“Old Fred Sings a Song”

Rick always had this horrible feeling that he would end up homeless or alone. He wrote this song back in 1969 about old Fred. I think that he was projecting what could happen to him when he got old. He would tell throughout the years that he didn’t want to end up that way. Well he didn’t. Even though he got sick, he and I had a great relationship for 36 years and he is well cared for where he is now. They all love him and take good care of him (he tested negative for Covid19). He isn’t alone either. He’s a chick magnet. Too bad the chicks are in their 70’s. We FaceTime once a week and he touches the screen of the Ipad that they hold to try and touch my face. I can’t wait until they let me in to see him again. Working a lot during this quarantine, listening to books on Audible, and watching everything on Netflix, Amazon and Disney Plus helps to distract me from being sad.

If you want to listen to the Audio of Old Fred Sings A Song:

1. go to demophonic.com (Rick’s music publishing website)

2. on the left side of the screen click song catalog

3.  then at the top organize the songs in alphabetical order (because there are so many)

4. scroll down to “O” and find the song.

stay safe and healthy everyone.

Music by Frederick George Moore
Lyrics by Frederick George Moore
                     and Jerry Wilfong
Copyright © July 24, 1969
Demophonic Music Publishing BMI
Used with permission
In the blue skies of my mind
In the green fields I left behind me
In my own

Well now I’m in the fac-to-ry uh huh
Well I’m in the big ci-ty alright
Well I work my fingers to the bone
Tryin’ to make rent for my home
I’m pushing brooms on floors all day
But why? I don’t know – why did I leave my home?
I don’t know what good it does to roam about
Searching when nothing’s to be

Well today I roamed the old high-ways uh huh
Tomorrow maybe I’ll sail a-waves ooh hoo
Well I guess it doesn’t matter where I’ll be
That grave’s gonna be in front of me
I’ve got no money for a stone
Oh god I’m alone – in a city’s ghetto grime
I don’t know that I can ever find my home
Searching for what’s been left be-hind

(Original:  A deserted desert sky
Where will I die? )

I guess it doesn't matter where I'll be that grave's gonna be in front of me
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