VibeFoundry - Not My Fight | Southern Rock

4 months ago
7

A Southern tale of pride, land, and the lines drawn in the dirt. This song dives into the lives of small-town folk standing their ground and grappling with a silent but looming threat. It's a story about knowing when a fight is worth it, and when stepping aside might leave someone else vulnerable. Grit, resilience, and a hint of foreboding, all wrapped up in a down-home tune.

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Listen on your favorite platform:
🎧 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/1L1K58vbpueWgkRAcou32C?si=8b2f1dcfed10447b
🎵 YouTube Music: https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=PsZ9aVjgA8s&si=PoRDAZfB-2DzdzZl

Enjoy the track and let me know what you think in the comments!

Lyrics:
In a town where folks hold what’s theirs tight,
but sometimes trouble slips in, ready for a fight.
One neighbor grows bold, reaching out his hand,
while a barrel of fire waits in his land.

In a little town, where everyone’s kin,
one neighbor’s claimin’ land, diggin’ in.
Says it’s his, always was, no need to fuss,
sets his stake down, leaves no room for trust.

There’s a barrel in his barn, and it’s old and cracked,
filled with fire that could turn us black.
And the big man down the road, well, he don’t care,
he says, "Ain't my fight, I won’t go there."
So we’re left to stand, just us and our pride,
while he waits to take what’s on our side.

At first, it seemed like just a little bit,
a patch of dirt, no need to get lit.
But he takes a mile, every inch he pleads,
and our quiet town’s feelin’ the greed.

There’s a barrel in his barn, and it’s old and cracked,
filled with fire that could turn us black.
And the big man down the road, well, he don’t care,
he says, "Ain't my fight, I won’t go there."
So we’re left to stand, just us and our pride,
while he waits to take what’s on our side.

We all know that old barrel ain’t safe,
it’s packed with fire, one spark’s all it’d take.
But we keep hushin’ up, holdin’ our breath,
while he grows stronger, watchin’ what’s left.

One brave man steps up, looks him in the eye,
neighbor just laughs, says, "Give it a try."
The rest of us waitin’, wonderin’ why,
our big man just watches as we hang high.

There’s a barrel in his barn, and it’s old and cracked,
filled with fire that could turn us black.
And the big man down the road, well, he don’t care,
he says, "Ain't my fight, I won’t go there."
So we’re left to stand, just us and our pride,
while he waits to take what’s on our side.

Folks around here, they guard their ground,
but fear of fire keeps their heads down.
Each night we wonder, will he strike?
While the big man shrugs, not takin’ the hike.

We all know only he’s got the might,
to stop this neighbor from takin’ our light.
But he stands back, says, “Not my fight,”
and lets the neighbor tighten the bite.

There’s a barrel in his barn, and it’s old and cracked,
filled with fire that could turn us black.
And the big man down the road, well, he don’t care,
he says, "Ain't my fight, I won’t go there."
So we’re left to stand, just us and our pride,
while he waits to take what’s on our side.

And that barrel sits there, ready to blow,
while fear in our town just grows and grows.
In our town where we hold things dear,
now we’re caught in the grip of trouble and fear.

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