Walking in the Dark
I am a singer/songwriter type of guy who for now lives and works in Lakeland, Florida. Unsigned and unencumbered, I feel free to pretty much shun fashion and write and sing about whatever I want, though that usually means not getting paid. But despite the lack of market constraints, I never really venture too far from thoughtful pop, rock, or folk songs with a little edge, driven by acoustic rhythms, and embellished with simple melodic hooks. The landscape of the adult heart and it's struggles with love and loss are recurring themes. As songwriters we're taught to write what we know. Well, I've tried to do that with this record-weave impressions of my trip down this particular stretch of road in my journey into a collection of songs that feels like a story being told. The story opens and closes with a road, a lonely road winding away from what was lost and left behind-perhaps childish notions of love and security, maybe someone we were or tried to be-and twisting toward what is uncertain, yet perhaps more true to who we are or who we want to be. But it's getting dark now, and it's cold, and the silhouette of barren trees can be seen against the gray and pink sky. George Jones' voice crackles over the car's AM radio. You pass a little house with warm amber light in the windows and feel a hope rise up that maybe somewhere just up ahead you'll round a bend and finally come to a place you can stop and rest-a place that feels like your home.
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