1. |
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2. |
Hendrick Hudson Lanes
03:03
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Everybody's rollin' down at Hendrick Hudson Lanes,
Take it frame by frame,
Bowl that perfect game.
Everybody's smokin' at Hendrick Hudson Lanes,
Bubbles in the beer,
Troubles disappear.
Need a quarter, find a quarter.
Hey Eddie, can't you get my ball out of the gutter?
Hey Eddie, can't you light my cigarette too?
Hey Eddie, can't you get my life out of the gutter?
'Cause I can't pick up spares like I used to do.
Everyone belongs at Hendrick Hudson Lanes,
Jack's behind the bar,
sneakin' pretzels from the jar.
And when you hear the thunder and lightning, don't be scared -
It's just the angels bowling strikes,
so steal the hat from the girl you like,
not from the old men spoiling for a fight.
Where you from? Blistered thumb.
Hey Eddie, can't you get my ball out of the gutter?
Hey Eddie, won't you tell the paper I won?
Hey Eddie, can't you get my life out of the gutter?
'Cause I need a reason to walk back into the sun.
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3. |
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Christmas Time, Seventh Street,
Lights along the trees,
Displays of snowy scenes around the park.
Borderline in stasis, but they are not without their graces,
All weird, exaggerated faces in the dark.
A ragged mouse with one eye missing,
Opening an empty present,
an elf kid with his head caved in,
You struggle to regain the feeling of being awed,
then all at once,
You remember how the winter comes in,
Bright and bitter but so inviting,
You float down photocopies of old streets just out of focus.
Take a deep breath and it smells like nothing.
You remember how the winter comes in,
But you know there's no sense running,
And though you're more than half afraid
to find the ice won't bear your weight,
You step out anyway,
and man, that's something!
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4. |
The Calico
03:52
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Strike 'til the last armed foe expires,
Strike for the altar and your fires,
Strike for the green graves of your sires,
God and your happy home,
Well the good patroon curled up and died,
and by the time the spring arrived,
the sons were knocking on our door,
saying, "We need money and we want yours!"
Father ran out into the cold,
and blew down hard on the dinner horn,
You'll wish you were never born
when you see The Calico.
Then a musket cracked and a flock of geese
scattered high above the trees,
The smell of smoke came with the breeze,
behold The Calico!
Sixteen men in sheepskin masks
whooped and drank from leather flasks,
Thunder rolled across their backs,
We've come to break your law.
They threw the sons on the back of a steed,
rode off with ferocious speed,
"Down with the rent!" was their creed,
and all creation groaned.
Strike 'til the last armed foe expires,
Strike for the altar and your fires,
Strike for the green graves of your sires,
God and your happy home...
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5. |
Simon & Oscar
03:05
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One day Simon says to Oscar, "Listen,
I believe there's gold up in the hills.
If only we could just reach out and grab it,
drain the earth until we've had our fill."
Well, Oscar wasn't sure if he believed him,
Certainty's for men of certain means,
and even when the devil comes a callin',
you've still gotta pay the bills.
Once the mine got goin', there was trouble,
and all that it produced was hardened hearts,
Soon enough, well, Simon had a new plan,
Strip the land and sell it off for parts.
'Cause empty stomachs make a person desperate,
and desperation makes a person mean,
Truth be told, old Oscar thought that he'd been swindled,
left behind to starve.
And no one knows who threw the first blow,
But the smell of smoke,
Well, Simon's dead and Oscar's hit the road.
Somewhere in some cold, forgotten corner,
Oscar in a frozen sea of spruce,
Got himself a new name and a string of yesterdays,
Let the solitary years accrue
But shoulders, they're not meant for lookin' over,
Even when the rent is comin' due,
So when Oscar stuck his head out of the snow,
it went directly in a noose.
And no one knows who threw the first blow,
and the county doesn't really give a damn,
They just drop the ax,
and gather 'round the square to watch you dance.
And no one knows, so it goes,
Another in a never ending chain.
One a villain, one a saint,
Both men lost to livin' all the same.
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6. |
Stanley's Song
04:07
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Hey Stan, where you been?
Now that the tide's rollin' in,
and the lighthouse appears to be sinking.
In this desperate scene, would you intervene?
Or say that you'd rather be drinking?
Now we watch from afar as the foundation crumbles beneath,
but in my mind, he could hold it all up with a rope in his teeth,
'Cause my grandfather rescued a man in the Hudson,
and I bet he could save fifty more,
So lay that old lighthouse across his broad shoulders,
and he'll carry it safe to the shore.
Well old grandpa was wise, with a wit sharp as knives,
and a jump shot that reached to the clouds,
He would study the scripture, and swim through the river,
and fiddle by moonlight so proud.
He swam with a force that would have put Neptune to shame,
but back on dry land, he was gone before learning our names.
But my grandfather rescued a man in the Hudson,
as the freighters capsized on his crown,
So tell all the toxins they'd better start swimming,
Get a head start lest he drink you down.
Well, I've never been an Olympian,
and I never made symphonies sing,
and I probably won't ever call Heaven home,
and I'll never be healer nor king.
But I might be greater if he were still here.
We'd face every wild-eyed beast without fear.
When the moon lit his fiddle, I'd strum the guitar,
and I'd call to the gods,
sayin' "Who do you think that you are?"
'Cause my grandfather rescued a man in the Hudson,
and he could save five hundred more,
so I'll lay my old burden across his broad shoulders,
and he'll carry me safe to the shore.
Yes my grandfather rescued a man in the Hudson,
at least that's the story I'm told,
but he never resurfaced from that tidal current,
'cause he never turned lead weights to gold.
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7. |
Further Inland Blues
02:24
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(Instrumental)
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8. |
Win For Life
02:54
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Drivin' down 9G, taking in the scenery,
Smell of smoke from the chimneys,
makes me wonder how I was made.
Think I'll stop at Stewart's, and pump a little gasoline,
Scratch a ticket and eat ice cream,
but what flavor will it be?
I don't know where I'm goin',
but just between you and me,
I hope I never get there.
And when I get to Poughkeepsie,
I'll turn around and do it again,
I think I hit the jackpot
Win For Life!
Drivin' down 9G, I've seen it all before,
So how come I want more and more?
Just a feeling I can't ignore.
A hand painted sign by the road says, "Pick Your Own,"
I think I will and bring 'em on home,
and eat 'em on the porch with you.
I don't know where I'm goin',
but just between you and me,
I hope I never get there.
And when I get to Poughkeepsie,
I'll turn around and do it again,
I think I hit the jackpot
Win For Life!
Win For Life!
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9. |
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Two weeks on her feet among machines,
the pay was shit,
so back to weaving, to the ringing in her bones,
and how the shadow from the mountain
draws the curtain closed.
When Lizzy sleeps she dreams of
Great gray fists,
descending from the sky,
And the whole of life compressed into a line
Divided by the White oak
She wakes,
one deep breath and then the knife awaits,
to split the morning while the dream evaporates,
the way the wood cracks in her hands,
the sound it makes,
Something sacred in the
Shape it takes as it curls into itself,
To end the same as the moment it began,
Woven in the White oak
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