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Undeniable sadness of a small town America homecoming, beautifully captured by plaintive vocals and heartfelt lyrics; almost like stepping into a Andrew Wyeth painting.


"Monroe County"

The old Canal slips lazily beneath the willow trees
Where the fields are green all summer and the corn grows oh-so-sweet
Now I am returning to the house my Grandpa built
Why was I so far away the summer he fell ill?

Some other life, some other time across the Monroe County Line.

It’s often said if walls could talk, what stories they could tell
Standing in his kitchen, I recall them all so well
The two of us enjoying lunch with the lilacs all in bloom
I'd share with him my hopes and dreams, he'd say, "Don't grow up too soon."

But I was born with wanderlust, I had to go out in the world
He said, "wherever this life takes you, you’ll always be my little girl.
"May these cornfields always whisper, 'welcome home, welcome home...'"

Kneeling by his graveside, I weep for that dear man
For buried here beneath me now, my roots are in this land.

Some other life, some other time, beyond the Monroe County Line
(Hold me, Monroe County, just once more before I go.
The only one who knows me doesn't live here anymore.)
Some other life, some other time...


from Ghosts of the American Road, released February 10, 2015



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Ghosts of the American Road San Antonio, Texas

"You two are like the coolest '70's band we never heard of!" gushed a fan after one of Ghosts of the American Road's many performances. "And, your CD is like a 'concept album.' “

"It's actually the people of America who wrote these songs," said Kevin Higgins, the duo's main songwriter. "They told us their stories and we listened."
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