>
>"It's not like country music is as wholesome as mom
>and apple pie," said Ralph DiClemente, a professor of
>public health at Emory University who's familiar with
>the study findings.
No one thought otherwise until the industry started calling John Denver a country singer.
Here's an example of the kind of unrelaxing lyrics that have always given country legs. The song is called Rubber Room and it's by Porter Wagoner, who died just the other week. Wagoner had another great song called "The Cold Hard Facts of Life". There's a reason Nick Tosches called one of his first books "Country: The Twisted Roots of Rock 'n' Roll"
In a buildin' tall with a stone wall around there's a rubber room When a man sees things and hears sounds that's not there He's headed for the rubber room Illusions in a twisted mind to save from self-destruction hmm it's the rubber room Where a man can run into the wall till his strength makes him fall and lie still And wait for help in the rubber room
From his blurry vision of doom a psycho in the rubber room The man in the room right next to mine screams a woman's name hits the wall in vain He's in the rubber room I hear footsteps poundin' on the floor God I hope they don't stop at my door Hmm I'm in the rubber room Now they've come to get me but they find I'm a screamin' pretty words tryin' to make 'em rhyme I'm in the rubber room hmm a psycho I'm in the rubber room hmm