All Downhill From Here?

I just finished re-rerecording and re-mixing a song I wrote about a year ago. The lyrics are now ominously prophetic-- although not in the way I thought.

The song is called "All Downhill From Here," a title based on the ambiguity of the phrase. I often use "all downhill from here" positively-- like my life is a bike ride, and now I'm coasting. But there is also, obviously, the negative, spiraling out-of-control connotation (which my wife prefers).

I'm fairly happy with the mix on this one. You can hear everything-- it's not as muddy as the first version-- and I had a lot of fun with my wah pedal.

Here are the lyrics . . .

This is as good as it gets . . .

Big TV, no regrets

Fine woman in your bed,

Kids sleeping like the dead.

No famine, plague or war;

Dog splayed on the floor.

Your interest rate at an all time low,

And free trade with Mexico.

It’s all downhill from here.

When you go down

You don’t need to steer.

It’s all downhill from here,

So drop it in neutral and crack your beer.

I wrote it when I was concerned about Trump, tariffs, and NAFTA. Turn out, that should have been the least of my concerns. We've got a plague-like situation-- although not nearly as deadly as the bubonic version-- and let's hope the economic decline doesn't result in famine for those hit hardest. 

We are certainly enjoying our family dog, our family TV, and uninterrupted sleep. The question is: what sort of downhill are we headed for?