FanStory.com - Black Sky, Red Sunby michaelcahill

"Black sky, red sun. You were the only one."

I sang that lyric over and over to myself. It haunted me. It came from me. It was original. Yet, I didn't claim it for myself, at least in my heart. If some record company were to ask, I couldn't rightly say that me and some other fella wrote it together.

I knew that it came from outside of me somewhere and entered into me. A lot of the music and lyrics came to me that way. I'd like to sound all sophisticated and say, "my muse and I were in tune on that one", but I don't know what the hell folks are talking about when they talk like that.

I'm a poor boy that grew up on the rails. I had a home for a brief spell. I remember it. Had me a momma and a daddy too. I even had a sister, Beth, and a dog named Stripes. I can't remember any of 'em all that well, except that dog. He stayed with me, loyalty bein' his main claim to fame and all.

Daddy went to fight them Nazis. We won, but daddy, well, he lost. Momma, she lost too. I guess she hung her hat on what daddy provided. She never thought to learn a way for herself. I never knew my sister much, if ya seen a little baby girl, then ya've seen as much of my sister as I ever did. I'd be lyin' if I claimed a hole in my heart for her.

I do miss my momma though. I think I see her all the time. I've little else to do ridin' the rails. Maybe she'll be at the next stop waitin' for me. Sure, I know that's foolish. What's the harm in it though? What's the harm in dreamin' of record companies a clammerin' for me and my tunes?

I buried Stripes in Kellyscreek, Georgia right by the little pond the townsfolk were all so proud of. They called it a creek, as was their right. Who am I to argue such a thing? I waited 'till after midnight when I was sure the populace were all tucked in for the night.

It was just me and Stripes. I said my goodbyes nice and quiet like. It tickles me a little bit knowing Stripes is there, and them not knowin' it. I imagine him raisin' up with a big howl at midnight scarin' them all to the outhouse.

It was a nice quiet town and I almost considered settlin' down there. But, there was that awful business there and it spooked me; I'm not ashamed to admit it. Hell, that sweet old lady Kittle had sliced me a piece of apple pie that very morning. That same evening her and her old man Earl were hacked to bits. I tell ya, I still get chills thinkin' bout it. Even their cat, Roosevelt, burnt to a crisp.

What with Stripes dyin' and all, it was filled with too many sad memories. I felt it wise to move on. I always had it in my mind that somethin' in that pie did my boy Stripes in. Silly, I guess, I had two slices myself. Just one of those things that gets stuck in your head and won't go away.

My sister died when she was about two-years-old and that's why I hardly remember her. I know she was old enough to be a bother, but not old enough to add much to the mix. Momma favored her and went into a kinda swoon when she was killed.

Momma stopped providin' what little she had been providin' when my sister died. That left it all up to me. I was only eleven years old. Wasn't much I could do at that age but skin some small game and catch a fish or two.

It wasn't very long after my sister bein' murdered that my momma was murdered too. That left me an orphan. With them gone, there wasn't much there for me and Stripes to hang around for. We were on the road for ten years.

I've been alone now for six years. I have my songs. Those are given to me for the most part. I've got a few ideas of my own, but I know they're not as good as the ones that jump into my brain.

Maybe I'll get discovered someday.