Stories to Song - quinter |
Stories to song presentation
Family and FriendsInspired by Kirby Gillespie, Quinter, Kansas
Lyrics: Laughter at the lunch table, always having fun.
I walk into the cozy house and smell that pumpkin pie, Family can be really close, in the hardest of times, Family isn’t always easy, sometimes we fight, |
Country School
Inspired by Janice Roberts, Quinter, Kansas
Words by 2rd hour 7th grade English class
Music by Aaron Fowler © May 4, 2023
Lyrics:
While walking down that dusty lane towards that country school
Had to hurry, bells a’ringing, being late’s against the rule
I see the smoke rise from the chimney, I scurry into class
Set lunch pails in the cubby, the day is starting fast.
Chorus
I loved that one room country schoolhouse, I remember her oh so well
If her walls could talk, the stories they would tell
I learned to be inspired, how to care for everyone
That one room country schoolhouse I loved her oh so well.
She had her own way of teaching, so special yet so smart,
The first subject was Math, but it was not first in my heart.
Now it was time for recess, skin knees and playing ball,
Learning, Laughing, time with friends, a good time had by all.
I remember grade school, it was really fun,
learned to be a teacher to these little ones.
Then I went to college to earn a degree,
I had a taste of teaching, my calling I hadn’t seen.
Lessons learned now that I’m grown, I see my life is good,
When times were hard, I saw it through, as I knew I would
I came to Kansas in my youth, some say I had a drawl
Though some things changed, some not at all, so glad I found my call.
Mail Order House
Inspired by Sharon DuBois, Quinter, Kansas
Words by 3rd hour 8th grade English class
Music by Aaron Fowler © May 4, 2023
Lyrics:
When I opened up that catalog filled with many scenes,
I spot the perfect house, staring back at me.
I purchased that mail-order house, and soon it came by train.
Waiting for those pieces to come across the Kansas plains.
Chorus
A house is more than sticks and stone, memories live there too
The people who have walked her floors, the old and new
Dreams that are birthed in the shadows of the halls
The past, the present, the future it lives in the walls
Two weeks later all loaded up, with the trailer ready to go
Driving through the countryside to the place we will call home.
Piece by piece, stone by stone, with our neighbors’ aid.
Our brand new home now stands complete, with love and joy it’s made.
I swept the floor and picked up toys, yet all the while I dream,
Of the day these floors I walk, are my OWN to clean.
I look out of the window, and I can clearly see.
The future this mail-order house is holding now for me.
As generations come and go, this house still proudly stands,
Thinking ‘bout the families that have lived upon this land.
I hope this house remains the same, throughout the coming years,
As families fill it up with love, sharing laughter and their tears.
The Old Tractor
Inspired by Dan Crist, Quinter, Kansas
Words by 4th hour 7th grade English class
Music by Aaron Fowler © May 4, 2023
Lyrics:
As I sit in a field on a hot, summer morn,
I thought of my past, harvesting fields of corn.
Now I’m lonely and useless; so far, far away
From the farms that I worked on, “back in the day”.
Chorus
I’ve still got fuel left in the tank, I just can’t sit still
You won’t see me rusting here up there on that hill
Clean me up and give that starter another spin
I’ll got more to give don’t call me an old has-been
I can’t forget my first time in the field long ago
I was sitting there, looking around thinking how far I’ll go.
Tilling up the land that was touched by the sun,
Looking towards the stars when my day is finally done.
Sometimes I went to the shop, to get some needed care,
Rusted parts and worn-out tires, desperate for repair.
With skilled hands, he made some parts, to bring me back again
Restoration made me whole, to the tractor I had been.
My field days are over, but I still have work to do,
Now I’m on display, and my wish is coming true.
Kids are mesmerized by the past that I hold,
The stories that I tell, and the stories that I’ve told.