R.I.P. John Prine

I never got to see him in person. But his music is among the greatest. Thanks to a remarkable songwriter. He told us what he would do today in a song. Enjoy. Laugh and cry as you watch.

Be Not Confused

In honor of the Americana Honors and Awards:

Artist of the Year: John Prine
And much more!

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Just a footnote: This is post 6,600 in the still ongoing blog of these wanderings of a post-modern pilgrim. Still moving and wandering, but remembering that:

not all that glitters is gold,

and not all who wander are lost.

Just a Fountain

Only John Prine can sing this the way it's meant to sound....

Oh, the glory of true love
Is a wild and precious thing
It don't grow on old magnolias
Or only blossom in the spring
No, the glory of true love
Is it will last your whole life through
Never will go out of fashion
Always will look good on you

You can climb the highest mountain
Touch the moon and stars above
But Old Faithful's just a fountain
Compared to the glory of true love

Long before I met you darlin'
Lord, I thought I had it all
I could have my lunch in London
And my dinner in St. Paul
I got some friends in Albuquerque
Where the governor calls me "Gov"
You can give 'em all to Goodwill
For the glory of true love

Glory glory glory glory
You can't never get enough
Time alone will tell the story
Of the glory of true love

Glory glory glory glory
You can't never get enough
Time alone will tell the story
Of the glory of true love