Name: No More
Duration: 3 min 29 s
Channel: David Alan Trabue
Description: Bluegrass number about bluegrass pickers and their foibles...

No More

David Trabue

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Bluegrass number about bluegrass pickers and their foibles...

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David Trabue

An interesting trio (me, myself & I) collaborated one night after tiring of previous attempts to find backing harmonists.

"I am Everyman, and the things inside of me are in everyman. They just vary in degree. I'm a poet, I'm a pauper, I'm a preacher, I'm a king. I am Everyman and a part of everything." Kentucky Dave '93

Song Info

Genre

Country • Alternative Country

Charts

Peak #154

Peak in subgenre #25

Author

David Alan Trabue

Rights

David Alan Trabue

Uploaded

January 27, 2007

Track Files

MP3

MP3 3.2 MB • 128 kbps • 3:29

Story behind the song

Two of us used to play & drink together... neither of us drink any more, but for different reasons.

Lyrics

In the hills of old Kentucky
we rode and shot our guns.
And we drank up all the whisky
like tomorrow’d never come.
Now I’m out in California
and I ride and shoot alone,
Cause the whisky took my buddy
to his bluegrass Heav’nly home.
Now he’s slidin’ into Heaven
with a beat-up Steven’s bar.
And the harp he’ll bring there with him
is a diff’rent one by far.
He’ll bring a smile and joke to all
the folks gone on before,
But he won’t bring any whisky
cause he don’t need that no more.


In the hills of old Kentucky
we were younger then by far.
He’d grab his beat-up Dobro
and I’d grab my old guitar.
Then we’d head up north to China,	
Indiana, USA,
In a beat-up BMW
shootin’ signs along the way.
Now he’s slidin’ into Heaven
with a beat-up Steven’s bar.
And he’ll do his target shootin’
throwin’ lightning bolts at stars.
Maybe then he’ll hit the answer 
to what troubled him below,
But the answer won’t be whisky
cause he don’t need that no more.
In the hills of old Kentucky
there’s a southern boy that’s gone
To the other side of Jordan
in a place so far from home,
Where the dark side took him over
from a troubled soul within,
Leaving tears and cheers and mem’ries
with his family, fans and friends.
 Now he’s slidin’ into Heaven
with a beat-up Steven’s bar,
And I’m sittin’ here and writin’
and strumming my guitar.
I’m rememb’ring all the good times,
throw the bad times out the door.
And I’ll toast him without whisky,
cause I don’t need that no more.
Me and my buddy don’t drink whisky,
cause we don’t need that no more.

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