Hometown Ballad
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I spent three months in my grandfather's barn last summer. Turning Take On
Me into something my hometown could truly feel. Steel guitar replaced synthesizers.
That soaring chorus became a whisper. About waiting by the grain elevator, where Sarah used
to meet me. The original talked about coming for someone in a day or two.
My version stretched it into years of dust settling on pickup trucks. And promises fading
like paint on roadside signs. I slowed the tempo. Until you could
hear every regret between the notes. When I played it at the county fair,
grown men cried into their beer. They weren't mourning an 80s hit. They were mourning
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