About the song

John Denver’s Sweet Melinda. A song that evokes the dusty roads and weary hearts of Americana. Denver, a folk icon known for his sunny disposition and odes to nature, takes a surprising turn here. Sweet Melinda is a tale of desperation, a bluesy ballad sung by a man on the run.

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Released in 1979, the song stands out from Denver’s usual repertoire. Here, the banjo and fiddle give way to a driving acoustic guitar and a melancholic melody. Denver’s voice, usually brimming with optimism, takes on a raspy edge, reflecting the weariness of the protagonist.

The lyrics paint a vivid picture of a man at his wit’s end. We first meet him on a long southbound journey, fueled by pills and burgers, his eyes bloodshot from exhaustion.

The location – Linden, Texas – sets the scene in the heart of rural America. Sweet Melinda becomes a mantra, a desperate plea whispered through gritted teeth. Is she a lover he’s running to, or a place of refuge? The answer remains tantalizingly ambiguous.

Sweet Melinda is a departure for Denver, but it showcases his versatility as a songwriter. He doesn’t shy away from the darker side of the open road, the loneliness and desperation that can accompany a life in constant motion.

The song resonates with anyone who’s ever felt lost, adrift, and yearning for solace. It’s a reminder that even the most wholesome images can have hidden depths. So, when you hear the first strum of the guitar, settle in for a journey that’s not quite what you expect from John Denver.

Prepare for a tale of exhaustion, longing, and the ever-present hope for redemption, all wrapped in the melancholic beauty of Sweet Melinda.

Read more:  John Denver – This Old Guitar

Video

Lyrics

Pulled out of Denton, Texas two days and nights ago,
I been living on pills and burgies, the whites of my eyes don’t show.
The south bound headlights are making me blind, I’m too damn tired to blink.

My toes are numb and my brain’s gone dumb, I can just barely think.
Lo de looou, sweet Melinda, my wife.
The lonesome moan of this eighteen-wheeler cuts through me like a knife.

Except for you, sweet Melinda, my wife, I been riding on empty most all of my life.Two more hours till daylight, starting to rain again.
A sign up ahead says welcome to Paradise, Population Ten.
Me and this truck and that old white line stumbling on and on,

Like three old drinking buddies coming home at dawn.
Singing ooooo, sweet Melinda, my wife.
The lonesome moan of this eighteen-wheeler cuts through me like a knife.
Except for you, sweet Melinda, my wife, I been riding on empty most all of my life.

Except for you, sweet Melinda, my wife.
The lonesome moan of this eighteen-wheeler cuts through me like a knife.
Except for you, sweet Melinda, my wife, I been riding on empty most all of my life.
I been riding on empty most all of my life