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“One Has My Name (The Other Has My Heart)” – Jerry Lee Lewis

Jerry Lee Lewis - Wikipedia, a enciclopedia libre

About the Song

Jerry Lee Lewis, the “Killer,” is a legendary figure in the history of rock and roll. His energetic performances and rebellious attitude made him a cultural icon. One of his most enduring hits is “One Has My Name (The Other Has My Heart)”, a poignant song about the complexities of love and loyalty.

Released in 1961, “One Has My Name (The Other Has My Heart)” showcases Lewis’s signature style, blending rockabilly, country, and gospel influences. The song’s driving rhythm and Lewis’s powerful vocals create a sense of urgency and longing. The lyrics tell the story of a man torn between two women: one who carries his name (presumably his wife) and another who holds his heart. This emotional conflict is a relatable theme that has resonated with audiences for decades.

The song’s chorus is particularly memorable: “One has my name, the other has my heart. I’m caught in between, can’t tear them apart. I love them both, it’s plain to see. But only one can be the one for me.” Lewis’s delivery is raw and emotional, conveying the pain and confusion of his character’s situation.

Beyond its musical appeal, “One Has My Name (The Other Has My Heart)” is also notable for its lyrical depth. The song explores the complexities of love, loyalty, and the human condition. Lewis’s ability to convey these emotions through his music is a testament to his artistry.

If you’re a fan of Jerry Lee Lewis or classic rock and roll, “One Has My Name (The Other Has My Heart)” is a must-listen. Its catchy melody, powerful vocals, and relatable lyrics make it a timeless piece of music that continues to captivate audiences today.Jerry Lee Lewis has died at age 87 |

Video 

Lyrics: One Has My Name (The Other Has My Heart)

One has my name, and the other has my heart
With one I’ll remain, that’s how my heartaches start
One has brown eyes, the other’s eyes are blue
To one I am tied, to the other I am trueOne has my love, and the other only me
But what, good is love, to an old heart that can’t be free
So I’ll go on living, my life just the same
While one has my heart, the other has my name”Ah,one has my name, the other has my heart
With one I’ll remain, ah that’s how my old heartaches start
You know ones got brown eyes, and the other’s eyes are blue
To one I am tied, to the other I guess I’ll have to be true”One that has my love, and the other only me
But what good is love, to a heart that can’t be free
If I could live over, my life I would change
The one who has my heart, also would have my name

 

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HIS FATHER TOLD HIM TO PUT DOWN THE GUITAR. NASHVILLE FORGOT HIM. TWICE. HE CAME BACK IN A WHEELCHAIR AND STILL WOULDN’T SHUT UP. Vern Gosdin grew up hauling rocks and chopping cotton in Woodland, Alabama. His father tried music once, failed, and forbade his son from ever touching a guitar. Vern left home and never looked back — never saw his father again. He moved to California. Then Chicago. Then Nashville. Two record labels went bankrupt under him. Nobody called. Nobody came looking. So he quit, moved to Georgia, and sold glass for a living. But he kept a guitar in his truck. In the late ’70s, he crawled back to Nashville — older, broker, and angrier than every pretty boy on country radio. He didn’t sound trendy. He sounded like a man who’d been through hell and could prove it. Then he wrote “Chiseled in Stone” and beat every superstar in town for CMA Song of the Year. Tammy Wynette called him “the only singer who can hold a candle to George Jones.” In 1998, a stroke stole his voice. He kept writing from a wheelchair. 101 songs. Still fighting. They called him “The Voice.” Nashville called him too late. Does knowing how many times Vern Gosdin had to start over make “Chiseled in Stone” hit even harder now?

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THEY LOOKED LIKE FOUR OUTLAWS WHO COULD OUTRUN TIME ITSELF. BUT WHEN YOU WATCH THE HIGHWAYMEN SING “BIG RIVER” TODAY, THE EMPTY MICROPHONES BREAK YOUR HEART. Onstage, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Kris Kristofferson, and Willie Nelson looked untouchable. Four weathered men, four different wounds, four voices that made country music sound dangerous, honest, and free. When they traded verses on Cash’s “Big River,” it wasn’t just another performance. It was four old brothers chasing the same song down the same river, each one carrying a piece of the road in his voice. Cash brought the thunder. Waylon brought the grit. Kris brought the broken-poet soul. Willie floated above it all with that calm, aching grace only he could carry. Back then, the stage lights made it easy to believe they would always be there. That was the beautiful lie of watching legends stand side by side. But time does what no outlaw ever could: it catches everyone. Today, Cash is gone. Waylon is gone. Kris has crossed the river too. Willie is the only one left, still playing, still standing, still carrying a brotherhood that can never fully gather again. That is why “Big River” feels different now. It is no longer just a song about chasing something you cannot hold. It feels like time itself moving past four men we were not ready to lose. The song remains. But three microphones are empty. Does “Big River” feel heavier now that Willie is the only one left to sing it?

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