Come on now...sing with me!

I always imagined that I would be a great songwriter someday - for two reasons: 1) I have a lot of life experiences that would rival any country-western sad tale of woe and 2) I can't sing. You know what they say - People who can't sing, write.  Just look at Kris...brilliant songwriter, but...am I right?

A couple of years ago, I was addicted to an internet game on FB called Farm Town.  When I say addicted, I mean that I spent several hours on it everyday...harvesting crops, buying outbuildings, hiring myself out to other "farmers" who were also addicted, acquiring more farmland and so on. It got so bad that I would have to leave a party to get home to harvest my crops before they died.  You farmers and internet junkies know what I'm talking about, don't ya...

I finally gave it up as I realized it was consuming me. (Yikes...is this sounding vaguely familiar to my blogger friends...) I let the pineapple crop go to waste and the cows starve. Bad Farmer. But I thought I'd write a song about it, which seemed so much more productive.  Of course I tried to get a local rocker and musician to put some music to it, and for some reason, he hasn't called back. Hmmmm. Doesn't he know this could be his next great hit?

Go ahead...sing along...

This Aint FarmTown

Lyrics by Laurel Dismukes

Wasting time on the Internet
Friending people that I’ve never met
Looking for escape when life has me down;
I jump into cyberspace
It takes me to a place
Where life is simple and sweet called FarmTown

With the click of a mouse
You can buy a house
And plow and plant your seed;
You can get a job
Hire Billy-Bob
And buy lots of thing you don’t need

So to get away
From all the fray
I can jump onto my farm;
My coins mount up
Don’t need a truck
I don’t see what’s the harm

Chorus

But this aint FarmTown

There are mouths to feed, men in need
And kids get sent to war;
Got a job I hate and bills won’t wait
And wives walk out the door

This economy is killing me

And I’m tired of being poor  
So I’ll take my licks
And do some clicks
In a little place called FarmTown

No, this aint FarmTown

There are mouths to feed, men in need
And kids get sent to war;
Got a job I hate and bills won’t wait
And wives walk out the door

You ask....is this copywrite protected? Nope...so go ahead and try to steal it... You and I will know where it came from...just give me the credit, okay?

Laurel. Happy Song Writing!!!

           

This blog post and it's content is the sole property of Laurel Dismukes, created on March 1, 2012 in the presence of 3 witnesses, (one with a double-barrel shotgun) and an ankle-biting cat....just in case you try.