancers' shadows blend
like smoke and flame through twilight's tattered veil,
their primal powers break, transform, transcend—
half-tiger, half-dove on the evening's trail.

Each gesture writes its truth in blood and bone:
the masculine arrow, feminine spiral flight;
while children spin through dusk winds, free, unknown,
their spirits whole before we taught them 'right'.

In Myers Park where dawn mist parts the air,
two spirits dance what one soul learns to bear.

Dancing Both Parts

Mountain Love

A great Bear lived in solitude
In a cave on the mountain face
Six cold months and no food
Heart beating a slower pace
Winter had stolen his door key
Locked him away from light
In the silence, just him and the mountain
Through the endless, frozen night

But spring returns the key
In bird song on the tree
Notes dancing green to blue
Making everything new

Spring returned it back anew
In Bird's beak on the singing tree
Notes pirouette from green to blue
Setting the great Bear's spirit free

Spring returns the key
In bird song on the tree
Notes dancing green to blue
Making everything new

Bear, don't stop singing, please
My body desires dance and play
Not even great winter's freeze
Can hold back this first spring day's celebration
Little Bird, sing again little bird
Tweet your sweet birdsong
Stay with me here on the mountain

I fly

And with that, she was gone
Into the endless blue
But the Bear's heart still holds her song
And the dance that love can do

A great Bear lives in solitude
But now he knows the key
Love comes and goes like seasons
But the song lives eternally

Mountain Love

The Wolf I Feed

There's a wolf in my living room
Lounging on the couch I never sit on
Remote in paw flipping through channels
Of memories I pretend don't exist

I've tried to ignore him
But he raids my fridge at night
Leaves muddy paw prints on the linoleum
Trails of my denied wildness scatter
Across the pristine floors of my ego

In the basement of my dreams
His howls echo like forgotten truths
Rage, desire, power, fear
Each note a part I've caged away

Maybe it's time to pull up a chair
Crack open a beer hear what he has to say
After all these shadows are mine to claim
Might as well get acquainted with their teeth

I reach out hand trembling
To touch his fur it's softer than imagined
Like the gentle side of darkness
As my fingers sink in the wolf dissolves
Smoke and shadow seeping through my skin

In the mirror my eyes gleam with wilderness
My smile shows a hint of fang
The remote grows hairs forgotten on the floor

THE WOLF I FEED

The Wolf I Feed

A love letter from an plane describing the beauty of below. How beautiful this world is ...we need to be reminded over and over...Transcendent Perspective: How aerial consciousness reveals the Self's wholeness - seeing all aspects of existence as interconnected and beautiful. From my upcoming book "Breakfast with Jung" Chapter 8 The Self

Whispers from a Moonlit World

Darling, I'm on the Cessna one seven two Skyhawk
It's noisy inside the cabin, so I'll write this down
We are descending from the heavens
Below a landscape of white smooth as a baby's bottom
Snow-covered hills roll like frozen waves
Pine trees and forests stand silent
Branches laden with crystalline jewels, crystalline jewels

Icy rivers meander through the terrain
Carving paths like veins on a white canvas
They glisten beneath the moon's glow
Guiding a path through the frigid forest
A full moon rises on the horizon
She's a luminous orb casting her spell on the night
The sky's a magician wearing a deep black velvet
Cloak that wraps the globe

Wow, there among the frosted pines
Honeymoon haven from twenty years back
That little wooden log and stone cabin, walls still strong
Windows aglow beaconing eyes of amber
Looks like Mini Mouse from here
Family of deer, such ginger steps
Hooves sink into the soft, powdery snow
Their breath a misty cloud in the frozen air
They graze, the only sound
Crunching of snow beneath their feet

Snowflakes drift like a whisper
Moon's silver beams bathe the landscape
Shadows dance and intertwine with the light
Slow lovemaking between sheets of darkness and illumination
Under a blanket of lace, a blanket of lace
The vast expanse of snow becomes an ocean
A sea of shimmering ice and cold
Hills islands of praying monks
In a world of silence and beauty

Frozen waterfalls hang like crystal curtains
Falling torrents now suspended in time
Glinting icy spectacle
Can you see the solitude of the full moon's night
And can you surrender and lose yourself
In this hushed lullaby
Of a slumbering world, a slumbering world

Whispers from a Moonlit World

S F H music Auckland, New Zealand

Poet • Performer • Lyricist • Composer

Stephen Hollins is a New Zealand-born Renaissance artist whose four-decade career spans many genres of theatre, opera, improvisation, performance, poetry, writing and music. He transforms his poetry into songs blending psychology, performance, innovation and technology to create emotionally resonant and meaningful music.

His latest project, "Breakfast with Jung," is a groundbreaking multimedia collection exploring Carl Jung's psychological concepts through poetry and music—transforming a 400-page manuscript of 135 poems into a nine-album/chapter series that makes depth psychology accessible through an intimate musical and poetical journey toward the authentic Self that mirrors Jung's work.
"Support my music: https://sfhmusic.bandcamp.com"

New tracks tagged ##Chill, #Love, #The Self