Walter grew up in Fargo, ND and spent his teenage summers working on the family farm. In the evenings his uncle taught him to play guitar and his grandmother would play songs from the Methodist Hymnal on the piano. He learned to fingerpick when the great folk music scare of the the 1960’s (Dave Van Ronk’s phrase) swept the nation and played bad rock ‘n roll when the British invaded. He started writing songs.
One morning in January, 1968, he was driving to a college class, it was 30 degrees below zero and the heater in his Studebaker Silverhawk wasn’t working. He vowed he would never spend another winter in North Dakota. He joined the Air Force. A lot of interesting things happened after that.
Contribution: Natural State
Sooner or later, we’re all dead on arrival,
It’s the way of all flesh you know.
Death comes too soon or it comes too late,
Or maybe you’re ready to go.
But we all make that rendevouz
We all meet our fate
As for me, I want to be,
Buried in a natural state.
So wrap me in in a shroud and lower me down
Or build a simple wooden casket and put it in the ground
Cover me up with Arkansas dirt, that would be just great.
Let me be buried in a natural state.
I want to be buried in a natural state.
Arkansas is the Natural State,
Here’s one more reason why:
You’ll be so serene if you’re going green
When it’s your time to die.
When it all comes down to dust,
What’s a body worth?
Make my cemetary a sanctuary
When I surrender to the earth.