Make my bed with a crease in the middle
Make my home in a hollow in the hills (or "Hollywoodish
hills" or "Hollywood of shills")
Make my livin' on a hillbilly fiddle
Playin' little runs and the funny (or "funky") little
fills.
Well, I got me a gal from playin' on the fiddle
And the harder that I fiddle, the harder that she comes
along;
And I (or "but we") gotta get happy, when we wiggle in
the middle,
'Cause that's when I know they're gonna (or "I want to")
come home.
CHORUS: Play, fiddle, play.
All day long, I hear you screamin' at me
Way far away in the yard.
Well, I wrote this song with a vamp in the middle,
And I knew when I wrote it, that I'd written it for the
It's hard to concentrate on waiting
Wonder if she will know my face
Trying to remember, might have the time
Or maybe might have been the place
In an underground railroad station,just out of the rain
So much depends on the six o'clock train
And a girl with green eyes
Hands on the subway clock
Almost straight up and down
Way back in that black flat tunnel
I thought I heard a sound
Will she know me when she sees me
Or will she wait to hear my voice
Will I see her coming through the steam
In the maddening rush hour noise
In an underground railroad station,just out of the rain
So much depends on the six o'clock train
And a girl with green eyes
So silly in my nervousness
So crazy in my fears
I asked a man with a brown suit on
Does the six o'clock train stop here?
Well sir, it could be, and turned as if in pain
And I wonder maybe he like I, depending on that train
In an underground station, just out of the rain
So much depends on the six o'clock train
Much further off than inevitable
Halloween's they game
Sky King is come, and Wilma's done
Uncertain, as it is uneven
Give us this day hors d'oeuvres in bed
As we forgive those who have dressed up against us
And need us not enter inflation
But a liver, onions, and tomatoes
For wine on a shingle, and a mower
And a story for your father
They're gonna tear down the grand old opry
They're gonna tear down the sound that goes around our
song
They're gonna tear down the grand ole opry
Another good thing, is done gone on, done gone on
Well there were campers
And there were busses
Parked all around, where there used to be a door
But that place
Called the grand ole opry
It just ain't there
Just ain't there no more
They're gonna tear down the grand old opry
They're gonna tear down the sound that goes around our
song
They're gonna tear down the grand ole opry
Another good thing, is done gone on, done gone on
Right across from the wax museum they used to line up
around the block
From east Tennessee and back down home again
All of a sudden there's nothing to do where there once
was an awful lot
Broad Street will never be the same
They're gonna tear down the grand old opry
They're gonna tear down the sound that goes around our
song
They're gonna tear down the grand ole opry
Another good thing, is done gone on, done gone on
I've been in love with the grand ole opry
And I guess I have now for a good many years
When I hear the grand ole opry
It makes me sad that it's gonna disappear, gonna
All around somebody else's pad,
You stumble as you chase the latest fad.
Don't look confused with all the things you find.
Just wait until the crowd makes up your mind.
CHORUS: Coming back repeating every word,
Repeating all the things you overheard,
The bandwagons rumble past. I sit here on the curb,
And like an echo, you are like unto a mockingbird.
As long as you can sing their style of song,
You won't be lonely; you can tag along,
Pasted on your face a sickly grin,
Hoping that someone will say you're in.
Dark eyes shifting round take in a lot,
Noting who is here and then who's not.
Careful that you keep your standing clear
Away from those with whom you can't be seen.
Here lately you don't speak or even look
Because my name's not written in their book,
But if they turn my different ways to see,
Someday, my baby, when I am a man,
And others have taught me the best that they can,
Sell me a suit, cut off my hair,
And send me to work in tall buildings.
CHORUS: So its goodbye to the sunshine, goodbye to the
dew,
Goodbye to the flowers, and goodbye to you.
I'm off to the subway. I must not be late.
I'm going to work in tall buildings.
When I'm retired, my life is my own.
I've made all my payments. its time to go home.
Wonder what happened betwixt and between,
STEAMBOAT WHISTLE BLUES
(John Hartford)
Well I started out to be a towboat man
But I never got the hang of a ratchet bar
I was a -growin up a-deckin in the
Illinois trade with coal dust in my ear
I got stuck in the ice on Christmas Eve
And I froze my ass it's true
Just a shiv'rin and a-shakin with a Down South case of
them
Steamboat whistle blues
Oh Captain Way I'm sorry, my hat is off to you
You've been a-hanging out by the old cook stove
With the steamboat whistle blues
Well way up North I called your phone
But I didn't get no one to answer
So I opened up the window and I smoked a little bit
And I watched the cars go by
I'm gonna hunt you up and ask you
If you found out anything new
Or are you a-hangin to the best you had
With the steamboat whistle blues
I've been right here since nine o'clock
And believe you me that's true
Just a-lookin at the water ways churning with the
steamboat whistle blues
Well the city's growing up where it looks all square
Like a crossword puzzle on the landscape
It looks like an electric shaver now
Where the courthouse used to be
The grass is all synthetic
And we don't know for sure about the food
The only thing we know for sure is them steamboat
whistle blues
I'd sit and watch my TV if I thought I could trust the
news
About the only thing I trust these days
Is them steamboat whistle blues
Well "far out" Johnny well I heard him say
As he stretched out back on the water bed
Bluegrass music is a thing of the past
And the same for rock and roll
And I loaned him two or three dollars
And he gave me the latest news
And he left me here with a Rolling Stone
And the steamboat whistle blues
I'll tear off down the river some day before I'm
through
Then come back here and see it out
Well I never went away on a Steam Powered Aero plane.
Well I went and stayed and damn near didn't come back
again.
Didn't go very fast on a steam powered aero plane,
Oh the wheel went around, up and down, and inside and
then back again.
Sittin' in a 747 just watching them clouds roll by,
Can't tell if it's sunshine or if it's rain.
Rather be sittin' in a deck chair high above Kansas City,
On a genuine old fashioned steam powered aero plane.
Well I'd like to be a pilot on a steam powered aero
plane.
Well I'd pull that pilot wheel around and then back
again.
Well, I'll wear a blue hat, yeah, that says Steam Powered
Aero plane
Well I dream of a girl and a steering wheel steamboat
A pilothouse stove and engine room brass
Hanging on a post by the maindeck stairway
Long hair skippin in the Mississippi dew
Oh the river run wide, run deep, run muddy
The river run long after I am gone
With the steamboat wheeling on a big wide bend
Just skippin in the Mississippi Dew
Well I went up the river come way last Sunday
Twelve feet of water on the Memphis gage
Wouldn't be home without the muddy water rolling
Paddle wheel skippin in the Mississippi dew
Oh the river run wide, run deep, run muddy
Oh the river run long after I am gone
With the steamboat wheelin on a big wide bend
Just skippin in the Mississippi Dew
Now it used to be Spring I'd ship on the river
Thirty five days on a balla [sic] line boat
I'd make a little money, get a springtime chicken
And take off a skippin in the Mississippi Dew
Oh the river run wide, run deep, run muddy
Oh the river run long after I am gone
With the steam boat wheelin round a big wide bend
Just skippin in the Mississippi dew
Oh the river run wide, run deep, run muddy
Oh the river run long after I am gone
With the steamboat wheelin round a big wide bend
(G) the years creep slowly (G7) by, Lo - (C) re - na,
The (D7) snow is on the grass a - (G) gain;
The sun's low down the (G7) sky, Lo - (C) re - na,
The (D7) frost gleams where the flowers have (G) been.
But my (Em) heart beats on as warmly (Bm) now,
As (B7) when the summer days were (Em) nigh; (D7)
The (G) sun can never (G7) dip so (C) low,
Or (D7) down affections cloudless (G) sky.
A hundred months have passed, Lorena,
Since last i held that hand in mine,
And felt the pulse beat fast, Lorena,
Though mine beat faster far than thine.
A hundred months, 'twas flowery may,
When up the hilly slope we climbed,
To watch the dying of the day,
And hear the distant church bells chime.
We loved each other then, Lorena,
More than we ever dared to tell;
And what we might have been, Lorena,
Had but our lovings prospered well.
But then, 'tis past, the years are gone,
I'll not call up their shadowy forms;
I'll say to them, "lost years, sleep on!
Sleep on! Nor heed life's pelting storms."
The story of that past, Lorena,
Alas! I care not to repeat,
The hopes that could not last, Lorena,
They lived, but only lived to cheat.
I would not cause them one regret
To rankle in your bosom now;
For "If we try, we may forget,"
Were words of thine long years ago.
Yes, these were words of thine, Lorena,
They burn within my memory yet;
They touched some tender chords, Lorena,
Which thrill and tremble with regret.
'Twas not thy woman's heart that spoke;
Thy heart was always true to me:
A duty, stern and pressing, broke
The tie which linked my soul with thee.
It matters little now, Lorena,
The past is in the eternal past;
Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena,
Life's tide is ebbing out so fast.
There is a future! O, thank God!
Of life this is so small a part!
'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod;
Now trains are runnin' towards each other.
Shotguns are pointed at my head.
Tornado clouds are formin' o'er the crossroads.
H-bombs are fallin' towards my bed,
But I'm still here.
I'm still here. Now, how 'bout that?
My city may be fallin'
But I'm still here
The assassination squad has got their orders.
Repossession man is on his way.
Landlady's given me her notice.
I'll get pitched out in the trash just any day,
But I'm still here.
I'm still here. Now, how 'bout that?
I may have lost my lunchbox,
But I'm still here.
Well, the moths make my shirt, my britches.
They're workin' on my hat, but I don't care.
I haven't had a meal since the fire went out,
An' all you do is stand around and stare,
But I'm still here.
I'm still here. Now, how 'bout that?
I might not hear you laughin',
I would not be here if I hadn't been there
And I wouldn't been there if I hadn't just turned
On Wednesday the third in the late afternoon
Got to talking with George who works out in the back
And only because he was getting off early
To go see a man at a Baker Street bookstore
With a rare first edition of steamboats and cotton
A book he would never have sought in the first place
Had he not been inspired
By a fifth grade replacement schoolteacher in Kirkwood
Who was picked just at random
By some man on a school board who couldn't care less
And she wouldn't been working
If not for her husband
Who moved two months prior to work in the office
Of a man he had met
While he served in the army
And only because they were in the same barracks
An accident caused by a poorly made roster
Mixed up on the desk of a Sargent from Denver
Who wouldn't be in but for bein in back
In the car he was ridin before he enlisted that hit a
cement truck
and killed both his buddies
But a back seat flew up there and spared him from dyin
And only because of the fault of a workman
Who forgot to turn screws on a line up in Detroit
Cause he hollered at Sam who was hateful that morning
Hungover from drinkin alone at a tavern
Because of a woman he wished he'd not married
He met long ago at a jewish bar mitzvah
For the son of a man who had moved there from Jersey
Who managed a drugstore that sold the prescription
That cured up the illness he caught way last summer
He wouldn't have caught except for some kid
All contagious from fever who sat in his lap
Was the son of a man who sold him insurance
Well I sure do miss that Good Old Electric Washing
Machine,
The one that we ain't got 'round here no more.
And I sure do miss that big round tub and them stompin',
swingin' sounds
And I miss them groovy puddles on the floor.
The new one just sits there in all its glory on Monday
mornin' way over in the corner of the basement goin'
hmmmmmmmmm.
But the old one went - (washing machine noises)
Well I cry when I see that brand new automatic washing
machine,
'Cause I'm sentimental for the old machine still yet.
'Cause the old one really looks like a real, live washing
machine,
but the new one just looks more like a television set.
New one just sits there goin' hmmmmmm.
But the old one went - (washing machine noises)
It's knowing that your door is always open and your
path is free to walk,
That makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up
and stashed behind your couch.
And it's knowing I'm not shackled by forgotten words
and bonds and the ink stains that have dried upon some
line,
That keeps you in the back roads by the rivers of my
memory, that keeps you ever gentle on my mind.
It's not clinging to the rocks and ivy planted on their
columns now that bind me,
Or something that somebody said because they thought we
fit together walkin'.
It's just knowing that the world will not be cursing or
forgiving when I walk along some railroad track and
find
That you're moving on the back roads by the rivers of
my memory and for hours you're just gentle on my mind.
Though the wheat fields and the clothes lines and the
junkyards and the highways come between us,
And some other woman's crying to her mother 'cause she
turned and I was gone.
I still might run in silence, tears of joy might stain
my face and summer sun might burn me till I'm blind,
But not to where I cannot see you walkin' on the back
roads, by the rivers flowing gentle on my mind.
I dip my cup of soup back from the gurglin', crackling
cauldron in some train yard;
My beard a roughn'ning coal pile and a dirty hat pulled
low across my face;
Through cupped hands 'round a tin can, I pretend I hold
you to my breast and find,
That you're wavin' from the back roads by the rivers of
I was in love with you, well-before I knew,
it meant more than just wanting to be with you
I used to look for other girls that looked like you
But the laws of nature said, ‘forget it, son’
‘least that’s what somebody told me
I worried about it a little bit, but that’s all
I dreamt that you were Joan-of Arc
And I was Don Quixote
And everywhere we went the world was tin-foil
But I gave up dreaming, and became a priest
It put it right out of my system
I worried about it a little bit, but that’s all
Now you used to play the guitar
We worked in a country band
I hung out down on the river bank, on Sunday
Your brother was my closest friend,
he drove a pickup truck
he used to bring me home sometimes, from high school
Now I was fifteen, oh the very first time
Love broke completely inside me
We young, and we were learning about it together
And we had enough of what we thought we’d need
Of those well-known secret fables
We worried about it a little bit, but that’s all
I regret my life won’t be long enough
To make love to all the women that I’d like to
Or least of all, to live with the ones I’ve loved
And I’ve never regretted a love affair,
except one and that’s all over
I worried about it a little bit, but that’s all
Now I heard you lived a-way up north
Your kids are fat and plenty
And I haven’t seen your brother since a-way last Easter
And if every other girl in the whole wide world
Was just a little bit more like you
I’d worry about it a little bit, but that’s all
Now you used to play the guitar
We worked in a country band
We hung out down on the river bank, on Sunday
Your brother was my closest friend,
he drove a pickup truck
One evening as the sun went down
And the jungle fires were burning,
Down the track came a hobo hiking,
And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning
I'm headed for a land that's far away
Besides the crystal fountains
So come with me, we'll go and see
The Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
There's a land that's fair and bright,
Where the handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.
Where the boxcars all are empty
And the sun shines every day
And the birds and the bees
And the cigarette trees
The lemonade springs
Where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
All the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The farmers' trees are full of fruit
And the barns are full of hay
Oh I'm bound to go
Where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall
The winds don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
You never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats
And the railway bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew
And of whiskey too
You can paddle all around it
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
The jails are made of tin.
And you can walk right out again,
As soon as you are in.
There ain't no short-handled shovels,
No axes, saws nor picks,
I'm bound to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the jerk
That invented work
Today I felt the cruel world
Through the skin of your rose colored touch
And an hour was better than nothing at all
In the knowing that that wasn't much
I'd like to eat your pretzels my love
I'd like to stay all day
But I must kiss you quick and run my love
Before they tow my car away
You haven't got change for a dollar
Besides it won't work after four
Just as soon as I lace up my work shoes
I think I should head to the door
I'd like to drink your coffee my love
I'd like to stay all day
But I must kiss you quick and run my love
Verse 1:
One day about twenty-five years from now,
When we've all grown old from a-wondering how,
Oh we'll all sit down at the city dump,
And talk about the Goodle Days.
Oh you'll pass the joint and I'll pass the wine,
And anything good from a-down the line.
A lot of good things went down one time,
Back in the Goodle Days.
Chorus:
And the Good Old Days are past and gone.
A lot of good people have done gone on.
That's my life when I sing this song about
Back in the Goodle Days
Verse 2:
Sometimes I get to thinkin' that we're almost done,
And there ain't nothin' left that we can figure out.
And I guess it must have seemed a lot more like that
Back in the Goodle Days,
But when ya gotta go, ya gotta go.
There's always somebody don'tcha know,
A-hangin' round a-sayin' "Well I told you so",
Back in the Goodle Days.
Chorus
Verse 3:
Oh we'll all join hands and we'll gather round,
When that old guitar starts to make that sound.
A lot of good things went down downtown,
Back in the Goodle Days.
Squeezin' love with the people that we hadn't even met,
Out for anything that we could get.
Oh we did it then and we'll do it yet,
Back in the Goodle Days.
Chorus
John Hartford
Miscellaneous
I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow
I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow
John Hartford
(O Brother, Where Art Thou?)
(In constant sorrow through his days )
I am a man of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my day.
I bid farewell to old Kentucky
The place where I was born and raised.
(The place where he was born and raised )
For six long years I've been in trouble
No pleasures here on earth I found
For in this world I'm bound to ramble
I have no friends to help me now.
(chorus) He has no friends to help him now
It's fare thee well my old lover
I never expect to see you again
For I'm bound to ride that northern railroad
Perhaps I'll die upon this train.
(chorus) Perhaps he'll die upon this train.
You can bury me in some deep valley
For many years where I may lay
Then you may learn to love another
While I am sleeping in my grave.
(chorus) While he is sleeping in his grave.
Maybe your friends think I'm just a stranger
My face you'll never see no more.
But there is one promise that is given
I'll meet you on God's golden shore.
One evening as the sun went down
And the jungle fires were burning,
Down the track came a hobo hiking,
And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning
I'm headed for a land that's far away
Besides the crystal fountains
So come with me, we'll go and see
The Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
There's a land that's fair and bright,
Where the handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.
Where the boxcars all are empty
And the sun shines every day
And the birds and the bees
And the cigarette trees
The lemonade springs
Where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
All the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The farmers' trees are full of fruit
And the barns are full of hay
Oh I'm bound to go
Where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall
The winds don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
You never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats
And the railway bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew
And of whiskey too
You can paddle all around it
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
The jails are made of tin.
And you can walk right out again,
As soon as you are in.
There ain't no short-handled shovels,
No axes, saws nor picks,
I'm bound to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the jerk
That invented work