Kitty Wells - Cowboys and Indians Magazine

About the Song

“Making Believe” by Kitty Wells is a classic country song from 1955 that tells the story of a heartbroken woman. Here’s a breakdown of the song’s themes:

Heartbreak and Denial: The lyrics paint a picture of a woman clinging to the memory of a love that’s gone. She “makes believe” that her lover still loves her, even though she knows it’s not true. This denial is a common coping mechanism for dealing with heartbreak.

Lost Dreams and Unfulfilled Plans: The song talks about “plans for the future” that will never come true. This highlights the sense of loss and disappointment that accompanies a broken relationship.

Yearning and Longing: Despite the heartbreak, the woman can’t stop loving her ex. The lyrics “Spending my lifetime loving you, making believe” express a deep longing and a wish for things to be different.

The Power of Imagination: “Making Believe” shows how imagination can be a double-edged sword. While it offers solace by creating a fantasy world, it can also hinder the healing process by delaying acceptance of reality.

Here are some additional details that might pique your interest:

  • Kitty Wells: Often referred to as the “Queen of Country Music,” Wells was a pioneer for female artists in the genre. “Making Believe” was one of her biggest hits.
  • Musical Style: The song is a classic country ballad with a simple melody and a focus on storytelling. The steel guitar adds a melancholic touch.
  • Cultural Impact: “Making Believe” resonated with many listeners who had experienced heartbreak. It helped solidify country music’s ability to express emotional vulnerability.

Why Kitty Wells Matters - Gwarlingo

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Lyrics: Making Believe 

Making believe that you still love me
It’s leavin’ me alone and so blue
But I’ll always dream still I’ll never own you
Making believe it’s all I can doCan’t hold you close when you’re not with me
You’re somebody’s love you’ll never be mine
Making believe I’ll spend my lifetime
Loving you and making believe

Making believe that I never lost you
But my happy hours I find are so few
My plans for the future will never come true
Making believe what else can I do

Can’t hold you close when you’re not with me
You’re somebody’s love you’ll never be mine
Making believe I’ll spend my lifetime
Loving you and making believe

You Missed

“I CAN’T JUST LEAVE HER WITHOUT TELLING HER HOW IT IS,” RAY PRICE WHISPERED TO HIS ENGINEER IN THE STUDIO DARKNESS. He didn’t care about the chart positions or the industry accolades that had defined his career since the fifties. He needed the technology to capture a sincerity he had spent decades hiding behind the polish of the Ray Price Sound, ensuring the silence of his house wouldn’t be absolute. Ray Price and Janie Phillips shared a life defined by the rhythmic hum of the honky-tonk circuit and the quiet machinery of the music business. By 2012, however, the terminal weight of pancreatic cancer began to dictate the pace of their days. While the chemotherapy drained the vitality from his frame, Ray insisted on returning to the microphone. He chose a collection of love songs that felt like a long-overdue confession, building them out in a Nashville studio while keeping the project shielded from the one person who had been his professional and personal anchor for decades. Janie was kept at a distance, unaware that the distance was intentional. Ray was crafting a final, hidden correspondence. Each session at the microphone required a monumental effort, a man straining against his own biology to ensure the pitch remained true and the phrasing stayed sharp. He finished the work in October 2013, exhausted but satisfied, calling the record the finest thing he had ever managed to capture. He died in December, before the world ever heard a note. When the record eventually surfaced, Janie found herself standing in the spotlight she had spent forty-three years avoiding. She stepped into the radio stations and the silence of their home, carrying the voice of a man who had finally learned how to say what mattered most once he was no longer there to speak it himself.