From the recording Everything Else Was Noise
“Till The Sparkin’ Stops” is the comic relief on *Everything Else Was Noise*.
This song is about that dangerous kind of confidence some of us have when we probably ought to step away from the toolbox. It celebrates the man who may not know what he is doing, may not read directions, and may or may not still have both eyebrows when the job is done — but somehow manages to call it “fixed enough.”
There is a lot of truth hiding under the foolishness. Most of us have had moments where we charged ahead with more pride than sense, hoping duct tape, dumb luck, and a good story would carry us through.
At its heart, “Till The Sparkin’ Stops” is a playful, self-deprecating country song about laughing at yourself, owning your imperfections, and admitting that sometimes the only repair plan is to keep touching stuff until the sparking stops.
— Lane Alan Dumser
Lyrics
The lights are on, but nobody’s home
My cornbread ain’t done in the middle
I’m ’bout as handy as a back pocket on a shirt
But I can fake most things with
A piece of paper, a damn good story, and a geetar
Got a toolbox full of rusty dreams
And a roll of duct tape pride
If it hums, smokes, leaks, or screams
I just poke it from the side
If it ain’t broke, I’ll do my best to
If it just needs tightened, I’ll snap it half in two
I ain’t got time to troubleshoot
Ain’t readin’ no directions
I don’t need no fancy book
Or professional inspections
I’m just gonna keep touchin’ shit
Till the sparkin’ stops
If it don’t catch fire
Then I call that fixed enough
Lord knows I ain’t careful
But I’m confident a lot
I’m just gonna keep touchin’ shit
Till the sparkin’ stops
Breaker box was buzzin’ loud
Like a jar full of mad hornets
I said, “That don’t look so bad”
Then I reached my hand up toward it
My cousin yelled, “You better not!”
I said, “Boy, watch and learn”
Now my eyebrows smell like bacon grease
And my left boot’s slightly burned
Mama said, “Son, you’re dangerous”
Daddy said, “He gets that from me”
Grandpa just shook his head and said
“Hide the ladder and the batteries”
Now the porch light works on Tuesdays
And the fridge hums in the wall
The ceiling fan spins backwards
But hell, it spins, that’s all
If it ain’t broke, I’ll do my best to
If it just needs tightened, I’ll snap it half in two
I ain’t got time to troubleshoot
Ain’t readin’ no directions
I don’t need no fancy book
Or professional inspections
I’m just gonna keep touchin’ shit
Till the sparkin’ stops
If it don’t catch fire
Then I call that fixed enough
Lord knows I ain’t careful
But I’m confident a lot
I’m just gonna keep touchin’ shit
Till the sparkin’ stops
The lights are on, but nobody’s home
My cornbread ain’t done in the middle
But if dumb luck was a power tool
I’d be dangerous just a little
I ain’t got time to troubleshoot
But I can fake most things with
A piece of paper, a damn good story, and a geetar
I’m just gonna keep touchin’ shit
Till the sparkin’ stops.