"Grown Men Cry"

Finalist - JCMA, for songs written about South Australia 

This song was another written whilst I was participating in a song writing group that the wonderful Keppie Coutts hosts, (if you would like to find out more, please check out 'How to write songs'). A bit about the group = each fortnight the group is given a prompt to write to, its often a little random and can be tricky. The prompt for this song was "Last resort" a lot of people in the group wrote about holidays, for me the words “Last resort” takes me to a different place, a refuge of last resort sought in a bushfire.

I'd wanted to write about the (Cudlee Creek) fire for a while, but wasn’t sure of the angle, it had a big impact on my life  (I was involved both on a personal and professional level on that hot December Friday in 2019 and the many months after) I knew that the trauma was still raw and unhealed in my rural community in which I life and work and I wanted to honour it.

So I chose to write the story of a song through they eyes of a man who stayed and defended his farm.    

 

Grown Men Cry 

(Writer: Jessie Che - Lyrics & Music) 

 

Verse 

December Friday's should be fine, with morning sun

This ain't how its begun

The wind n worry turn things dry 

Its days like these, make grown men cry

 

Verse 

Sirens echo up from town, where smoke stings

The lost chase begins… 

Planes 'r swallows in the sky

Its days like these, make grown men cry

 

Chorus 

Things he loves, are razed 

'n charred leaves, fall like rain

Will life…be the same? 

After the hills are forged in

Flames….. hmmmm…….hmm

 

Verse

His horses have numbers on their sides, n plaited manes

To cheat the fire…

Let ‘em run, let ’em try

Its nights like these, make grown men cry

 

Chorus 

Things he loves, are razed 

'n charred leaves, fall like rain

Will life…be the same? 

After the hills are forged in

Flames….. hmmmm…….hmm

 

Verse

Everyone remembers that day, but those with scars

That wont wash away

Shadows of all that's broke inside

Still days like these, make grown men cry 

 

Planes like swallows in the sky…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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