Sing on Mockingbird

I wrote “Sing on Mockingbird” as a tribute to Southern culture, Southern people, and the working men and women who are too often judged by the way they speak instead of the character they carry. I grew up understanding that a Southern accent can make some people assume things about you before they ever hear what you have to say. There are folks who hear a drawl, see callused hands, or recognize a country way of life and immediately decide they are looking at someone who is uneducated or somehow beneath them. I wrote this song because I reject that idea. The South has produced some of the most brilliant writers, thinkers, inventors, educators, military leaders, entrepreneurs, musicians, and statesmen in American history. The region is home to world class universities, incredible traditions, and some of the finest food and music anywhere. Yet Southern people are still treated as ignorant simply because of an accent or because they come from a rural or working class background. To me, intelligence isn't measured by how polished your vocabulary sounds. Character isn't measured by the clothes you wear. And a man's worth certainly isn't determined by whether he works behind a desk or comes home with dirt under his fingernails. “Sing on, Mockingbird” is my outlaw country answer to those who sit on a gilded perch and ridicule the farmer, the welder, the truck driver, the mill worker, the soldier, the widow, or anybody else who lives an ordinary life and carries an extraordinary amount of responsibility. I don't expect everyone to agree with me. Honestly, I wrote the song to say exactly that. You don't have to like us. You don't have to understand us. But don't mistake the way we talk for what we know, and don't mistake working with our hands for having nothing in our heads. This is “Sing on Mockingbird,” written by me, Rickey Phipps. SING ON MOCKINGBIRD Written By: Rickey Phipps Verse 1 They laugh at the calluses built on our hands, They sneer at the dust where a workin' man stands. They mimic our accents make us the butt of their jokes, And they think they're better, than us country folks. They measure a man by the way that he speaks, The ones they look down on are counted for sheep. They've taken for granted the men who built this land And the hard drivin' heart of the workin' man. Chorus Sing on, Mockingbird, sing from your limb, Echo every speech of yours till the day grows dim. You can ridicule the farmer, the welder, and the mill, But you'll never break a backbone of his iron will. While you're mockin' the lives from your gilded perch, We're diggin' your Pommes de Terre straight from the dirt. When the smoke finally settles and the shouting is through, Come on Mockin' bird... just what can you do? Verse 2 Some learned the chorus that the loudest mouths sing, Trading common sense for whatever trends can bring. They curse the same banner that shelters their speech, Takin' more liberty than their pens can even reach. They have no conviction, just a deep festerin' lust, Trading off enduring truths and security for the just. But freedom won't lay down just cause someone complains, It'll survive through the people that are dealin' with the pain. Chorus Sing on, Mockingbird, sing from your limb, Echo every speech of yours till the day grows dim. You can ridicule the farmer, the welder, and the mill, But you'll never break a backbone of his iron will. While you're mockin' the lives from your gilded perch, We're diggin' your Pommes de Terre straight from the dirt. When the smoke finally settles and the shouting is through, Come on Mockin' bird... just what can you do? Bridge Go ask every man who carried the steel. Go ask every driver who's turning the wheel. Go ask every soldier who answered the call, Or every old widow with a flag on the wall. The heartbeat of freedom ain't found in applause; It's in ordinary people that still believe in the cause. You don't have to like us—you don't have to agree, To be honest, I feel better if you don't agree with me. Chorus Sing on, Mockingbird, sing from your limb, Echo every speech of yours till the day grows dim. You can ridicule the farmer, the welder, and the mill, But you'll never break a backbone of his iron will. While you're mockin' the lives from your gilded perch, We're diggin' your Pommes de Terre straight from the dirt. When the smoke finally settles and the shouting is through, Come on Mockin' bird... just what can you do? Outro Go ahead Mockin' bird.... Polly wanna cracker? hahaha #SingOnMockingbird #RickeyPhipps #OutlawCountry #OutlawCountryMusic #CountryMusic #SouthernMusic #SouthernPride #SouthernCulture #WorkingMan #WorkingClass #CountrySong #AmericanMusic #Freedom #SouthernAccent #CountryLife #RuralAmerica #AmericanCountry #OriginalSong #Songwriter #RickeyPhippsSongwriter