Creek Fire Yodel 4

**(Intro – spoken over the riff, half-laughing)** Y’all smell that? That’s the creek catchin’ fire… **Verse 1** Boots in the mud where the cottonmouths pray Granddaddy’s banjo still ain’t learned to stay We stomped on the porch till the floorboards confessed Truth comes up black like oil from the chest Fiddle bleats once, like a hound that got left Gospel in the rafters, whiskey on the breath Acoustic guitars grin and grit at the same time Playin’ like they know we been livin’ on borrowed rhyme **Pre-chorus** Stack the voices high, cathedral in the pines Arpeggios climbin’ like kudzu on the lines Soft 808s kiss the bottom of the night Keep the pulse low while the spirit takes flight **Chorus** Creek fire yodel, Southern-fried and loud Heavy metal heaven breakin’ through the clouds Stomp it till the sawdust turns to gold Folk-truth gospel for the young and the old Yodel-ay-ee-hoo through the smoke and the heat Stadium swamp where the sinners all meet Layered and punchy, bluegrass on fire Creek bed soul with a heavy metal choir **Verse 2** Mama sang low while the lightning bugs lied Said “boy, keep your boots dirty and your spirit untied” We hollered at the moon till the moon hollered back Truth ain’t pretty but it keeps you on track Playful little hammer-ons under the grit Acoustic strings laughin’ while the fiddle has a fit 808s roll soft like a fog on the flat Keepin’ the stomp honest while the yodel goes fat **Swampy Rap Verse** Yeah… mud up to the ankles, soul up to the neck Talkin’ creek-bed scripture with a cigarette speck Grandma’s skillet still sizzlin’ in my blood I spit that Southern truth while the water turns to flood Rap thick and swampy, drawl draggin’ slow Every bar a cypress root, every line a low Soft 808 thumpin’ like a gator under boards Gritty guitar choppin’, fiddle bleatin’ chords I been baptizin’ lies in the blackwater deep Yodel-ay-ee— —hoo! (sudden metal yodel cuts through) Come up coughin’ truth that the preachers can’t keep Stack them layered vocals, cathedral on the rise Southern-fried heavy while the 808 sighs Yodel-ay-ee-hoo through the Spanish moss night Rap and the yodel twistin’ wrong into right Stomp it, punch it, bluegrass in the veins Creek fire burnin’ while the whole damn place rains **Bridge** (half-time, swampy, almost spoken) Ain’t no clean water left in this old town Just the sound of the yodel pullin’ heaven down Cathedral arpeggios in the back of the throat Gritty guitars and a soft electronic ghost **Final Chorus** (bigger, more layered, crowd joining on the yodel) Creek fire yodel, Southern-fried and loud Heavy metal heaven breakin’ through the clouds Stomp it till the sawdust turns to gold Folk-truth gospel for the young and the old Yodel-ay-ee-hoo through the smoke and the heat Stadium swamp where the sinners all meet Layered and punchy, bluegrass on fire Creek bed soul with a heavy metal choir **(Outro – everything collapses into one last huge yodel, fiddle bleat, soft 808 heartbeat, distant crowd, then silence that still feels like fire)**