Tracking The Early Year: New Mexico Boy Part II

(Part one of this non-saga lives here). "New Mexico Boy" was pretty fully formed by the time I was playing it out a lot, but it's actually gone through a few major "renovations," if you will, to get it to the version you hear on The Early Year. It's a long song. It has five verses. That's indulgent, but I like them all, so I wasn't going to chuck anything out. It got its first facelift when I was at the Life's A Song workshop with Terri Hendrix. We got some one-on-one time with Terri to go over whatever we wanted, and I played her this song. She had the same assessment about the length. At that time the chorus was: Drunk on Friday, home by 2 AM Mass on Sunday, bread and wine again You wonder who's your saint Cuz sure as hell you ain't Does confession to the Mother bring you joy New Mexico Boy? When you sing that 3 times, it makes your long song even LONGER. Terri drew some lines through the "saint/ain't" lines and said that's what needed to go. She was right. But I still LOVED that line. I went over that with Dan and he suggested those lines could be moved to the bridge, which at the time was kind of taking up redundant space: Airport's running out of planes Scared you won't wake up the same Airport's running out of planes So not only do I have this really long song but I'm REPEATING myself. Right. A little cut and paste and we ended up with what you hear now: Airport's running out of planes Scared you son't wake up the same You wonder who's your saint Cuz sure as hell you ain't And it worked, and it was all there, and the choruses were shorter, and the heavens parted and birds sang. Well, in my mind, anyway. This songwriting stuff is hard work. New Mexico Boy Lyrics superheroes, superstars live so far from where you are where crazy things fall from the sky but nothing's shown you how to fly cruise all night and sleep 'til noon tortillas, juice, and old man gloom spread butter on your daddy's bread turn off the news, go back to bed drunk on friday, home by 2 am mass on sunday, bread and wine again does confession to the mother bring you joy? new mexico boy no history you care to claim no county kickbacks in your name just a pack of dreams rolled up your sleeve to make it big you'll have to leave drunk on friday, home by 2 am mass on sunday, bread and wine again does confession to the mother bring you joy? new mexico boy airport's running out of planes you're scared you won't wake up the same you wonder who's your saint 'cause sure as hell you ain't cinderblocks like hollow hearts stacked up in piles along boulevards a fortress in your own hometown but this ain't china, walk around no this ain't china, walk around drunk on friday, home by 2 am mass on sunday, bread and wine again does confession to the mother bring you joy? new mexico boy Words and Music by Jana Pochop © 2008 Patient Grasshopper Music (ASCAP)