Dan Gribbin
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Writing the Florida Folk Song



Credits
Lyric Credits: Daniel Gribbin
Music Credits: Daniel Gribbin
Producer Credits: Daniel Gribbin
Publisher Credits: Daniel Gribbin
Performance Credits: Daniel Gribbin
Description
Short Song Description:
Fun about the dangers of life in Florida.
Long Song Description:
The song details all of the ways that a person can be done in by forces in the Florida environment. It encourages the would-be songwriter to take advantage of these wonderful disasters.
Story Behind the Song:
Several of us write a comic song each year to share at the Lake County Folk Festival. I wrote this one for the group itself, but they had me sing it on the main stage for the closing ceremonies.
Metadata
Song Length 4:24
Primary Genre Folk-Americana
Tempo / Feel Folk-Americana
Tempo / Feel Medium Slow (91 - 110)
Lead Vocal Male Vocal
Mood 1 Affable
Similar Artist 1 Kris Kristofferson
Language English
Era 2000 and later
Lyrics
You want to write a Florida folk song?
Let me share these simple rules.
Every craftsman has his strategy,
Each artisan her tools.

First you grab a good disaster.
A sinkhole should suffice.
Then you rile an alligator,
Just to add some spice.

For you see we live in Florida
Where trouble lurks in swamps.
And unsuspecting victims
Disappear with chomp, chomp, chomp.

We're writing folk music in Florida
Where hurricanes abound.
And whole resorts of suntanned visitors
Get swallowed by the ground.
We're blessed with sharkbites in New Smyrna,
Squishy pythons in the glades.
A ten-foot crocodile with GPS
Who'll stalk you wearing shades.

Oh, we could write a dozen ballads
On the fate of those who swim
In snake-infested waters--
The statistics there are grim.

And how about the lightning strikes
In Tampa where they say
A waterspout engulfed a town
That's missing to this day.

Every character in your folk song
Can meet a gruesome fate
In this glorious vacationland
We call the Sunshine State.


You see, then, songwriting in Florida
Is really no great trick.
Disaster's in the air--
The sea the land, just take your pick.

I haven't even mentioned
Coral snakes or large black bears.
Spiders? Big as saucers.
But no use splitting hairs.

Suffice it to remind you,
My would-be balladeer,
We're living in a paradise
Of venom, gore, and fear.

We're writing folk music in Florida
Where hurricanes abound.
And whole resorts of suntanned visitors
Get swallowed by the ground.
We're blessed with sharkbites in New Smyrna,
Squishy pythons in the glades.
A ten-foot crocodile with GPS
Who'll stalk you wearing shades.