Warmth of the Fire: Inside the Music & Lyrics
Insights on my new release, "Warmth of the Fire".
Once again, this week a new single is set to release, let’s talk about it.
Let’s start with the last verse on the recorded version of “Warmth of the Fire”…
When the veil of the evening falls
Stars hail in the night
Gather round with the loved ones
Feel the warmth of the fire
The oral tradition starts with people gathering together to tell tales, by fire, around the dinner table, on long walks together in nature. Every evening my family gathered around the dinner table and the rest of the world dissapeared. Outside of the family, little else mattered. Our family was blue collar, religious, and hard working. My father, led by example. Never once complained once about anything. He had an air of duty about him that whatever needed to get done, should get done without delay.
My pops with a friend fishing off the coast of New Jersey.
He also has an air about him that set people at ease. In a social setting, he kicked the party up a notch. His positivity was unshakable, it was infectious. You couldn’t help but join in to whatever he had in mind. Standing by him, my brothers and I felt the confidence to be able to fix anything with our hands. He was patient, humorous, and a great person to be around when shit needed to get done. The most mundane tasks, somehow, like a Tom Sawyer fence painter, he made the work fun.
Every family has a fire that it gather’s round, a glue that keeps it together, prevents the wheels from falling off. That fire was my pops Buzzy. Now that he’s gone, I’d say its my brother Tommy, or my cousin Salty. Those two definitely have what Buzzy had. You could have fire burning all around you, and he’d look at you and say, it’s all right, we’ll take care of it, sort it out.
His entire countenance, his outlook on life, his faith in others, was genetically passed to his three eldest boys, me being the youngest. In turns his genetics have been passed to my kids. In all of us, he lives on.
In our Sunday best, my two older brothers, Ted and Tom on either side of me.
My pops believed in the farmland we lived on, he believed that agriculture was God’s Work. He’s right. Few things make you understand the benefits of labor than spring planting and the fall harvest. It’s sun up to sun down, non stop, all hands on deck. On occasion when we failed to get out of bed, a pitcher of ice water would be heaved upon us. It was hilarious. If there was word to be done, there was no getting out of it. Being raised on a farm taught us to see the value in hard work, but also we learned early that the only way to get out of manual labor was to cultivate the mind. It’s great to be able to use your hands, as they are powerful tools, but the mind rules all.
We had a small farm, 30 acres. Half was sweet corn (silver queen), a quarter was vegetables for the family to eat, another quarter was lent out to neighboring families who needed to feed their livestock. The Washington’s kept horses and a Mule named Jack in the field around the farmhouse, another neighbor kept a small pen of sheep out in the field down from the house.
I think the first piece of machinery I used was just driving the pickup truck behind the potatoe digging machine (have no clue what it was called) as we pulled the ripe potatoes from the broken dirt. I just barely could see over the dash while pushing down the clutch. It wasn’t long before I was entrusted to run one of the tractors on plow and till duties in the spring. Another unreleased song off the album speaks of what it’s like to drive those tractors, nothing like the sound of a Farmall C, when you’re sitting on the top of that driver’s seat.
Now that you have a bit of the backstory established, let take a look at the lyrics in their entirety…
Lyrics:
Bring the horses to water
The last light of the sun
Wear that dirt and sweat with pride
Today's works all done
It's a simple life, but we know what's right
Part of his plan, God provided this land
Can I hear an Amen my friend
It's a simple truth, from the seed to the root
The fruit of our toil, springs forth from the soil
Sustenance again
Clean your hands and wash your face
Leave those dirty boots by the door
Stow away the tools of the trade
There's no need to work anymore
It's a simple life, but we know what's right
Part of his plan, God provided this land
Can I hear an Amen my friend
It's a simple truth, from the seed to the root
The fruit of our toil, springs forth from the soil
Sustenance again
When the veil of the evening falls
Stars hail in the night
Gather round with the loved ones
Feel the warmth of the fire
It's a simple life, but we know what's right
Part of his plan, God provided this land
Can I hear an Amen my friend
It's a simple truth, from the seed to the root
The fruit of our toil, springs forth from the soil
Sustenance again
The late 1940s International Harvester Farmall Cs we owned before they were sold off a few years back.
The lyrics paint the picture clearly. The conclusion of a typical day of work on the farm. Every night my grandmothers cooked us feasts and treated us as heroes. Everyone who pitched in, was royalty. I can still see the sun setting over the field, to the west of the farmhouse. I can smell the fresh rolls baked by my grandmother Nora. The sun tea and lemonade, buckets of them. I can see the smiles on the face of the Washington brothers as they brought the horsed to the water trough in the back of the house, next to that huge chestnut tree.
All of it is gone, so many of the people, the farms, left only to a memories. I write about the experience, and sing these stories to let everyone know that nothing is forgotten. I may live on the Pacific Ocean, as far as you can possibly get from rural Pennsylvania, but part of my heart still beats on that farm. That farm to me, represents my father. Every acre houses his honesty, strength, and integrity
It’s been 18 years since Buzz passed in 2006. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of him with a smile. This song is for him. To my friends who’ve lost their parents, know that it’s something you’ll never heal from, but also know it will be all right. We never get through things like that along, we need to be there for each other. Healing happens when we get together with family. Show up in person, don’t phone things in, and be there for them. That is how you feel the “Warmth of the Fire”.
The old boy, on the Farmall, shortly before he passed on.
About the Song:
A deep cut from the Ram’s upcoming album, “Warmth of the Fire” is a prayer to rural America. A subdued reflection on being raised on a small farm in Southeastern Pennsylvania; five children, two widowed grandmothers, and legendary parents.
We were raised to help others. Neighboring farmers worked together, and supported one another. With the family’s blessing, our neighbors kept their livestock free roaming by the farmhouse. In the evenings, they’d come over and bring the horses to water. My father’s bond with the land was his gift to each of his children, his spirit looks over those farmlands.
“With love comes sustenance.”
About the Ram:
Mark "The Ram" O'Donnell is an independent American composer and visual artist based out of Carlsbad, CA. He can be seen performing Southern California rock under the stage name, the Ram with a cast of local musicians.
For more information about the Ram and his music, go to www.TheRamMusic.com
To view the latest release on all streaming platforms:
https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/theram2/warmth-of-the-fire
Song Metadata
Warmth of the Fire
The Ram
UPC: 198673403010
ISRC: QZNWX2411741
Release date: August 2, 2024
ASCAP Work ID: 924101760
ASCAP Singer Songwriter IPI Number: 375350750
ASCAP Publisher IPI Number: 375351159
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