Collaboration Phase This is a work in progress. Collaborators are busy busy!
Project Type: Public
Started: Jun 25, 2020
Description: Looking for a male vocalist from West Virginia. I need the authentic accent. The artist will be the lead vocalist, if he so desires.
Project brief: If you are a Trump supporter, this song is not something you want to sing. The lyrics are self explanatory. I wouldn't want to sully them by trying to fake a West Virginian accent. I need a male vocalist, preferably lower register (think Johnny Cash) but I can provide the tracks in any key that's comfortable. The delivery is more important than the range. I will provide the harmonies, I just need the lead vocals. Vocals are on the left side, so you can practice with it turned off. If you wish to continue, I'll provide an instrumental track to sing to.
For audio file uploads, please use: 24 bit, 44.1 kHz
I was a coal miner’s son I died in 1921 Fighting for the right to unionize Fighting for my kids and wife Didn’t want to lose my life But I just couldn’t stand to hear the lies They were rich and they were strong Didn’t know from right or wrong Money was the only thing it seemed Kept us in a rundown shack Paid in scrip then took it back All they ever cared about was greed Child of the child of my child What the hell you thinkin’ of? I would give you a scoldin’ Out of love Child of the child of my child Why don’t you understand I died to be a red neck Now you’re bowing to the man They shot old Hatfield down And strode around the town They knew they had us up against it all They took away our homes They cheated and they stole And jailed the ones that heard the union’s call We were poor and we were scared We were sorely unprepared But we gathered in the thousands for the fight Sheriff Chafin shot us well I heard he burns in hell Well rich men lie and think that it’s alright Child of the child of my child What the hell you thinkin’ of? I would give you a scoldin’ Out of love Child of the child of my child Why don’t you understand I died to be a red neck And you’re bowing to the man When a rich man tells a lie You’ll see the unions die He’s waiting just to cut you down again Tells you what you want to hear Whisper sweet lies in your ear You really think that bastard is your friend? © 2020 Russell Alexander/All Rights Reserved
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