Bravo Foxtrot Echo

For once, a positive piece inspired by my region of residence.

The band arrives on the ridge to jam
As the worldly worries go on the lam

White lightning, the big thrill out this way
In hickdom we trust, it’s all here to stay

The city cousin transplanted by the recession
And the country cousin eggs on the depression

Moping around, feeling lost in the wilderness
The fish out of water scenario is not the best

But humans adapt, adjust to the pressure
No matter the events, no matter the weather

The young filly across the way has these eyes
That sparkle in the moonlight under dark skies

One solitary gaze cracked the hardened shell
No longer was this rural place a crazy hell

Beneath the wind-driven giants, a bonfire glows
His appreciation for the rural life only grows

Dancing around like their pagan ancestors of old
Like the soapmakers stirring, earning their gold

Their eyes meet in the firelight, bluegrass playing
They kiss a little bit, the answer to the praying

And the bottle is passed, he takes a swig
Pulled to his feet, his body embraces the jig

Misinformed, this place is not Bravo Foxtrot Echo
This place can’t be compared to a slum or a ghetto

It’s a place of beauty in the beholder’s eye
This is a place where people live, where they die

And it came to mind as he stared in her eyes
I’ll stay here forever, under these starry skies

Welcome to the hinterland, the place of peace
And for the first time, he felt whole and pleased

The rat race gone, the building sparse
The traffic jams here aren’t led by cars

No post office, a single church, a single bar
The giant towns are ways away, very far

Cooking meth all the while thriving off the grid
An illicit income, boatloads of immoral quid

But the folks call themselves salt of the earth
Outnumber the freaks, knowing what life is worth

That gives the shattered soul a bit of rest
As he repairs the fractured heart in his chest

There is hope out there, and even a plan
For this child born of a fractured man

Negativity is the seed for Bravo Foxtrot Echo
An open space beneath the blades is the true hollow

In the hollow, they strum, dance, jump and sing
Passing the shine around the fire, mellow is king

And the city cousin is not adrift in the grassy sea
Anchored down by exuberance for an eternity

Come along, the bluegrass siren is calling you
The soul warms, the color yellow outshining blue

Author's Note

Dig up the song "Up on the Ridge" by Dierks Bentley. It was another inspiration for this song. There are some other musical references in here if you can find them and figure them out.