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I sent this off in the spring of 2000 as a single to various radio stations in Oregon and Washington convinced that it would become a great hit on the twentieth anniversary of that spectacular eruption of Mount St. Helens.  Knowing more now about the effects of the eruption than I did then, I’ve decided that the song was too flip even after two decades had passed.  I don’t think it got much air-play. 
 I got some great bluegrass help on this song as well.  (See the reference to Lynn Morris and Ron Stewart under “Ramblin’ Man.”)  Oh, to be able to play a solo break as Ron Stewart did!!
 ©  1999  Steven E. Cutts  (ASCAP)
recorded on March 6, 2000 at Bias Studios (recorded and mixed by Jim Robeson)
on All Alone . . . But Hardly On My Own  
<ul>
<li>Steve,  acoustic guitar & lead vocal </li>
<li>Robert Bartley, harmony vocal   </li>
<li>John Lewis, electric bass </li>
<li>Lynn Morris, banjo </li>
<li>Ron Stewart, fiddle, mandolin, & acoustic guitar  (solo)</li>
</ul>

Lyrics

One morning in May Mount St. Helens blew her top!
One morning in May  - - there wasn’t any way to stop
What that mountain was going to do;  the mud and the rocks, they flew & flew
And covered the ground for miles around, one morning in May.
 
When you looked up at that mountain, it was a beautiful sight to see : 
A peaceful snow-capped peak -- lush green slopes -- what scenery!
As you gazed at that gorgeous view, what you probably did not know
Was  that  deep inside  Mount  St.  Helens  was  a  sleeping   volcano.
 
That Sunday morning started out as quiet as it could be;
But the mountain began to rumble;  shook the birds right out of the trees.
Then it gave a mighty blast that people heard far and wide 
And the whole top of that mountain went a-tumblin’ down the side.
 
The avalanche filled up the lakes; landmarks disappeared.
Trees fell down like matchsticks; the blast chased away the deer.
A plume of smoke rose up and up sixteen miles in height
And the ash that flew out of the air turned the daytime into night.
 
Nature’s started slowly to reclaim the mountainside :
The melting snows have cut new streams; the elk are back; the hawks fly high;
And seedlings stretch their limbs, so the woods may be restored.
But the mountain’s merely marking time ‘til it blows apart once more!

The Prime Cutts

Lyrics