Inspirations, Lyrics, comments and feedback concerning Scott's songs. Updated regularly

The Watcher (words and music by Scott Gibson copyright 2009)

 notes:  Everybody loves a riddle...right! 
   It is the task of every generation to judge the actions of the generations who came before them. The only constant that must remain intact throughout the years...is truth. Anyone or any force that "tweaks" history for their own use or to benefit their own agenda, is the worst kind of thief and liar. Strong words I know, but our past, the good, the bad, the right and wrong, is the tie that binds us together as a people and should be kept pure and true...added to with our own bit...and then passed on to the next group of Americans who will in turn...judge us.


Well he stands straight and tall on the platform,
He stands there in sun & wind & rain.
And he keeps a watcher's eye
from his post up in the sky,
And never does he sigh or complain.

Some say that he come from Carolina,
Others say he come from Tennessee,
from Georgie', Alabam', Savanie', Birmingham,
The truth is he comes from you and me.

He's a military man without question,
His musket rifle firm in his hand.
And he never questioned why
when they sent him out to die,
in defense of his family and his land.

He fought for a cause as he knew it,
And he fought for his children and his wife,
Neither curse nor condone,
what is right, what is wrong,
but only to preserve his way of life.

He was silent as the years roll slowly by him,
He sees the generations come and go,
And he's waiting for the day
when all hate will fade away
from the people who pass him from below.

So he stands as a symbol to all people,
A tribute to those who fought and died,
Will you honor him today,
or just turn your head away
He leaves it up to you to decide.




Lexi-town (words and music by Scott Gibson copyright 2009)

Notes: A fella once told me..."that's a catchy tune, I like it, but you ought to change the words some...they're kinda depressing". To which I replied "the words are true and need to be told". "What's depressing is over 5,000 people loosing their jobs because the factories shut down or moved overseas". He agreed...


Lexi-town, Lexi-town,
Little bit of Heaven is Lexi-town.
Prettiest place you ever found,
I love Lexi-town.

Lexi-town, Lexi-town,
Born and raised in Lexi-town.
Golden rule won't let you down
God bless Lexi-town.

Lexi-town, Lexi-town,
Met a little gal in Lexi-town.
Gonna git married n settle down
Down in Lexi-town.

Lexi-town, Lexi-town,
Got it made in Lexi-town.
Plenty of jobs all around,
Good luck Lexi-town.

Lexi-town, Lexi-town,
Somethin' goin' on in Lexi-town.
Nose in the air, ear to the ground,

What's up Lexi-town.

Lexi-town, Lexi-town,
Jobs all gone from Lexi-town.
Boss says son gotta shut em down,
Too bad Lexi-town.

Lexi-town, Lexi-town,
Busted flat in Lexi-town.
Gimmie 5 dollars I'm Heaven bound
So-long Lexi-town.




Breakin' my mind all the time (words and music by Scott Gibson copyright 2009)

I used to be the one you came to hear.
And eventhough the point was dull,
I'd stick it in your ear.
Went away to Neverland, never to grow old.
I just came back to tell you, this hands about to fold.

Breakin' my mind all the time,
breakin' my mind all the time.
Every time I act like I'm feeling fine you start
breakin' my mind all the time.

You laugh when I ramble on this way.
I ain't got no ticket, so how much do I pay.
The questions still to answer,
the prophesy is cast.
Whatever you plan to do to me
you better do it fast.

Breakin' my mind all the time,
breakin' my mind all the time.
Every time I act like I'm feeling fine you start
breakin' my mind all the time.

So I'll leave you with this wish and a prayer.
One day you'll look for me, but I won't be there.
The shadows on the window,
the writings on the wall,
the things you hold so precious,
don't matter much at all.

Breakin' my mind all the time,
breakin' my mind all the time.
Every time I act like I'm feeling fine you start
breakin' my mind all the time.

Go Tell Mama  (words and music by Scott Gibson copyright 2009)

The reason's for war are political in nature and open for debate on the particulars. The results, at least on a human level, are not.

Go tell Mama her blue-eyed son
is coming home from the war,
Please don't tell her that I don't look
the way I did before.

Tell her I was brave and strong
on the battlefield that day,
when a white-hot piece of a cannon ball
took my blue eyes away.

Go tell Mama her red-haired son
is coming home from the war,
Please don't tell her that I don't look
the way I did before.

Tell her that my heart was pure
in the jungle on that day,
When the orange dust from a chemical cloud
took my red hair away.

Go tell Mama her ramblin' boy
is coming home from the war,
Please don't tell her that I don't ramble
the way I did before.

Tell her that my path was true
in the desert on that day,
and I was first in line when they tripped the mine
that took my two legs away.

Go tell Mama her only son
is coming home from the war,
Please don't tell her I won't be back
the way I was before.

Just tell her that I love her
and I'll see her bye n bye,
and for some to live in freedom,
others have to die.