1. |
Howlin' at the Moon
03:16
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howlin’ at the moon
all my strings are danglin’ down
like a marionette’d clown
and if your friends don’t dance, and if they don’t dance
then please don’t bring ‘em around
oh baby, don’t bring me down
and you know my dog barks, from his chest, babe
every midnight, by the moon, by the moon
and you know my heart breaks, in my chest, babe
every time i hear that tune
i’m always howlin’ at the moon
and it’s a fingernail polish town
and there’s a dandelion in my crown
and in the wee small hours
why have all the flowers
gone into the underground?
been up so long it looks like down
and you know my dog barks …
and you’s a no-good bartend’ clown
at the crossroads, sinkin’ down’
if it’s yer soul you’re tradin’, ya better hope satan
like that high, lonesome sound
prayin’ on the ol’ campground
and you know my dog barks …
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2. |
Hesitation Blues
07:15
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3. |
High Hopes
02:21
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High Hopes
get my backpack rucksack
down to the train track
poppin’ like a tic tac
choppin’ like a lumberjack
baby, i’ll catch the katy
don’t need no mule to ride, I mean
don’t need no mule to ride
mi soy hobo
corro con lobo
everywhere that i go
signs out the window
No Trespassing, got me laughing
cuz this is all for you and me, I mean
this land was made for you and me
We got high hopes
pie in the sky hopes
walkin’ a tightrope
like children on jump ropes
countin’ out 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 high hopes
motorcycle zen, man
cigar-store Indian
drunkard, and a citizen
bringin’ it all back home again
maybe, baby
i’ll have you for me, I mean
maybe baby, I’ll have you
I got high hopes …
On a thumb and a prayer, man
we been everywhere, man
from cali to connecticut
prevailing on the etiquette
of candles, in the windows
and when the wind blows
we’ll be dust in the wind
all we are is dust in the wind
but we got high hopes
pie in the sky hopes
walkin’ a tightrope
like children on jump ropes
countin’ out 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 high hopes
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4. |
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5. |
Hong Kong Blues
03:02
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6. |
Hot Plate Kitchen
03:50
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Hot plate kitchen
I don’t need much to be happy
Just you actin’ in my play
So’s to strengthen the walls
That i been buildin in the way
In the way of the widening roads
Leading off into the gray
Lord, it’s powerful hard
Just to make it through an ordinary day
But a little bit of dreamin, don’t hurt a body much
I ain’t got no money, honey, but, listen up …
I got a hot plate kitchen, and a candle chandelier
And a dormitory fridge, full of champagne beer
We’ll have a little space heater, and a radio tv
And a sleepin’ bag blanket over you and me
Everybody’s worried bout the same thing
But there’s very little difference how we fail
A poor man dies just a little bit
While a rich man does it on a much bigger scale
But a little bit of dreaming …
Lady Day, Annie Mae, get your gun, Annie run
Girl, you’re every woman in the world
Oh, Raggedy Ann, lend a hand, like Caledonia can
Girl, you’re every woman in the world, to me
I was born to a purpose
Higher than what I could do
See now, I was not just driftin’
I was waiting for you
But a little bit of dreaming ...
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7. |
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howl
there's a scandal brewin' and the cat's out the bag
and that flash undertaker's on a cryin' jag
he was last seen at the tailor stuffin' garments in a bag
but there are some things you can't fix, not even with a flag
i say howl, goddamit howl
the bed bugs are bitin' and the rats are crazed
i seen polly wolly doodle walkin' round in a daze
with a magnifying glass blindly aimin' the rays
but the weatherman said it's been rainin' for days
i say howl, goddamit howl, goddamit howl
i been havin' jabberwocky dreams
where everything wrong still feels like it seems
and i can’t see the casket
but i can hear the screams of the trowel
i can fool all for some and fool some for all
but all the king's horses can't return me to the wall
now all i can do is lie in the hall and howl
goddamit howl, goddamit howl
the banisters end before they reach the ground
and i know that ol' scatman is lurkin around
he's probably clamorin' for the cook to throw some railroad down
he cuts a hole in the bread to keep the eggs around
i say howl, goddamit howl
well, the sins of this past are long and forgotten now
the undertaker went to cleveland, he's a tailor now
and polly wolly doodle laid ol' scatman down
and forecasted his weather 'til his rain came down
i say howl, goddamit howl, goddamit howl
i been havin' jabberwocky dreams ...
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8. |
Six White Horses
03:09
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Six White Horses
i met yer mama in the holler
and she read me some scripture
i met yer papa in the draw
and he painted my picture
i met yer sister on the levee
and she gave me a quarter
i met yer brother on the nickel
and he gave me another
and i’ll take my fifty cents
and you know that i ain’t scared of ya
and i’ll walk that ribbon highway
to the old, weird, america
i met yer grandma at the ‘state sale
and she found my button
i met yer grandpa sittin’ down
we didn’t stand fer nuttin’
i met yer uncle at the crossbuck
but he weren’t no doctor
i met yer auntie on the belt line
and i asked for water
and i’ll take my drink of water
and you know that i ain’t scared of ya
and i’ll walk that ribbon highway
to the old, weird, america
and we’ll be comin’ down the mountain when we come
and we’ll be fishin’ in the fountain ‘til we’re done
we’ll be fishin’ in the fountain, it’s all over ‘cept the shoutin’
we’ll be comin’ down the mountain when we come
and we’ll be ridin’ six white horses
and you know that i ain’t scared of ya
and i’ll walk that ribbon highway
to the old, weird, america
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9. |
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10. |
She's in the Fog
04:49
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She’s In The Fog
From sun to sun, her shadow cast,
she’ll be the first one, to be the last
she’s in the fog, up in the saddle, tryin’ to ride her horse back home
Her hair is pepper-gray, her eyes are river-blue
her face is very old, the scar is very new
she’s in the fog, up in the saddle, tryin’ to ride her horse back home
well, bless her heart, and bless her soul
and bless her rock, and bless her roll
she’s in the fog, she’s on the roam
honey findin’ home sweet home
Like a deck, that lacks a suit
no one to walk a mile in her boots
she’s in the fog, up in the saddle,tryin’ to ride her horse back home
With empty saddle bags, her weary body rides
her country tells the truth, ‘bout how her city lies
she’s in the fog, up in the saddle, tryin’ to ride her horse back home
well, bless her heart, and bless her soul ...
White line on her neck, where once there hung a chain
the sun been fillin’ in what little light remains
she’s in the fog, up in the saddle, tryin’ to ride her horse back home
My candle guttered out, without a sound
she’s through the pass now, and comin’ down
she’s in the fog, up in the saddle, tryin’ to ride her horse back home
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11. |
St. James Infirmary
06:25
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12. |
Sugar Babe
03:15
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13. |
Suicide Blues
04:45
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The Westside Sheiks California
Taking as their spiritual forefolk the sounds of Leroy Carr and Scrapper Blackwell, The Mississippi Sheiks, and the quixotic melodics of The Old Weird America, The Westside Sheiks combine piano and national resophonic to create a cantankerously swinging sound that can bounce from the playfully percolating to the melodically maudlin, and from the raw and raggy to the gleefully grinding. ... more
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