written sometime in 2003, I was trying to pay tribute to early Rush and early Iron Maiden at different parts in the song. The length of the song was tribute enough. If you can't listen to the whole thing, at least listen to the middle, it rocks!
I'm a former member of several bands across the country, have been writing songs for 30 years and making home-grown productions for about 25 years. I have been dabbling with a more diverse songwriting style and I am always looking to add something interesting to this Soundclick page. I am a lover of music (but not all music) and will not be boxed into one certain style. I hope you like this as much as I do because my soul is bleeding all over this page....rock on......
Story behind the song
a tale of an encounter between a sasquatch and an early native American
Lyrics
Sasquatch
By Kevin S. Dunn
I am moving stealthfully from the dense, lush undergrowth
To a clearing underneath the misty, olive canopy
Following tracks of my prey, an elusive buck mule deer
My heart races as he’s only minutes now in front of me
Hoof prints in the fertile soil right here underneath my feet
Accented by broken twigs and a pungent, musky smell
New footprints appear on the path, so foreign now to me
Larger than a man’s, what made these tracks, I cannot tell
Fifty paces across the forest peering from between the trees
Yellow eyes stare with disdain, half animal-half man I guess
He strides into the open now, tall as a bear can stand upright
Raising one long, hairy arm, and gesturing towards the west
The prey I hunted long gone now, having caught the scent of this beast
A look comes on his face as if he’s trying to tell me something
Wanting me to follow him, westward now, I don’t know why
A piercing cry echoes through the trees and we begin to run….
My legs are weak, my vision blurs, where are we going in such haste?
The beast he trots effortlessly, I wonder, will he ever tire?
Don’t know if I can follow him, keep up the chase at this pace
My chest is pounding violently, I gasp for air, my lungs on fire
Arriving at a shelter built from branches, twigs, leaves and grass
Into his home, he leads me forth, to find a mother and her son
A boy-creature shot through his side, with an arrow from my tribe
If I could find a way to say I am sorry for what has been done
I kneel down by the creature’s child; he’s lying there in agony
Touching him upon his brow to reassure the trembling youth
I seize the arrow by the shaft and wincing turn and pull it through
I turn to face the man-beast, break the arrow and I let it fall
Tearing dressings from my cloth I stuff two pieces in his wounds
Embracing father, mother, son, to convey my sympathy
The father and I, we lock eyes, I see him begin to cry
Now a demon stalks his Paradise, with deadly weapons on the fly.…
