Jake Brown
- Member ID
- M1138345
- Genres
- Country, Pop, Rock
- Joined
- 10 Sep, 2026
- Country
- United States
- Looking For
- Musicians
- Collab Goals
- Find a co-writer, Get recorded/performed
- Uses AI
- No
- Charges for services
- No
- Willing to pay
- No
- Experience
- Professional
Jake has earned the following badges:
DescriptionAs a boy I stood watch at the forts I built and fought off imaginary Indians. Later in life, I fought off wolves and learned to live with ghosts. There was a stream through the back yard, deer in the field and ducks on the pond. Cellar holes with stone walls hand-made by the colonists sleep quietly in the forest today. No longer supporting homes, time transformed those foundations into giant planter boxes for Maple trees that now, stand tall, painting the sky with Burnt Sienna, Alizarin and gold. Extending from the foundations, stone walls built as fences snake their way through fields and woodlands. They corralled cattle, defined property lines and divided neighbors. Each of these elements was part of that indefinable something which makes it possible for a person to recognize them self. I never gave much thought to those days of sunlight spilling down through Maple trees. It was simply the way things were. It was home. And, I watched it fade in my rear-view mirror. The black top lay before me like a wound that does not heal and scarred my consciousness with a promise of redemption. I raced on. The whole country raced on. It was 1972. The summer of love was gone. It was a lie. Vietnam was any ones guess. My parents were getting divorced. In an odd way, their divorce made the senselessness of everything else seem reasonable. We were all engaged in a colossal exodus. To where, I didn't know but one thing was certain. I was leaving. I could taste the soot in the air as I drove into Scranton Pennsylvania. It was 10:30 PM. and a neon sign lured me. "DINER", was all it said. I entered the twilight zone of late night breakfast. The pallor of yellow incandescence hung like a felon above mill workers seated at the counter. They sized me up with a glance. I sat in a booth. "What'll it be hon," the waitress asked. Eggs over medium, home fries, bacon and English muffins I said... ([removed])