End Of The Road

THESE ROADS GO NOWHERE  © 2020 Grant Olsen

Up the mountains on the coast where the treeline meets the snow
The mother lode is waiting to be made
Many men before went out looking for that ore
Freedom’s lustre never seems to fade

I got trouble in my mind, gold fever and snowblind
I’ll bite the dust looking for a seam
These canyon walls for blinders, where keepers may be finders
These roads go nowhere but to dream

Whitehorse Johnny came this way, I guess looking for a claim
Never found the yellow but he tried
Saw his footprints on the track going forward, never back
Never took his ghost with him when he died

I got trouble in my mind, gold fever and snowblind
I’ll bite the dust looking for a seam
These canyon walls for blinders, where keepers may be finders
These roads go nowhere but to dream

Had a vision on the trail, a snake that ate its tail
Vanished right there without a trace
These roads go round and round, some go up and some go down
And ne’er a one to take me from this place

I got trouble in my mind, gold fever and snowblind
I’ll bite the dust looking for a seam
These canyon walls for blinders, where keepers may be finders
These roads go nowhere but to dream

THE DAY I MET MY LOVE © 2020 Grant Olsen

 

AGENTS OF THE WIND © 2020 Grant Olsen

Rhodo-honeysuckle afternoon
Spring-fed stream carries away our gloom
Winter’s over, but it never knows it
‘til the Stanfields wind up at the bottom of the drawer

Dogs laze misty-eyed in sun-glazed early skies
Bees graze lowly on the heather in the yard
I feel a moment when time stands frozen
‘til the sun trickles in and melts it all away

I think of all the time I spent with lowing ears and posture bent
On a screen that screams in blocks and text
And a heart that breaks my bones

Falling, we become the agents of the wind
That blushing on the vine doesn’t care about your woe

You and I drop our heads, propped up like rag dolls in tomato cages
Laden with the fruits of our work
And I too must lean like this, tied to my cowardice
For all the things I could have said and done to make it right

I think of all the time I spent with lowing ears and posture bent
On a screen that screams in blocks and text
And a heart that breaks my bones

Falling, we become the agents of the wind
That burst on the vine doesn’t care about your
Rhodo-honeysuckle afternoon
Spring-fed stream carries away our gloom
Winter’s over, but it never knows it
‘til the Stanfields wind up at the bottom of the drawer

HAPPENS TO EVERYONE © 2020 Grant Olsen

My baby sat me down one sad day
She said seeing other people might be fun
But we could maybe still get together
I guess that happens to everyone

I walked home so low I nearly stumbled on myself
The clouds in the sky weighed a tonne
My heart so heavy it dropped down in a hole
I guess that happens to everyone

Oh they say it can happen any day
Try to wake up and you slip away
Once in a while we could get together
I guess that happens to everyone

My baby sat me down one sad day
She said seeing other people might be fun
I don’t know why I found that a surprise
I guess that happens to everyone
I guess that happens to everyone

WHISKEY AND TAP WATER © 2020 Grant Olsen

Whiskey and tap water at Edgar’s bar at the far end of the road
Paper cups and pickles in a jar at the far end of the road

The bartender drinks and the manager puffs with the patrons round the bar
Old man Edgar’s happy as can be he’s got anyone to work there at all
Whiskey and tap water at Edgar’s bar at the far end of the road
Paper cups and pickles in a jar at the far end of the road

The cops don’t know about this serpent of a road and they turn around at the bay
And you’re free to live with your junk lying ‘round and you sleep all through the day
Whiskey and tap water at Edgar’s bar at the far end of the road
Paper cups and pickles in a jar at the far end of the road

Old Mike Jake’s lived there 40 years with his little brother Dominique
And they never found a way to take out the trash or to fix all them broken things
Whiskey and tap water at Edgar’s bar at the far end of the road
Paper cups and pickles in a jar at the far end of the road

Over by the lake up the shining hill you’ll find their barricade
They hide from my eyes below their fall-down hovel but their dog always gives them away
Whiskey and tap water at Edgar’s bar at the far end of the road
Paper cups and pickles in a jar at the far end of the road

Their sister in the city’s trying to sue their asses and get them off her property
But a hundred dump runs and a bin and a crane would never get that acreage clean
Whiskey and tap water at Edgar’s bar at the far end of the road
Paper cups and pickles in a jar at the far end of the road

I sang them songs of freedom and love and I saw not a single friend
But it’s they who are so much freer than me for I come from the bitter end
Whiskey and tap water at Edgar’s bar at the far end of the road
Paper cups and pickles in a jar at the far end of the road

SANCTUARY © 2020 Grant Olsen

I’ve got sunshine
I’ve got rain
Somewhere in my pocket
Somewhere in the vein, she said
Son come on up to the table
Son get up off the floor
Can’t you hear they’re stamping their feet now
Cold outside the door, oh yeah

Saw a man out on the sidewalk today
Curled up in his camp 
Tent city wrapped around the block
Invaded by the political tramp
Oh Lord, can’t you see outside
There’s a lot of suffering? 
Oh tell me what can I do about it?
Come inside I’ll show you a thing

(Sanctuary)
Where love goes around
(Sanctuary)
Where there’s still love to go around

Even in the dregs in the back alley gravel there’s still love to go a- round
(Sanctuary)
In the shadow of the local rose you know there’s still love to go a round, oh yeah

Save, save, save, save me, sanctuary

DAYDRINKING © 2020 Grant Olsen

Toes tipped together, arms outstretched waving
Pinwheeling, weaving in the warm April sun
The cityscape goes by in a kaleidoscope of light
So why should I keep from dancing?

All you stuffed suits can stuff it, eat your curds Miss Muffet
I ain’t no puppet and I’m out on the town
Time is just for madmen dangling their neckties
In trailers in the sky where there’s no dancing

I take off my hat and my hair is a-waving
The confidence you lack has yours pressed down to your head
I take off my hat, I don’t fix my hair or nothing
Are you confident you ask, or just depressed?

I’m a fool for having feet and for walking on the railing
Wishing I was sailing on the False Creek below
But I’m more alive in mine than you in your oblivion
So why should I keep from dancing?

I take off my hat and my hair is a-waving
The confidence you lack has yours pressed down to your head
I take off my hat, I don’t fix my hair or nothing
Are you confident you ask, or just depressed?
I take off my coat and my shirt is missing buttons
I like to be free from all restraint
You look at me funny as I’m bleeding on the sidewalk
But why should I keep from dancing?

Oh why should I keep from dancing?

GOING WEST © 2020 Grant Olsen

Please don’t go she cried out to her husband going west
Please don’t leave the substance and the shadow for the cliff
I beg of you to think about your family and your home
I beg you not to leave us alone
The answer was not happy news not what she hoped to hear
I’m driven by a spirit that isn’t harmed by fear
And there’s nothing left for me to take waiting over here
I’ve got to explore the horizon

Once was a time when you and I united
Spirit and matter, uncovered and ignited
We’re one and the same
Though we try to change the other

Once was a time when you and I united
Spirit and matter, uncovered and ignited
We’re one and the same
Though wonder we try to change the other

Please don’t go she cried out to her husband as he left
I just can’t bear the thought of living in my head
Oh why can’t you see I’m not like you though 
But you are a lot like me

Once was a time when you and I united
Spirit and matter, uncovered and ignited
we’re one and the same
Though we try to change the other

SISTER THE MOON © 2020 Grant Olsen

Every time I’m walking in the daylight
I see the sunshine in his eyes
And every time I’m walking after twilight
I see the moon shine in her eyes

Hey my brother and sister the moon
Hey my brother and sister the moon

The sunshine brings the bodies to the beach
Friend and foe walking side by each
The pulling and the drawing of the tide
That sweet and subtle moon is on the rise

Hey my brother and sister the moon
Hey my brother and sister the moon
Hey my brother and sister the moon
Hey my brother and sister the moon

Every time I’m walking down the street
I see it in the faces of the people that I meet
And way, way down in the womb
How does it do it, the light of the moon?

Hey my brother and sister the moon
Hey my brother and sister the moon
Hey my brother and sister the moon
Hey my brother and sister the moon

POOR MICHAEL-JOHN © 2020 Grant Olsen

Poor Michael-John put down that axe
Quit swinging it round your head and try to relax
Poor Michael-John before someone gets hurt
Please stop being a jerk

End of the night and he finished his shift
Took to the drink bold and swift
Staff discount and he paid his dime
Bartender poured him eight or nine

Poor Michael-John put down that axe
Quit swinging it round your head and try to relax
Poor Michael-John before someone gets hurt
Please stop being a jerk

When he downed his last glass he landed on his ass
And the bartender cut him off
So he went to his truck, grabbed an axe and a maul
That’s when things started getting rough

Poor Michael-John put down that axe
Quit swinging it round your head and try to relax
Poor Michael-John before someone gets hurt
Please stop being a jerk

Fifty grand in damage to that lousy dive
Fifty grand in damage, what a surprise
A chair through the window ain’t worth that much
Must have been all the booze on the shelf

Poor Michael-John put down that axe
Quit swinging it round your head and try to relax
Poor Michael-John before someone gets hurt
Please stop being a jerk

I read it in the papers, I read it on the webs
I still can’t get it out of my head
You people who can’t handle booze I guess
You people, you leave a mess

Poor Michael-John put down that axe
Quit swinging it round your head and try to relax
Poor Michael-John before someone gets hurt
Please stop being a jerk

Poor Michael-John put down that axe
Quit swinging it round your head and try to relax
Poor Michael-John before someone gets hurt
Please stop being a jerk

Please stop being a jerk

FALL AWAKE © 2020 Grant Olsen

Sleepwalking shadows yawn cross the meadows
Fast awake and wide asleep
Trouble in the bubble hurry on the double
No longer in our brother’s keep

Fall awake I’ll overtake and
Finally give these blues a shake
Fall awake I’ll compensate no more

The absence of our pain is good
But the lack of good it ain’t so bad
Right is measured against a wrong
Well what if there were no wrongs to be had?

Fall awake I’ll overtake and
Finally give these blues a shake
Fall awake I’ll compensate no more

A death bed scene and his loved ones lean
Close to his ear so they can hear him for
All is allowed and allowable
Something he never said before

Fall awake I’ll overtake and
Finally give these blues a shake
Fall awake I’ll compensate no more
Fall awake I’ll overtake and
Finally give these blues a shake
Fall awake I’ll compensate no more

LOSING MY HOME © 2020 Grant Olsen

On the first of May
She was molding clay
and I didn’t have the heart to tell her
My brains were a shakin’
and my hands was a full of my knees
By the first of July
l had something to hide
I learned how to juggle and sneeze
And I think I might be losing my home

Ain’t it funny how your fear and doubt
Can cloud a sun-filled room
And the lights at night they seem just a little too bright
A story’s book or a comic’s dream
Ain’t no way how it may seem
And I think I might be losing my home

All our conversations are well salted and well brought up
And all the constellations in the sky
Are raining down in a hit parade
Look out Jade before it fades
And I think I might be losing my home

All our conversations are well salted and well brought up
And all the constellations in the sky
Are raining down in a hit parade
Look out Jade before it fades
And I think I might be losing my home

A bird on its perch he was quiet at first
But then he sang like it was four in in the morn
It’s summertime and the windows are shut on the inside
I got up in my dream and was walking around
Sliced up an apple and sat myself down
And I think I might be losing my home

All our conversations are well salted and well brought up
And all the constellations in the sky
Are raining down in a hit parade
Look out Jade before it fades
And I think I might be losing my home

Are raining down in a hit parade
Look out Jade before it fades
And I think I might be losing my home

MECHANICS OF THE MOUNTAIN’S DREAM © 2020 Grant Olsen

I am the one who belongs to the mountain
I am the one you never see
I stand beside you on the trail or in the meadow
Mechanics of the mountain’s dream

I am the one who met them on the battlement
Old friends, long ago we embraced
I climbed up the face while the belts were rotating
And slipped off into the abyss

Here there be ghosts that wind through the mountains
On conveyors and pullies unseen
In your ears there’s a hum no one ever hears
Mechanics of the mountain’s dream

I am the one who watched her swim ashore
Nothing I could do but pull the lever
She climbed up the mountain and down the other side
Before anyone could save her

Here there be ghosts that wind through the mountains
On conveyors and pullies unseen
In your ears there’s a hum no one ever hears
Mechanics of the mountain’s dream
Here there be ghosts that wind through the mountains
On conveyors and pullies unseen
In your ears there’s a hum no one ever hears
Mechanics of the mountain’s dream

LARDY MCLARDY © 2020 Grant Olsen

Lardy McLardy was a hand-logger’s son in the weathers of the west coast bays
Grew up in the cabins floating on the booms, learned to play in the high rolling waves
Caught lots of fish and grew real strong, set out on a seiner to make his living
Had one sister younger than he, she slipped between logs to make her dyin’

On and on do the cycles go living and dying, laughing and crying
Head to head and toe to toe breathing and sighing staring blindly
Grounded but flying

Lardy McLardy quit the fish boat one day and headed down to Hastings to spend his pay
Kept a girl there she was like a tsunami, a stranger in a strange heart he left her down there

On and on do the cycles go living and dying, laughing and crying
Head to head and toe to toe breathing and sighing staring blindly
Grounded but flying

Lardy McLardy took a ticket to Malibu to log the ridges of the thousand waterfalls
The chipper turned him into human hamburger, the cook told jokes, nobody laughed

On and on do the cycles go living and dying, laughing and crying
Head to head and toe to toe breathing and sighing staring blindly
On and on do the cycles go living and dying, laughing and crying
Head to head and toe to toe breathing and sighing staring blindly
Grounded but flying

Broken Dams

BILLY MINER © 2018 Grant Olsen

Billy Miner was a train’ robbin’ man
First train robber in this land
First robber in this land with a pistol in his hand
Billy Miner was a train robbin’ man
(repeat last line)

Billy Miner and his partner Shorty Dunn
They lived by the barrel of a gun
By the barrel of a gun they coined the phrase “hands up!”
Hands was up until the robbing’s done
(repeat last line)

break

When they brought Billy Miner to the jail
For robbing a train at Silverdale
For a train at Silverdale, though a hero, he was assailed
For he challenged the hated CPRail
(repeat last line)

When they brought him to the old court house
He was kind he was civil at the mouth
He was civil at the mouth but me managed to break out
And start robbing them trains down south
(repeat last line)

break

Billy Miner was a train’ robbin’ man
First train robber in this land
First robber in this land with a pistol in his hand
Billy Miner was a train robbin’ man
(repeat last line)

WORKER’S LULLABY © 2018 Grant Olsen

Before the dawn, thermos full
Stretch that coffee, through the morning pull
Switching buses, changing trains
Rest down my head on the window pane

At the shop, punching down
Ten thousand widgets, market bound
Cuffed at the wrist, to save my hands
Sing a lullaby for the working man

Fifteen minutes, time for lunch
News and jokes with a hearty bunch
Then back to work, pounding steel
Razor sharp, on a bed of wheels

Then blows the horn, punch my time
Head for the station, stand in line
A basement waiting, stark and alone
For a weary master, coming home

Before the dawn, thermos full
Stretch that coffee, through the morning pull
Eyelids feel heavy, like bags of sand
Sing a lullaby for the working man

FIVE YEAR PLAN © 2018 Grant Olsen

I got tired o’ treeplanting
I needed a plan to get off the binge
Slept every night with my boots still on
Ready for a hungover crack of dawn
I came up with a five year plan
Move to Alberta work the sands
Scrape a little tar out of the dirt
Get me paid all I’m worth

And my brother he lives in Alberta
And he plays in a country music band
And he likes to play with my woman
And he likes to play with my five year plan

My five year plan it was really good
I thought about it hard working in the woods
Try to save up a hundred grand
Then back to BC to buy some land
I hit Fort Mac when I was 25
A burning hive still a child inside
My hourly rate was thirty-nine
I felt fine and ahead of my time

And the big man he lives in Alberta
And he’s always looking for a helping hand
And he likes to mess with my woman
And he likes to mess with my five year plan

Made some friends who could hook me up
I always find a way to spend a buck
At first it was free but it didn’t take long
The girls were hot and the dope was strong
Soon the only ones who were making any loot
Were the dealers and the prostitutes
They took my money and they took my soul
Now I’m stuck in Fort Mac and I’m growing old

And the devil he lives in Alberta
He deals just like a well-connected man
And he likes to fool with my woman
And he likes to fool with my five year plan
My five year plan

FELL IN LOVE © 2018 Grant Olsen

Fall In love
Get burned
Fall in love, get burned
I was thinking of her
She was thinking of me
Fell in love with her
Move on
She’s gone

(break)

I talk to her everyday
She knows I know
I talk to her everyday
The rain falls and the wind blows

(break)

I wonder why she’s never there in my dreams
When she’s there everywhere ‘n reality

Fell in love
Got burned
Fell in love, got burned

DEEP IS THE MYSTERY © 2018 Grant Olsen

Deep is the mystery
Deep is the mystery
Deep is the mystery of the lake
I lost my best lure before it ever hit the bottom
I’ll get my mojo back one day

I got my breathing apparatus I’m going to lower down
I hope I don’t get stuck in the mud at the bottom of the lake
It’s not a place I ever really see myself
It’s not a place I’d go for a meditative escape
Deep is the mystery
Deep is the mystery
Deep is the mystery of the lake
I lost my best lure before it ever hit the bottom
I’ll get my mojo back one day

I got a submarine with a magnet on the bottom
I hope that the water is clear
I always had terrible night vision
And my nights were always filled with fear
Deep is the mystery
Deep is the mystery
Deep is the mystery of the lake
I lost my best lure before it ever hit the bottom
I’ll get my mojo back one day

I know my way around that old beaver lodge
The one out in the middle by the weeds
I think my old lure might be stashed away in her
But I’m never really sure what those beavers need
Deep is the mystery
Deep is the mystery
Deep is the mystery of the lake
I lost my best lure before it ever hit the bottom
I’ll get my mojo back one day
I’ll get my mojo back one day

I WILL NEVER STRAY © 2018 Grant Olsen

Don’t you worry mama, I always got a home
Don’t you worry papa, you know I’ll always roam
Don’t you worry my good, good friend
I will never stray

Don’t you worry stranger I’ve got a smile for you
Don’t you worry stranger I’ve got the time for you
And don’t you worry my good, good friend
I will never stray

I will never stray my friend
I will be there to the end
I will never stray my friend
I will stay with you to the very end

Don’t you worry woman I believe you
Don’t you worry girl I like to live near you
And don’t you worry my good, good friend
I will never stray

Don’t you worry baby I’ll bring you up with love
Don’t you worry baby there’s no one else above
And don’t you worry, my good, good friend
I will never stray

I will never stray my friend
I will be there to the end
I will never stray my friend
I will stay with you to the very end

ALL THE WAY HOME © 2018 Grant Olsen

Me ‘n’ Sally six years old
Walking after school
All the way home
Sally was crying teacher was yelling
She was feeling bad
Oh to have those problems today

Autumn’s coming leaves are dropping
The nights are getting cool
I’m feeling rather old today
But I still dream in vivid colour
And I’m walking after school
All the way home

Right on, right on
Right on, right on
Sally was crying teacher was yelling
She was feeling bad
All the way home

Logs are loaded in the wood stove
The nights are getting cold
I get the weather report in my bones
But the grog is heavy the windows fogged up
A cushion for my souls
I feel another nap coming on

Right on, right on
Right on, right on
Sally was crying teacher was yelling
She was feeling bad
All the way home
All the way home

LETTER TO BEETHOVEN © 2018 Grant Olsen

Over in the corner sat Beethoven
A tear in his beer
Had his heart handed to him
By the ladies of veneer
He was out of his prescription
For the ringing in his ears
He was hiding in the legion
Pounding back the beers
And the lonely, they live for
Something I guess

He had writ himself a letter
Sent it courier express
Charged the rush with all his money
Sent it to his own address
I will not take any poison
Though I’ll surely suffer long
Even though my ears are folding
I think I’d better carry on
And the lonely, they live for
Something I guess

Well he wrote a few good pop tunes
That Beethoven dude
Never really got a woman
That he didn’t try to sue
They say she was his lover
But what’s a guy to do?
When you walk among the Godly
You’re always looking for your due
And the lonely, they live for
Something I guess

STILL O’ WICKELOW © 2018 Grant Olsen

On the slopes of Carrick Mountain on trails that wind so whimsically past
Tortured lodgepole
Pine and fir
Abandoned by a man, nay guarded by a gnome, stands the
Still o’Wickelow to be sure
There’s talk of this machine nestled high on an escarpment
That overlooks a glendalough where
Shining waters flow
Bring a bowl for drinkin’ bring a mat for sleepin’ if you’re
Going to the still o’Wickelow

Way on high, I come ranging o’er the mountains
With a pail or two of nectar from the barleygrass of Wickelow
A twinkle in my eye and cheeks a-glow

I took quarrel with the preacher, I took quarrel with the magistrate
I quarreled with my woman
A lady true and fair
I took my weary sorrows up that winding mountain trail
At the summit I found my guidin’ cairn

(solo)

I took my rest my head did nod I dreamt of poteen rivers flowing
Down to where her essence
Greets the smilin’ sea
When I woke there was a lass holding up a glass and she
Offered an elixir just for me

Way on high, she comes ranging o’er the mountains
With a pail or two of nectar from the barleygrass of Wickelow
A twinkle in her eye and cheeks a-glow
Way on high, we come ranging o’er the mountains
The angels and the devils they be drinking from our fountains
With a pail or two of nectar from the barleygrass of Wickelow

A twinkle in our eyes and cheeks a-glow
A twinkle in our eyes and cheeks a-glow

CORDUROY ROAD © 2018 Grant Olsen

It started with a game of poker
20-card deck and a jar of rum
There in old Seattle when it was just a mill town

We started up the track with our winnings
And we hit every camp around
Then the two of us headed north cross the border
To old Vancouver Town

We took a steamer to West Howe Sound
And cleaned the fallers out
In a night of heavy drinking
In a log house that we built

Now some may call us cheatin’ men
Or so you may be told
We buried all that gambling money
Down the corduroy road
Look out…

Down the corduroy road that runs from BC to the states
One of those branches of that road
Took us to our fate

Shots rang out as we was lifting that packing trunk from the ground
That was full of all that gamblin’ money when my partner tumbled down

Blood was coming out his ears
And coming out his nose
One of us lost our life that day
Down the corduroy road

Lies…I tell you no lies

I laid down low for a way long time
‘Til I was sure I was alone
Then I dragged that big old packing truck
Down the corduroy road

I told the Mounties we was robbed
But one thing I never told
That though they shot my partner down
They never got the gold

I had to give away some silver
And give away some gold
To keep from sending mounted men
Down that corduroy road

My friends they don’t believe this tale
Though they dare not tell me so
And they dare not take a packing trunk
Down that corduroy road

Lies tell you no lies

POOR MAN’S HOLIDAY © 2018 Grant Olsen

I’m going on a poor man’s holiday
A little R & R for to take
For fish in the lake and tears in my wake
I’m going on a holiday
I’m going on a poor man’s holiday
I’m going on a poor man’s holiday

Tucked into the trees I have paddles and canoe
Time to scrape the snow off her hull
Tucked into my box a file and a spool
Keeping my hooks sharp and never dull

I’m going on a poor man’s holiday
A little R & R for to take
For fish in the lake and tears in my wake
I’m going on a holiday
I’m going on a poor man’s holiday
I’m going on a poor man’s holiday

Got a little rye and a can of smoke sardines
And a pinch of something else I may light
If my fingers don’t fall off and my toes refuse to freeze
I’ll be warming at the fire by tonight

I’m going on a poor man’s holiday
A little R & R for to take
For fish in the lake and tears in my wake
I’m going on a holiday
I’m going on a poor man’s holiday
I’m going on a poor man’s holiday

VERA OF THE BEER HALL © 2018 Grant Olsen

Sober Sunday always leads to Monday
When the beer hall opens at ten
Breakfast is eggs, three pints of beer, clam on the side
and bacon
She knows what I want I don’t have to ask
I don’t have to wait
for Vera
Of the beer hall,
Vera

I leave her tips at least twenty percent
She feeds her kids and she makes the rent
She’s isn’t quite thirty and I wonder if she sees my
Heart pounding though my eyes
Oh Vera
Of the beer hall
Vera

Long black hair a mile a minute talker
I don’t know why I’m so into her
Would you like to go out walking together
Out in the weather with me?
She laughed like a banshee ringing in my ears
You’re old enough to be my father
Oh Vera
Of the beer hall
Oh Vera
You’re cruel and beautiful
I’ll have another beer and clam

Sober Sunday always leads to Monday
When the beer hall opens at ten
Breakfast is eggs, three pints of beer, clam on the side
and bacon
She knows what I want I don’t have to ask
I don’t have to wait
for Vera
Of the beer hall,
Vera…you’re cruel and so beautiful

THE LAST TALL-MASTED SHIP © 2018 Grant Olsen

Sails hung from the gallows, billowing out to sea
I saw the last-tall masted ship before she went alee
They called her the Virginia, she was quite the sight to see
If Rosalyn was here with me she’d surely agree
There’s nowhere for a reading man to list upon the prow
Where does all that book-reading get you anyhow?
You cannot run the jam dog by studying the tao
I could barely bundle canvas then and I cannot do it now

Rosalyn she came to me a 13-year old girl
Her mother had been taken away in the back of a hearse
For love and drugs and addiction and I don’t know which is worse
Sitting her on the corner seems like death is the only cure
The exposition came to town to welcome all the world
I was trying to get over the loss of that little girl
From heroin and crack cocaine and all the things they were
And I was trying to stay clean that year ‘cuz everything was so pure

We lived a while at the Marr Hotel it’s standing still today
But we were forced to another one that finally gave away
Something decadent moved down here, something came this way
Brick by brick they sent that ship to the bottom of the bay
I think it’s a mistake to take for granted all the poor
To shove them in a rooming house and then shove them out the door
One day a great monster will rise up from the ocean floor
To gobble up his children a-bathing on the shore

Where does all the time go when you’re sitting in your only chair?
Does it do a little dance above behind and in the air?
I can’t believe it took so long just to get myself to here
I suppose it’s best I never knew I’d be happiest out there
Sails hung from the gallows, billowing out to sea
I saw the last tall-masted ship before she went alee
They called her the Virginia, she was quite the sight to see
And if the sea were sky and the clouds were sails she’d turn right round for me

MIDNIGHT SPECIAL (traditional arranged by Grant Olsen)

Well you wake up in the morning, hear the work bell ring
And they march you to the table, see the same old thing.
Ain’t no food upon the table ain’t no fork up in the pan.
But you better not complain boy, you get in trouble with the man.

Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me
Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me
Let the Midnight Special shine a light on me
Let the Midnight Special shine an ever loving light on me.

Yonder come Miss Rosie, how in the world could you tell?
By the way she wears her apron, and the clothes she wore.
Umbrella on her shoulder, piece of paper in her hand;
She come to see the gov´nor, she gonna free her man.

If you´re ever in Houston, boy, you better do it right;
You better not gamble and you better not fight
Or the sheriff will grab ya and the boys will bring you down.
And the next thing you know, boy, you´re prison bound.

Close Menu