Junior by Spectator Bird

Just a kid, eight years old
Stood on the stage like you were told
All you've ever known is fame
And all you've ever felt is spite
A no man's land of wrong and right
Growing up with your old daddy's name

He called you bluebird

Your little voice, your father's songs
Grand ole opry, 1960, mid-July
And the crowd mouthed along
To every word you didn't write

They cried, "Sing, bluebird.
Let's hear ya, junior!"

You started wearing a hat and shades
Like you had planned it that way
Like they were all a part of your campaign
But is that a tear in your beer
From the duet that you don't hear
But you find yourself singing all the same

Sing, bluebird!
Let's hear ya, junior

There's no romance in the highway
Bruised and broken down
Never sure what's gonna happen
If the good times should run out
So you flirt with early exits
You're tired, you're alone
But you're the one that gets to drive
The one that gets to keep on going

With all your fire and thunder
All your tires spun in ruts
Now a little bundle slumbers
Between your guitar and your gut
And you hold him like a melon
Like he's holding something dear
And you've got the chance to tell him
What you never got to hear

Sing, bluebird!
I'm listening, junior
If your tune loses its words
I'll still listen, junior

• Folk
• shenandoah-valley
• singer-songwriter
• sister-duo
• Virginia