It didn't seem long before the national epidemic of drug overdoses filling news headlines came to our town with a name and a face, and a family and community were left grieving and angry by needless loss and a life taken from us too soon. And then it happened again... and again... and again... all within 4 months. And these are just the ones I know. And these are just the ones who died. Drug addiction continues to steal from us the lives of the ones we love by leaving them a husk, a shadow of the brothers and friends we once knew. Some find help and long-term recovery. Some seem stuck in an ugly, guilt-ridden cycle of addiction and sobriety with promises that last only as long as an empty wallet or the "good graces" of a dealer. Some part of me wishes that drug use and abuse DID discriminate, but it doesn't. Wow. It doesn't. You're as likely to find it in the alleys as you are in the clubhouse and everywhere in between. Young, old, all races, cultures and creeds, from the church house to the tap house. You know. And you have you're own stories as well of those who've been touched by addiction and lured by drug's sideways promise of peace, pleasure, and escape. One of those stories is my own. Raised in the church to a middle class family whose parents are married to this day - They always asked where I was going, who was going to be there, and what we were doing! - mostly A's and some B's, Boy Scout, school sports, I was an 11/12 year old longing to fit in with and be liked by some of the older boys in my circle. I wanted to be like them. That was all the invitation I needed to start experimenting with alcohol and substances. It was a dangerous path I walked, and I was heedless of the consequences. I can only imagine how my story would be different today had I continued on this path into college. As it stands, well, I was 16, and Jesus saved me, corny as that sounds. What I once tried so hard to find in the acceptance and approval of my peers, I began to find through a growing faith and the community therein. There's more to the story, but suffice it to say that it was then where I made some of the first commitments to be the kind of influence, especially on my younger peers, that encouraged a better way, that spoke to them words of strength and hope and a future. In many respects, I know that same purpose continues to this day to drive who I am, what I do, and how I do it. This song, That's a Lie, written with friend of mine Lynne O'Quinn, is born from that desire and fueled by the recent, personal, heart-breaking deaths of young people in our community here in Fayetteville, NC. We've got to do something. Each of us has to do something, to say something, to be something. This song is a start for us, but certainly not the end. We hope this song will be used to start conversations - across kitchen tables, from pulpits, and in schools, and everywhere concerned people gather - conversations that lead to changed lives, fewer deaths, and fewer kids and teens starting down the same road I did. That's a Lie by Giles Blankenship and Lynne O'Quinn He’s just a boy and loved by his friends Works hard in school, plays hard to win But home is a mess and dad’s left his mark Sometimes the mem’ries are worse than the scars Just a fix, just a five, just a hit, just a line Have some fun while you’re young It won’t hurt you this time But that’s a Lie She’s just a girl and longs to fit in But you’d never know the way she pretends Life of the party, Homecoming queen She’s got it all, all’s not what it seems Just a fix, just a five, just a hit, just a line Have some fun while you’re young It won’t hurt you this time But that’s a Lie So much promise, so much hope, So many dreams ahead But we’d give it all for escape at best And a mockery of peace instead So let me shoot straight my friend Just a fix, just a five, just a hit, just a line Have some fun while you’re young It won’t hurt you this time But that’s a Lie