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In Memory of Elora Petrasek;void(0)) Chilhowee In the mountains of Chilhowee there was a little girl, Six years old; dying to be young I saw her face, her dirty feet; Dancing in the weeds I couldn’t help but smile On that peaceful April morning in Chilhowee Her name was Leah, her eyes were green Her hair was full of curls She was loving life and living in her world It was just another day to you and me But never to Leah She believed in things she counldn’t see Take a ride to Chilhowee Go and smell the flowers Take a ride to Chilhowee You can get there from anywhere … Within an hour I’ll never know what made her dance Or want to smell the flowers I’ll never understand how a second chance Can pick and choose the hour When life begins for some And ends for another In the misty mountain air of the Chilhowee A pool of water then a pool of blood Sticks and stones couldn’t save her The birds all cried like mourning doves Innocent and pure Just like the dance of Leah God, I wish that I could see her Take a ride to Chilhowee Go and smell the flowers Take a ride to Chilhowee You can get there from anywhere… Within an hour In an April cloud she dances now Above the Chilhowee Her face, her hair, her dirty feet Six years old she’ll always be Dying to live; you’ve got to live to die Just like the Wild that live in Chilhowee Take a ride to Chilhowee But don’t say a prayer for Leah She danced her way home; she is free Take a ride to Chilhowee There’s something to believe in In the leaves and trees and memories Of Chilhowee Written by theresa smith halfacre  North to the Orient ...  Can You Hear Your Mother? Flying out over ocean Windswept in your dreams Followed by a nation’s devotion And the subject of their greed A pale ride to existence You never let them down Relentless with persistence A storm dance in a cloud Charles, can you hear your mother? Praying in the shell of the sea Was the tale already woven By a force greater than three? Everything she did to survive; History gave her the right. Turning inward in order to love It was the best way she could die Devil stands in the doorway A weary woman’s delight Pilot your way to the morrow He was a Christian man all right Abandon the damned, you damn right Domesticate the violence of crime A compass is there to the right of you Who plots his course for him tonight? Charles, can you hear your mother A victim of her rights Death was life in one good-night Saints were rare, but she stood there A face left bare to the public glare And escape given to three A higher price of society Was the cost worth your freedom? Of one more casualty? Charles can you hear your mother Standing in the shell of the sea A tale already woven By a force greater than three Everything she did to survive History gave her the right Turning inward in order to love It was the best way she could die. Written by theresa smith halfacre july 06  I’m tired and I’m restless And I’m of sick being here I’m tired of these August nights And tired of drinking hot beer You say you want a little respect Well, you get what you give Feeling like I’ve committed a crime Is a hell of way to live There’s nothing like nothing When there’s nothing going on There’s nothing like chasing dreams When the dreams are all but gone I thought I had another chance Third time proved me wrong I’ll just sit and snap my fingers To the beat of the song…and then move along I have everything but love I have everything but love I have everything but love But I know how to get some Your tired and your restless And your sick of me being here You’re tired of these August nights And tired of my good cheer I hoped I'd get a little respect Well, I got what I deserved I’m always the one apologizing And I haven't even said a word There’s nothing like nothing When there’s nothing going on There’s nothing like chasing dreams When the dreams are all but gone I thought I had another chance Third time proved me wrong I’ll just sit and snap my fingers To the beat of the song…and then move along You have everything but love You have everything but love You have everything but love But you know how to get some Tried keepin' things in perspective I’ve tried all along When there’s only one perspective Then only one of us is wrong I’ll take the blame, I’ll take the fall I’m almost used to this by now There’s one way and it's your way And your laughing right out loud Next time, I’ll have it all Next time, I’ll have it all Next time, I’ll have it all It will take one final fall Sooner than later, I'll be gone And I'll almost have it all Sooner than later, you'll be gone And you'll almost have it all Isn't it easy to believe How very stupid two people can be They fight for peace, they fight for freedom, I guess it's nothin' either one believes in Cause they let go of it all They let go of it all They let go of it all It's pretty damn easy When you take a fall written by theresa smith halfacre, august 2007 Where Went The Time? Two years older was my sister than I When we danced in Grand Haven Had one hell of time She’d say, “Make a reservation, We need a vacation Sandy beaches and a sweetheart’s delight,” 20 years later; I wonder tonight “Where went the time?” She moved up and I moved out I wore peach; she wore delicate white Had one hell of a time Heirloom laces, forgotten faces Sandy beaches left no innocent traces In a Michigan night 30 years later and I wonder tonight Where went the time? Two boys and one baby girl They were God’s gift to me In one hell of a world I cooked and cleaned; starched his shirts It could’ve been better but it could’ve been worse Moved around from town to town 40 years later you’re forgotten about Where went the time? The kids are grown, they’ve all moved out Their father died; I'm alone with my dog In one hell of world Empty dance halls; don’t need a reservation Grand Haven was my last vacation Sandy beaches and a sweetheart’s delight 50 years later I wonder tonight Where went the time? Two years older was my sister than I When we danced at Grand Haven Had one hell of a time She called me up, said "Make a reservation, "60 years later I need a vacation And I want to see your face I’ve never forgotten your face Where went the time?" theresa smith halfacre  Last Ten Miles The clouds rush by, the wind is free Just like the love you gave to me A thousand times, a thousand smiles Will help me drive these last ten miles The leaves fall down, the tree is bare I watched you play under it without a care A thousand times, a thousand tears Will help me take you home from here You’ll never be a memory Never be too far from me Nails scratch me in the dark A lonely sound; a lonely bark But you’ll never be a memory Never be too far from me The land is dry, the earth is warm My heart beats like a thunderstorm A thousand times, a thousand years Will help me take away your fear The sun is distant with the sea It’s setting like you sat for me A thousand times, a thousand dreams Will help me lay you down to sleep You’ll never be a memory Never be too far from me You’ll kiss my hand from far away In the garden we shall play ‘Cause you’ll never be a memory Never be too far from me A thousand times I’d live again To smell your scent; call you friend The clouds rush by, the wind is free I’m giving back to God what he gave to me A thousand times, a thousand smiles Will help me drive these last ten miles with love for Katie ... theresa smith halfacre, October 6, 2006 It could have been some kind of love I wasn’t old but I wasn’t young I was rapture, I was rage My mind was coming of age It could have been some kind of love You might say I was little rundown A wrong impression of myself I was strong, I was weak My dreams weren’t all that sweet You might say I was a little rundown chorus I couldn’t love you any more I didn’t even need to try I only tried to understand A man who doesn’t give a damn About much in his life I thought if I could give you my love It would somehow be enough But when I finally gave in And when I finally felt at home I couldn’t love you anymore It could have been some kind of life It wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t right We were honest, we were lies With a lot of love inside It could have been some kind of life You might say we wasted our days Trying to make sense of war and hatred We were bold, we were brave A little scared and a little insane You might say we wasted our days bridge It could have been some kind of world For a boy and his girl “He comes from the wrong side of the tracks, You better watch your back.” I never believed in any of that It could have been some kind of world It could have been some kind of love You weren’t old, but you weren’t young You were rapture, you were rage Your body grew older than your age It could have been some kind of love You might say you were little rundown A wrong impression of yourself You were strong, you were weak Your dreams weren’t all that sweet You might say you were a little rundown chorus You were making yourself a home Telling me I stole your joy I kept quiet, I kept alone I didn’t know where else to go You were making yourself a home There could have been a little respect I opened the door and out it went I worked hard, I was hell bent I never thought I was caving in There could have been a little respect It could have been some kind of love If we extended it enough But I guess a life of greed Is the only life you'll need It could have been some kind of love I'm happy you have our home May you never be without or alone The way you left me. written by theresa smith halfacre, december 2007  He bought a ticket at the station I can read between the lines I skinned my knees and broke my dreams I lost track of the time I woke up in the morning He left his sweat beneath the sheets He escaped from our dark doorway Another Great Train Robbery I drank three cups of coffee I let my face soak in the dreams Of an old torn blouse in a prairie house Where Laura died in her sleep Chorus one I’ve made so many changes With the world I made my own I’ve danced that dance and lost that chance On the inside of a storm Sometimes I felt alone Sometimes I felt at home I’m standing in that doorway I want to leave this world behind My dignity and a horse runs free Two steps from my side I’m watching getting older And getting older is watching me I grab its hand and then I stand In everything it gives to me ‘Cause I’m not riding with the devil And he’s not talking in my sleep I'm not killing time before time kills me I'm not living like an old antique Chorus two I’ve made so many changes With the world I made my own I crashed, I burned and then I learned It’s better to let go Sometimes I feel alone Sometimes I feel at home I’m walking through the doorway I’m gonna leave the dark behind Find my dignity as horse runs free Somewhere from inside I've got a ticket at the station You can read between the lines I skinned my knees and broke my dreams I lost track of the time But not this time This time at the station This time at the station This time is my time Written by theresa smith halfacre, November 11, 2006 2:04 a.m. For David ... Wherever You Are  For my friend … There’s never a day, I don’t say your name There’s never a morning I forget your pain There’s never a dream That stays away from the night We’re falling like stars now In showers of rain… You’re walking through ashes But you’re still on your feet Your children are hungry For his love, so are we He was your husband And a brother to me Oh, but he’s gone now To the rush of the breeze Some say this war has to be We’re saving a country We’re setting them free Tell this to his mother His children, his wife Then try and convince me Who’s wrong and who’s right Try to convince me Who’ll rest in peace tonight CHORUS Remember his laughter Before he said good-bye It was the last time he looked at you And you knew it inside Remember each moment Remember each day Remember the places Along the way The blood on their shoulders The blood on our hands The world that we live in I don’t understand He walked through the mines And they blew him away All that’s left some ashes Bearing his name Walk through the oil fields It’s the same old drill Year after year we fight To be the king of the hill Have we forgotten? Are you reminding us again? War is good for the economy And priceless in the end. You didn’t know his laughter You didn’t know his name You never stood with him Now you send us your thanks Have you forgotten the comrades? Their names carved in stone God forgive the man Perched on his throne. Inside I’m a peacemaker Inside I’m a child But all of this fighting Is killing my mind … Tmsh July 6, 2006 3:58 a.m. This Time This time in my life The songs are bittersweet In the marquee lights Your name is littering Oh, falling on the streets Black and out of reach Like earth beneath our feet The sun goes down on me This time in my life Perhaps lies were truth Broken into rules Denying destiny I fought back the world Oh, wintry afternoons Splendid and then cruel Like secrets in our hands We try to understand This time in our life Where are you now? And why does it matter? I still pray somehow You’re loving me after All this time. A lover and a smile A misguided child Rooted in fatherhood I never understood Oh, the infancy of words Breaking then blending Like the wind, never-ending We grow up pretending This time in our lives A guide to my scars I don’t have travel far Stars from heaven fall With a whispering call Oh, what were you teaching? Powerful preaching A trail of love and life You tend to sacrifice This time in my life Where are you now? And why does it matter? I still pray somehow You’re loving me after, All this time. This time in my life My life is circling A wild southern sky My name is glistening Oh, strength in the streets Light within my reach Like earth beneath my feet There's an owl guiding me This time in my life Written by theresa smith halfacre, September 8, 2006 7:46 p.m Trying to Be Open Minded ... ;void(0)) Would You Still Say Hi To Me? I said, “Hello, how are you?” He said, “Ma’m I’ve been better. I’ve got this letter in my hand There’s a job I have to do And, I wonder if you knew what is that I do Would you still say “hi” to me?” I am a husband with a wife Both my boys play church league baseball I made a choice with my life To stand by this here land It’s my job, it’s my pay; it’s the American way So, tomorrow, I’m heading back to Baghdad” It’s just me, I never leave, I have to stay and ask the questions, “Do you agree? Are people free? Are we teaching more than lessons? Why the guns? Why not peace? Why not harmony? Are you protecting something you believe in?” “You aren’t me, you’ll never see, The terrorists and their weapons. We placed an Army in their land; We prayed for His direction I’ve got answers of my own, but for now leave me alone “I’ve made peace with my decisions.” “Please don’t go, I want to know, I want some answers to these questions. I’m not alone, nor are you, We’re just trying to make it through Look in my eyes, you’ll see I’m trying to understand Rifles, rockets, guns and this combat.” There was silence we both understood We had no answers, knew we never would We could stand here all day Both have our say We could have been best of friends But sometimes, this is the way a conversation ends: He said, “Hello, how are you?” I said, “Sir, I’ve been better You’ve got a letter in your hand There’s a job you have to do No need to wonder, I know what it is you have to do And yes, I’d still say ‘Hi’ to you." We have leaders in each land Placing guns in foriegn hands Oh, God, what have we done? Oh, God, what have we done? theresa smith halfacre, july 2006 Deep in my fortress there’s a forest It’s forsaken in the trees I look for pleasures among the treasures For the man who calls to me Strapped in the pain I put you through Drawn in wind; lit by moon Reflections falling; a song is calling Like a maiden whore at noon You’ve got your mantras I know the tune In the wee hours, I wait for you When you come calling Beware of falling In the wee hours I wait for you Where’s your mind when it comes to matters Lost inside a common day Outside the worries we tend to hurry While we push the pain away There is progress, there’s preservation I can not see between the two Just like lightening sometimes it’s frightening I watch my back when I look at you I’ve got my mantras You know the tune In the wee hours, what will you do? When I come calling Beware of falling In the wee hours I wait for you It’s my honor that I will honor I won’t fall two steps behind For my mother, for my father For the safety of my mind There are pleasures, there are treasures I have come to know them well Keep on calling; I wanna keep falling But I won’t go to hell for you. Written by theresa smith halfacre , January 14, 2007 2:45 a.m. A Personal Reminder To Myself ;void(0)) Sacrifice Everywhere the talk is getting louder I look around and I hear them wonder Wonder if I’m ever going to make things right In my life There’s pain when we’re honest to God The smallest prayers often come undone Every right is often more than wrong Just read the news Change is riding in this direction I feel its starkness; it’s a cold reflection “She use to be the sweetest girl, What has she done?" I peeled away 20 years of skin Just to see the child in me again Trying to figure out; trying to understand All this war There’s sacrifice and there’s deception We feel the loss in our best intentions There’s not enough love to change the world Naive little girl Consumed by words and material things We want the best; the best of everything It’s not real; it’s all so pretentious Let it go I only know this day is mine I’ll take the best, I won’t be unkind It’s not worth the bitterness or pain It burns the soul Smell the jasmine, smell the cut grass These are the things that are sure to last Beyond politics and war; religion and the poor Don’t close your eyes … Sacrifice. Written by theresa smith halfacre, May 5, 2006 1:17 p.m. I think I need a vacation I need to get away I need to make a brand new start Close the door on this broken heart Gas is high so I can't go far Better lock my keys inside of my car Hey -- I think I'll take a vacation In my own backyard I’ll put on my moccasin boots Tell all the jerks where they can hike to I don’t need to drive a hundred miles To kick back and relax awhile I can take a toke and get just get high Ride in circles on my mountain bike Yeah, I’m gonna vacation In my own backyard Tune off the telephone and tv Read up on my philosophy There’s a blue ridge and a canopy An empty hammock 40 feet from me I’ve got spiders and tarantulas, too Playing spin the bottle in my shoes Yeah, they’re taking a vacation In my own backyard. I’ve put my time in; I’ve worked hard It’s time to glow like a worm in the dark A six of Bacardi and pack of smokes I can laugh at my own damn jokes I don’t need anyone to tell me now To get my shit together or tell me how I might even learn to tip a cow In my own back yard Good bye papers; good bye remote control It’s about time I take care of my own I’ve got enough wildlife right outta my door Mother Nature is the only thing at war I don’t need the internet or my Dell Modern technology - it can go to hell Right now I need a vacation In my own backyard Turn up Patty Griffin and listen awhile To the music that makes me smile Who needs Toby or the Dixie Chicks? All their bickering makes me sick Todd Snider can blow them all away Playing a Train Song any time, any day Yeah, I think I'll bring him on vacation In my own backyard If you never see me again No need to worry about me, my friend I don’t have money, but I got tons of books Can’t sing a lick but I can damn sure cook Just give me some marshmallows and a stake I’ll burn them black; they’ll taste great Yeah, I’m taking a vacation In my own backyard I’m tired of all the bullshit I’m letting go and forgetting it I need a place where I can burp and fart When I make a wish on a falling star Call me a sorry son-of-a-bitch I’m gonna pick my nose and scratch my itch Yeah, I live for my vacations In my own back yard written by theresa smith halfacre August 2006 Carrying Me Grandma liked her front porch swing Smelling the flowers in a soft southern breeze She'd smile at my grandpa by the corn silo She had a few wrinkles; she never was old Grandpa loved grandma for life She stole his heart one Saturday night Light from the stars; the moon was bright When Grandpa and grandma became man and wife But he died sixteen years ago “Among My Souvenirs” played on the radio A chainsaw slipped through his hands Down he fell with the blade in his chest They told grandma to wear something black Peter is dead and he ‘aint coming back Grandma learned what life was about A life without grandpa is a life without I thought to myself this ‘aint right God gives us love and then takes it back Now grandma relied on daddy and me To help work the farm and tend to the fields But daddy choked on the whiskey he'd drink Finally the bottle put daddy to sleep Daddy'd been dead for ten years or more When me and my grandma opened a store We sold antiques and a hundred chainsaws But there was one chainsaw nobody bought One evening grandma whispered to me “Honey, I love you; you're a grandmoma's dream Live in this home; move on with your life Remember your grandpa some Saturday nights" They told me to wear something black Your grandma is dead, she ‘aint coming back And I learned what life was about A life without grandma is a life without I thought to myself this ‘aint right God gives us love and then takes it back Grandpa and grandma, daddy makes three I’m the only one swinging on the front porch swing I smell the flowers and the garden it brings Memories of grandma and grandpa and me There’s a chainsaw next to grandma’s swing Its teeth are as shiny as the two wedding rings Smelling the flowers in the soft southern breeze There’s a chain full of love that's carrying me. Written by theresa smith halfacre, August 31, 2006 3:09 a.m. Reminicing ...  Four Years Years have passed; I don’t know how They went so fast; they’re memories now Families fade, but wars they grow It makes me miss my high school more And, The Class of 1984. Where were you in ‘81? When Carter lost and Reagan won? Did you listen to the CDC about HIV? Or watch Lady Diana marry royalty? Were you there in ’81? Where were we in ‘81? Our freshman year; a brand new start We use to say, “School’s not for me.” We wrote our worries in a diary That was us in ‘81. Where were you in ‘82? Did ya’ watch Cal Ripkin take a swing or two? Were you listening to Springsteen rally the crowd; As 750,000 thousand gathered ‘round? Were you there in ’82? Where were we in ‘82? Our sophomore year, we drank a few Football games, then Cry Baby Bridge Cheering for Michael when he threw that pitch That was us in ‘82 Where were you in ‘83? Did you watch the end of MASH on TV? Martin Luther King Day became a bill Microsoft Word unleashed a whole new world. Were you there in ’83? Where were we in ‘83? Our junior year, we turned sixteen A little bit of country and little class We thought this year would never pass That was us in ‘83 Where were you in ‘84? Did you watch The Games in Sarajevo? Did you sing “From dawn to setting sun …”? When the Marines pulled out of Lebanon, Were you there in ’84? Where were we in ‘84? Our senior year, we felt assured Driving to school and then to work Some in letter jackets; some in t-shirts That was us in ’84. That was me in ‘84 I only thought I wanted more I’d get married; build a life Make someone a perfect wife It used to come so easily The foolish side of me And ‘84 Written by theresa smith halfacre August 21, 2006 12:49 a.m. Photo to right taken August 26, 2006 Last day of Lucy and Earls as we knew it ... :( Sacred Threads, Secret Flaws I went to see Ashley I heard she was afraid I knew what was wrong with her I hadn’t seen her for days There in the corner of her room Cradling her stuffed bear There was little Ashley hiding there She looked like a woman Not sweet thirteen The dozen times she’d ran away Cops busted her dreams Of never coming home again To hear Johnny whisper, “I’ll see you at ten” There was little Ashley, lying under him Sacred threads, secret flaws Fabric weaves in thoughts Of a girl who believes Abuse is her fault Momma’s dead; daddy works And I know you hurt Little Ashley, little girl You’re living in a world Where rules are broken And lives are torn apart I went to see Ashley She just turned sixteen Confused by the battle She remained just as sweet She had turned to a lover A friend she could trust There’s nothin’ like the love of a woman’s touch She looked like a woman About the age of me The years had finally worn her down She was never free They called her names ‘cause she was gay They didn’t know her pain She let go of their hatred And all the voices for a grave Cradled in her casket Hid Ashley’s little bear They laughed and cried together For so many years Little Ashley, little girl Did you have to leave? Little Ashley, little bear Watch over the children You left down here Sacred threads, secret flaws We carry them all Little children who believe Abuse is their fault Written by theresa smith halfacre, 2006 ;void(0)) Layers of Life Layers of life fall to the floor Swept under carpets and broken screen doors Like dust in the desert and dreams of desire Layers upon layers surround me like fire Memories resurface, piece by piece Mostly in quiet refuge, I process my grief The mind will protect every dream ever lost Frightened and alienated, we suffer the cost Never in my life would I believe I would break my vow to God. I have searched for you in my sins and creations I have struggled through every lawful temptation Ouestioning every damaging thought Sickness and contemplation were the answers I got. One more layer dresses the floor It weaves my mistakes into one hundred more Confused and bewildered I stay in my shell Looking like heaven, but dreaming of hell. You never broke your vow to God or silence. For a lifetime I accepted rejection with a smile Understanding complacent lives firsthand in denial Standing seconds away from one who protects Others will benefit from my loss and neglect I’ll never again believe in fairytales Like layers of life, they slip into failures Remind me again sometime why I’m foolish And I’ll remind you again that I’m not what I wished … Or hoped I could be in your heart. This grief is ours to share equally. Finally, we are united forever in what we have broken. Written by theresa smith halfacre, april 29th, 2005 6:17 p.m. ;void(0)) One Day One day one prayer will touch the world God will listen and not wonder what he heard Fallen heroes everywhere, severed in the ground No one ever notices, they’re faceless in a crowd Disposable and dying in the lost and found. One day one prayer will touch one little girl Standing in the prowl of her sacred little world Bruises blacken up her back, following the attack No one ever notices because she’s black Close your eyes and just forget, just forget One day one prayer will touch the enemy And those we think we care about the least Their face is different but their eyes still shine No one notices it is we who divide The history that ultimately unites us in one vine One day one prayer will touch every ailing man Who seeks shelter for his family and food for friends He is weak physically, but I promise you he believes No one notices while he’s praying on his knees “Dear God, please protect us with your mercy.” One day one prayer will touch Mother Earth And restore what we destroy, it has no worth The animals are weak, we made them so We lock them up we take their home In the name of economical growth One day one prayer will touch this heart Healing fears that keep my eyes apart Playing in the playground, dancing as I please One day no one will notice me One day isn’t soon enough for me. Written by theresa smith halfacre, May 1, 2005, 10:02 p.m. ;void(0)) The Harder I Fall The further we go the harder I fall It takes one mistake, just one mistake and that’s all What do we lose? What do we win? Is love worth the pain to see you again? I’ll never know. Dreams are waiting to help cushion the fall They wrestle with nightmares until Angels call Calling me back, calling me home Calling me something then nothing at all Wish they’d leave me alone I walk to the porch, I feed the birds I read words I never heard Never heard them before ‘Til I walked through your door Harmful and hurtful just like before It takes one mistake, just one mistake and that’s all Sometimes regrets, sometime the best gets to us all Still I walk through your door and come back for more. And the harder I fall. Written by theresa smith halfacre 
Two Lines I thought the wind blew as cold as it could Then you blew through me like the fire in the woods Lost in the days and lost to our minds I long to find you but know there’s no time The red in the mountains the chill in the air It rustled the winter more than we cared Time spent alone it’s never as good As loving someone when you know you shouldn’t West Virginia you blew two lines in my face Out on the road in this dark winter place Wrestling words spoke through my lips Letting a dream slip through our fingertips Call to the wind and call to the wild Call the to the challenge Its whispering child Dreaming of songs lost in two lines Have they been forgotten or just left behind? I thought the wind blew as cold as it could Then you blew through me like the fire in the woods Lost in a dream that got lost on the way I long to find you and pray I long to find you and pray theresa smith halfacre, 12:39 a.m. | Stuff | More Stuff | Thread Songs | The Most Recent Stuff | | Artists and Their Music | Erika Luckett | Peter Cooper and Fayssoux McLean | Storyhill with Ellis | David Childers | Todd Snider | The Unnofficial Half | Pictures | In Memory of David Stewart | Theresa | Return Home | |
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