In a modest rent house in the small East Texas town of Elkhart, Texas, Cody Cannon and Cody Tate began to write music, only dreaming of the success that is sure to follow. They began to incorporate the talent and imagination of friend and guitarist John Jeffers. At that time, they called themselves Lucky Southern, though they had only three members. As time passed, with their inspiration mounting, they moved to Tyler, Texas. There they met up with Jeff Hogg, a mutual friend and drummer from Palestine, Texas, and Gary Brown, a bass guitarist who had grown up in Neches, Texas. They came together and came to be known as Whiskey Myers.
Soon, the group was playing private parties on flatbed trailers in small towns around East Texas. The sound they emitted was something more unique than anyone had expected. From their first show in Montalba, Texas, a young Whiskey Myers was hooked on performing, and the crowds were hooked on them. In the spring of 2007, they were given the opportunity to open for Roger Creager at Gator’s Bar and Grill in Gun Barrel City, Texas. The club owner was so impressed by their performance and the crowd that had come to the stage that he asked them to come back the next weekend to open for The Eli Young Band. From then on, popularity for the band began to swell. They were heard on live stages all over East Texas, in interviews on local radio stations, and seen on television giving live interviews. Suddenly it seemed that the whole region knew who Whiskey Myers was, and everyone was becoming familiar with their high energy twin guitars, soulful vocals, and unstoppable rhythm.
Whiskey Myers’ musical style was forged from several different genres of music from several different eras. The most obvious of these are the blues rock jam bands such as Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Allman Brothers Band, and Led Zeppelin. Whiskey Myers takes the blues rock genre and mixes it with modern day Texas Country such as Reckless Kelly, Randy Rogers, and Cross Canadian Ragweed to derive a new sound that is sure to take concert listeners on an atmospheric roller coaster. With a sound like no other and a stage presence that captivates anyone close enough to notice, a live concert performed by this young band is something that must be seen to be believed.
The Tyler area has been instrumental in the development of Whiskey Myers from a group of musicians to a band. As the group continues to expand its fan base, new listeners all over Texas are beginning to recognize their talent. They continue to engulf listeners with their sound, ensuring that the name Whiskey Myers is one that will be remembered for ages to come.
Bury My Bones
Whiskey Myers Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Tell her that I love her but my soul's gone home
And take my vessel to Anderson County
Drive real slow and take the long way home
Tell my kin to pick up a shovel
Wrestle that sugar sand and bury my bones
Won't you bury my bones beneath these pines?
When it comes time for you to bury my bones
Don't throw me no funeral
Sister, don't cry
Saw that fiddle, brother, pass that 'shine
Deep down in the hollow
Pick the tallest pine
Dig it real deep, where the roots touch mine
Cross the red river where it opens wide
The heroine sails to the Choctaw side
Follow my trail to a silver stone
And gather my body when you bury my bones
Won't you bury my bones?
Yeah, if I die young, write my mother
Tell her that I love her, but my soul's gone home
And take me back to Anderson County
Drive real slow and take the long way home
And tell my kin to pick up a shovel
Wrestle that sugar sand and bury my bones
Bury my bones beneath these pines
When it comes time
Yeah, if I die young
Yeah, if I die young
Yeah, if I die young
The song "Bury My Bones" by Whiskey Myers is quite an interesting lyrical depiction of death and the singer's desire to have his remains laid to rest in a specific location in Anderson County, Texas. The song seems to suggest that the singer has accepted his own mortality and is now making preparations for his eventual death. The song is somewhat of a plea to his loved ones to carry out his wishes after he dies.
The song talks about the singer's desire to be buried in Anderson County, Texas, in a spot beneath the pine trees which he holds dear. This is a reflection of the personal connection that the singer has with this place and how he wants his remains to rest in peace in this place. It is also clear that the singer prefers a simple burial rather than a grand funeral, with perhaps some whiskey and a fiddle in memory of his life.
The final message of the song is powerful: “if I die young, write my mother, tell her that I love her, but my soul's gone home, and take me back to Anderson County, drive real slow and take the long way home”. This seems like an acknowledgment that death is inevitable but the hardworking country singer is prepared to meet his maker with a certain dignity, having lived life on his terms. The song is poignant, mournful, and tinged with a sense of regret and nostalgia.
Line by Line Meaning
If I die young, write my mother
In the unfortunate event of my untimely death, pen a few words to express my love for my mother
Tell her that I love her but my soul's gone home
Let her know that even though I'm not physically present, my love transcends death and carries through to the afterlife
And take my vessel to Anderson County
Transport my body to Anderson County
Drive real slow and take the long way home
Take the scenic route and drive slowly as a sign of respect towards my corpse
Tell my kin to pick up a shovel
Direct my family members to pick up shovels
Wrestle that sugar sand and bury my bones
Engage in the difficult task of burying my remains in the sugar sand
Won't you bury my bones beneath these pines?
Please, use these pines as the final resting spot for my bones.
When it comes time for you to bury my bones
When the time comes for my bones to be buried, carry out my wishes.
Don't throw me no funeral
Requesting not to have a formal funeral service
Sister, don't cry
Urging his sister not to cry
Saw that fiddle, brother, pass that 'shine
Play music and share a drink to celebrate his life
Deep down in the hollow
Guiding the location to bury his bones
Pick the tallest pine
Use the tallest pine tree as the landmark to bury his bones
Dig it real deep, where the roots touch mine
Dig the hole deep enough to ensure that the roots of the pine tree touch his bones
Cross the red river where it opens wide
Make sure to cross the red river at the widest point
The heroine sails to the Choctaw side
Refers to the river as having a heroic spirit that will guide his body to the Choctaw side
Follow my trail to a silver stone
Track his journey to a silver stone as a sign that he has reached the end of his journey
And gather my body when you bury my bones
Assembling his body before burying his bones
Yeah, if I die young
Maintaining the theme of a premature death
Yeah, if I die young
Reiterating the notion of dying young
Yeah, if I die young
Echoing the idea of dying young and tragically.
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Dijon Mcfarlane, John Craig Jeffers
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@JoeyP322
I’ve been sitting here for awhile, numbing myself. Listening to this song in a dark bar... it gets louder as my memories fill my soul... my eyes swell with tears, but I can’t be seen like this. I miss my brothers and sisters who can’t be with me. My past, my life... Brothers and Lovers lost in a hidden tear or a smile.
There’s no halo over my head. I don’t point my finger at anyone in righteous indignation, unless I break bread with them, and know them well, but I’ll never judge. I miss a lot of my friends. I wish I could see them again.
A few too many drinks, and the smell of stale cigarettes, and an ever present, stinging smoke is still hanging in the dark air, like a heavy dense fog, in an old damp, cold graveyard... it’s there forever. The soul of this bar are the souls of those departed that look over us to protect us. They try to tell us is not make the same mistakes, they made, yet they continuously see us make them. They’re so sad, yet they keep trying.
The smell of worn out, faded leather jackets, making sounds as they move... the only way leather can... every one with their own stories, some are told, most are not... my leather… it’s cold and hard on the outside, and warm on the inside, like my soul. Or maybe it’s the opposite. The buckles cling when they hit metal, a warning I’m near... a warning others bring when they enter as well.
This place is almost holy. It’s a sacred place. The altar is a sticky bar top and the floors creak as you walk on them. They all have the stains of those who have desecrated it, and those that made it their home away from home. It’s haunted atmosphere invites those that embrace her silent confessional.
Then this song comes on the house bar speakers… suddenly I feel a boost of energy as I watch eyes around me begin to open wide with emotion. We all look at each other and nod. An acknowledgement that’s understood. No need to talk or explain.
There are few strangers in this place... I listen and I get more emotional... we all do. I try to hide the tears in my eyes.
My demons still scream in my thoughts and remind of things I want to forget, and the booze fills my head with a haze that puts me into a calming fog. I don’t want to leave this feeling. The pain hurts less. My demons slowly disappear and take the shape of regret. The alcohol numbs my mind. Blocking out my nightmares and thoughts. I feel human again. I can be saved for a few moments, and I won’t cry. I’ll take this victory for now, knowing that my battle is far from over.
Eventually, reality strikes. The clock face is staring at me, like a countdown. It’s my time for me to leave... I’m tired. I don’t want to go, but something is calling me.
Still emanating from the acrid stale cigarette smoke, and spilled alcohol.
I don my heavy leather jacket. It’s old and aged, but it keeps me warm and sheltered. It’s not pretty, and it’s pelted with holes, tears and stains. Can’t wash off the blood, the pain and the years of memories... The beatings I took and the tears I shed. The hugs I shared and the places I’ve been. Pain was not an option. It’s a constant necessity. It’s a badge I wear with honor.
Very few know how my soul has been beaten, and abused. It is the pain that still holds me tight. Never letting go. Clenching onto me like talons of death. Squeezing me just enough to keep me down, but hoping for a chance at any light. Hoping that I’ll numb the pain. Praying that my demons subside. Giving them me one more day.
My memories are all but a haze in my mind. I close my eyes and they all fill my soul with the never ending emptiness that is quietly smothered in this artificial silence.
I slowly walk outside into the brisk cold air. I see my escape. She’s waiting for me. She sits in darkness and silence. The overhead street lights allow for her majestic beauty to stand out. Her cold chrome glistening in the clear moonlight without feeling. Like a junkyard dog longing for attention. She sits and waits for me to give her life and meaning.
I get on my shovel, straddle above the hard cold leather seat, pull out the choke, turn the ignition key and jump down hard on the kick start pedal, and turn my throttle full, to feed my S&S... life is good. After a few hard jumps she starts to breathe with a loud explosion... gasping another breath…
The strong odor of gas and exhaust fumes pollutes my lungs, seeping into my leather jacket. It’s so cold out, but the smell warms me. The un-baffled pipes echo loud through the empty neighborhood. A few more thrusts on the throttle and she breathes steady. She’s alive, ready for another journey. Faithful, and ever ready for whatever battle is ahead. She’s ready to take me wherever I want to go without question.
I sit back, thinking, it took me a while to get here, but I’m here... I made it. Served my country. Lost some brothers and lovers, I miss the old days when I was young and dumb. No cares or responsibilities. Just my brothers in arms who I would die for, and lovers who would betray me.
With my cold leather gloves on, I wipe my eyes, from beneath my riding glasses, rub the cold from my face, and throttle her into a pulsating forward motion. I ride past the ghosts of my brothers and sisters who silently cheer me on... still looking for my shelter... my memories haunt me like a curse, tucked away until another moment comes... longing for a taste of numbness, that will stop me from crying again...
@wrrichard4615
To all my brothers and sisters who served, thank you! Your service and sacrifice is not forgotten.
@thebruh8904
gonna become a marine when i turn 18 in a couple months been drinking tonight listening to music and this song hits considering all the family i have who have served
@tommaso7649
Thanks to all the soldiers that died defending freedom. From italy
@grayrusch6425
@BECHA-wk6uq
@@tommaso7649чью свободу? США вторгались в другие страны не имея на то право и доказательства
@TheGuyBroSixtyFuckingNine
Soldiers are just Genocidal Maniacs
@azdesertrat9104
I cry every time I hear this song. My uncle Sam served in Vietnam and came back with PTSD, but back then PTSD wasn't even a diagnosis. He became a chronic alcoholic and ended up passing out in a burning house, which is how he died. I remember him vaguely as a small child, but remember him enough to know that even though he was born and raised on a reservation he loved his country enough to serve (just like Ira Hayes). Respect and hats off to ALL our men and women who served, sacrificed and gave all so that those of us who remain can have the freedom and liberties we have today. Ahi'ye' (Apache for thank you!).
@heftylefty4054
Much respect for your Uncle Sam! If he’s anything line Ira Hayes then hats off brother!!!
@yijig
See you down range
@Damonh234
Unfortunately, it happens more than they wanted to admit - my grandpa was the same after Korea. Died after he dropped his cig on the carpet when he passed out from drinking.