REO Speedwagon to stop touring after 2024

About the Song

Among the iconic rock anthems of the late 70s, REO Speedwagon’s “Time for Me to Fly” soars with a message of liberation and self-discovery. This 1978 hit, from their album You Can Tune a Piano, But You Can’t Tuna Fish, resonates with anyone who has ever yearned to break free from constraints and chase their dreams.

“Time for Me to Fly” opens with a powerful guitar riff, setting the stage for a song that is both introspective and empowering. Kevin Cronin’s vocals, conveying a mix of frustration and determination, paint a picture of someone who has reached a turning point. The lyrics speak of swallowing pride, living a lie, and a desperate need for relief. It’s a relatable sentiment, the yearning to break free from a situation that no longer serves you.

As the chorus explodes with the line, “It’s time for me to fly, gotta spread my wings and learn to fly”, the song takes on a triumphant tone. The soaring melody and driving rhythm become a sonic representation of breaking free from limitations and taking charge of one’s destiny. The lyrics become a rallying cry for anyone who has ever felt trapped, urging them to take a leap of faith and pursue their aspirations.

“Time for Me to Fly” is not just about physical freedom; it’s also about emotional liberation. It delves into the complexities of personal growth, the courage it takes to break free from unhealthy patterns, and the exhilarating feeling of finally taking control of your life. The song celebrates the power of self-belief and the potential that lies within each of us to reach new heights.

Beyond the emotional resonance, “Time for Me to Fly” is a prime example of REO Speedwagon’s signature sound. The tight harmonies, Gary Richrath’s soaring guitar solos, and Cronin’s soulful vocals come together to create a powerful and enduring rock anthem. The song’s energy is infectious, leaving the listener feeling inspired and motivated to pursue their own dreams.

“Time for Me to Fly” remains a cornerstone of classic rock radio and continues to resonate with audiences of all ages. It’s a timeless reminder that it’s never too late to spread your wings and take flight, to break free from the things that hold you back and soar towards a brighter future.REO Speedwagon Reacts to Unexpected 'Bohemian Rhapsody' Movie Shoutout

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Lyrics: Time for Me to Fly

I’ve been around for you
I’ve been up and down for you
But I just can’t get any relief
I’ve swallowed my pride for you
I’ve lived and lied for you
But you still make me feel like a thief
You got me stealin’ your love away
‘Cause you never give it
Peeling the years away
And we can’t relive it
I make you laugh
And you make me cry
I believe it’s time for me to flyYou said we’d work it out
You said that you had no doubt
That deep down we were really in love
Oh, but I’m tired of holding on
To a feeling I know is gone
I do believe that I’ve had enoughI’ve had enough of the falseness
Of a worn out relation
Enough of the jealousy
And the intoleration
I make you laugh
And you make me cry
I believe it’s time for me to fly[Refrain:]
Time for me to fly
Oh, I’ve got to set myself free
Time for me to fly
And that’s just how it’s got to be
I know it hurts to say goodbye
But it’s time for me to flyOh, don’t you know it’s…
[Refrain]It’s time for me to fly
[Repeat to end]

You Missed

HE WROTE THESE WORDS AS A LIGHTHEARTED TRIBUTE TO A FRIEND — BUT NO ONE KNEW IT WOULD BECOME THE ANTHEM OF HIS FINAL BATTLE. Back in 2017, during a charity golf event at Pebble Beach, Toby Keith found himself sharing a cart with the legendary Clint Eastwood. Clint was nearing his 88th birthday, yet he was still working, still directing, and still full of life. Toby, curious about how the Hollywood icon stayed so sharp, asked for his secret. Clint’s answer was simple but profound: “I just don’t let the old man in.” Toby was so moved by that philosophy that he went straight home and turned those words into a song. When he recorded the first demo, Toby actually had a bad cold. His voice was unusually gravelly, tired, and raw. Clint heard that “imperfect” version and insisted it stay exactly that way for his 2018 movie, The Mule. Back then, it was just a quiet, soulful track that most of the world barely noticed. Everything changed in 2021 when Toby received his stomach cancer diagnosis. Suddenly, the song he wrote for Clint became the story of his own life. Those lyrics were no longer just a tribute—they became a daily prayer for strength. The world finally felt the true weight of that song in September 2023. Toby stepped onto the People’s Choice Country Awards stage to accept the Icon Award. He was visibly thinner, and his hands trembled slightly, but his spirit was unbroken. He joked about his “skinny jeans,” then he began to sing. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Overnight, a song from five years prior surged to the top of the charts. After playing his final trio of shows in Las Vegas that December, Toby peacefully passed away on February 5, 2024, at age 62. Clint Eastwood later shared a photo of them together, a final salute to his friend. Time eventually catches up to everyone, but Toby Keith showed us all how to face it with dignity, courage, and a guitar in hand. Do you remember the title of this final, powerful masterpiece by Toby Keith?

HE WAS 70, STRUGGLING TO STAND, AND THE INDUSTRY HAD ALREADY WRITTEN HIM OFF — UNTIL HE COVERED A TRACK BY A ROCK STAR HALF HIS AGE AND BROKE THE WORLD’S HEART. By 2002, Johnny Cash was a man surviving on memories. He had outlived most of his peers. His record label of nearly three decades had abandoned him. His health was a wreckage of diabetes, pneumonia, and failing nerves. There were moments in the recording booth when his producer, Rick Rubin, could hear the literal sound of a voice breaking. Then Rubin presented him with a raw, industrial rock song about the depths of depression and self-harm. Cash made one simple change — replacing a profane lyric with “crown of thorns” — and transformed a young man’s angst into his own final testament. The music video was shot inside his shuttered museum in Nashville, a place crumbling under the weight of dust and silence. June Carter was there, looking at him with an expression of profound, tragic realization. She would be gone in three months. He would follow her just four months later. When the original songwriter finally saw the footage alone one morning, he broke down. He later admitted that the song no longer belonged to him. The video went on to win a Grammy and was hailed by critics as the greatest music video ever filmed. It has been streamed hundreds of millions of times since. But its true power isn’t in the numbers or the awards. It continues to haunt us two decades later because it is the sound of a man who has stopped running from the end — a man who sat down in the fading light and finally told the absolute truth.

NO ONE KNEW WHY TOBY KEITH KEPT VISITING THE OK KIDS KORRAL EVERY WEEK DURING HIS FINAL 2 YEARS — EVEN AS HIS OWN CANCER WAS TAKING OVER… UNTIL A NURSE FINALLY TOLD THE TRUTH In 2006, Toby Keith launched a foundation for children battling cancer, inspired by the loss of his lead guitarist’s 2-year-old daughter to a tumor in 2003. By 2014, he turned that vision into reality, opening the OK Kids Korral in Oklahoma City—a sanctuary where families of pediatric patients could stay for free. Then, in 2021, the world stopped when Toby was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Yet, instead of retreating into his own pain, Toby began appearing at the Korral every week. He wasn’t there to sign autographs or put on a show. He would simply stand in the quiet hallways, watching the children go about their days. Outsiders assumed he was inspecting the building. The staff figured he was there to lift spirits. But following Toby’s passing in February 2024, a veteran nurse finally shared what really happened. She had asked him why he pushed himself to come when he was so exhausted. Toby leaned heavily against the wall and whispered: “These kids showed me how to be a warrior long before I ever had to fight for my own life. I’m just here to pay my respects—while time still allows.” The world believed Toby Keith built the Korral to rescue those children. In reality, it was those children who were quietly holding him together at the end. What remained a secret until his very last visit—just 11 days before he slipped away—was how Toby stopped in front of a single name on the memorial wall: the little girl whose story began it all two decades earlier. He stood there in total silence, longer than anyone had ever seen him stay in one place.