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about
There was an early version of this song that had the “heavy metal” bit in the middle with me singing the bridge in my best “real men of genius” voice. I’m embarrassed to admit how much fun that was to do. This song is a true story, although none of the events described actually took place.
lyrics
Steve flashed me the devil horns,
it was something I'd not seen before.
This was 1984 in the Holly High school hall.
We had been the kings of cool
at Juniata middle school,
but we were with the big kids who had had us feeling small.
Steve played me a new cassette
you couldn't get in town just yet,
it blew our minds and rocked our world
(although they kinda looked like girls).
//Heavy metal. Farmer's sons.
Blown away by everyone,
when LA seemed like half the world away.
Cut our jeans up, headbands on.
Things our parents frowned upon
and on and on and on the music played
So the next day we show up to class
in our fully decked out metal asses.
Oh man, you should've heard them laugh
it's was funny, sad and true.
Gym that day was really tough.
It was a long ride on the evening bus,
but the girls(!) had finally noticed us
and this was something new.
Situations such as these
could bring a young buck to his knees,
but our metal gods had told us take a stand.
So we started a band. \m/
//Heavy metal. Farmer's sons.
Nothing makes a rock band run
like three guys who think that they might get laid.
With our cut up jeans and red bandanas,
meet the world's worst metal band.
And on and on and on the music played.
Tho’ none of us could sing or play,
still we practiced everyday.
Steve played lead and I played bass
(and the drummer's name a can't quite place).
But we shared the shed where we learned to rock
was poison, anthrax, rats and wasps.
With our 10 watt amps on and old plank floor,
it was a Quiet Riot to be sure.
We got tapped to play the dance,
this was our big metal chance.
Yes, they'd crown us kings of rock romance.
yeah, this was gonna rule…
I felt like I was all grown up,
but Steve could not stop throwing up.
And the drummer never did show up,
instead he sent his mom.
//Heavy metal. Farmer's sons.
In the school gymnasium,
an acoustic set was all we got to play.
In our cut up jeans and spiked out hair,
everyone just stood and stared.
and eventually, they all just walked away.
And in the end you know we couldn't win
over Indiana's awful din,
and the real world would that sucks you in
and gets harder everyday.
But sometimes, when the moon is right,
on an Indiana summer night,
I swear to God that I am right
back there inside that shed.
When those heavy metal, farmer's sons
brought the rock to everyone,
and LA seemed like half the world away.
In our cut up jeans that smelled like hay,
the thought grows sweeter everyday,
and on and on and on the music.
On and on and on the music.
On and on and on the music played.
Chattanooga multi-instrumentalist and mountain dulcimer maestro Butch Ross has tackled everything from Radiohead to Bach and
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