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Paper Piano 4:340:00/4:34
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So Purple 3:350:00/3:35
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Cry 4:030:00/4:03
Lyrics
Cry
written by S.A. Wolfe
When you can’t describe it –
The pain that you feel,
That’s when you know
That the love it was real.
Everything’s changing
Like has always been true –
The moon and the tides;
The heartbreak and you.
There’s nothing that can be done.
There’s no one to fight.
No use trying to run,
No point in trying to hide.
All you can do is cry.
Cry Cry Cry Cry.
I know you’re hurting,
But that’s all I can say.
Because you know
That we don’t all hurt the same way.
But we’re all in the same boat,
Down this river we go.
And you’ve got to find your way
To get back into the flow.
I’ll give you cover,
If it makes you feel shy,
And when there comes another
Sad goodbye
Know that I got you
And know that you always can cry.
Cry Cry Cry
Cry Cry Cry Cry
Nobody wants that part,
But everyone needs to love.
So you open up your heart,
But sometimes the pain is too much.
You know that you should
And I wish that you would
I’m telling you the truth
That it just feels so good when you cry.
Truck Drivin Man
written by Mark Mann
Walked a step behind her
In her mind her soul’s a thunder bird
Eaten by coyotes in the desert by the drinking water
Walked and talked and wondered
In her mind she’s high above the world
High above the ashes of the trade that he handcrafted for her.
That old truck drivin man
Didn’t walk beside her
In his mind he’d soon divide her
Beaten like scatterbones and laid out on the pavement
Taken through Corinthians
Defeated by Egyptians
Better get old Nat in here
The lizard’s in the kitchen
Walked and talked and wondered
Now she’s dolled up in her turquoise best
Never saw it coming or the gun next to the man beside her
She walked and talked and wondered
In her mind her soul’s a thunderbird
Eaten by coyotes in the desert by the shifting sands
Lightning turned to thunder
Soon the rigor mortis sets on in
Threw her in a grave behind the shiny new convention center
She walked and talked and wondered
In her mind her mind her soul’s a thunderbird
Eaten by coyotes in the desert by the drinking water
Take me down where the truck went dead
I was just about to call you
There’s a special bond between a momma and a daughter
Taken down by your intuition and a broken bottle
A trucker’s intuition was the reason I was stuck down there.
The Moon is Going Down
written by Ryan B. Case
Lost in a feeling that's fleeting
Like all desperate moments in time
They're changing the lies they're repeating
The naked are leading the blind
The ghosts in the trees have all vanished
and no one can say where they've gone
The old men are screaming in Spanish
while their children go chasing the dawn
Still you look like this angel before me
and I find hopefulness I've never known
and the moon is going down so slow.
Outside these walls of resistance
they're all arguing about the cost
while an old woman off in the distance
sings you cannot replace what is lost
the silence is somewhat surprising
oh, the dance of the whole damned affair
red eyes meet orange horizons
choking and gasping for air
The ending is anticlimactic
as endings so often are
the voice through the radio static
calls it the death of a falling star
Yet you look like this angel before me
and I find hopefulness I've never known
and the moon is going down so slow.
Late Nite Radio
Written by S.A. Wolfe
Keep it in between the lines.
Hold on, this will all be over soon.
Billboard ads and exit signs
hide the careless yellow moon.
I won’t forget the lake house.
Please don’t forget the Coney Island song
I’ll just go shut the lights out.
I’ll always want you. I’ve wanted you all along.
Late Nite Radio
Play a song I know
So I can sing along
So I can pretend that I’ve done nothing wrong.
I won’t regret the movies.
Please don’t regret you gave me Beauregard.
I know it’s all so confusing,
but I never meant to hurt him. I know you never mean to break my heart.
Late Nite Radio
Play a song she knows
So she can sing along
So she can pretend that she’s done nothing wrong.
Late Nite Radio
Play a song we know
So we can sing along
So we can pretend
So Purple
Written by S.A. Wolfe and Seth Fox
Red and blue
It’s a simple combination but a different radiation from
Me and you
When we strip away the egos and through the forest we goes
Dancing like kids in the rain
Seeing through the pleasure and pain
to the truth that’s always been
You and I could be so purple
You and I could be so purple
Pulling away
Like a shift from where you’re standing but your zenith is demanding of you
Everyday
Coming and going from the River that keeps flowing
Out in the ocean to dissipate
Up in the sky to precipitate
then we start all over again
You and I could be so purple
You and I could be so purple
You and me
on a circle not a ribbon with no need to be forgiven baby
can’t you see
that the wall is an illusion and it’s causing us confusion
we’re just holding on to a lie
thinking it helps us to get by
But when we let go and get it right
You and I will be so purple
You and I will be so purple
Paper Piano
(S.A. Wolfe & A. Lott)
Every good boy does a little bit better
when they practice their scales after school.
And every little girl’s got nothing left to wear,
and who could ever know that you’re cool.
Hair always tangled, fingers always crossed.
Stars always spangled, eyes always lost.
She wrote the keys on the door.
She spilled the cookies on the floor.
And did you never play a Paper Piano?
And did you never ride a bike with no wheels?
Did you never use a milk jug for a baseball glove?
Could you ever know how happiness feels?
Everybody knows when you ain’t got nothing
that you ain’t got nothing to fear.
I put on my Liberties and grab a good book,
get on my best mule and ride outta here.
Oranges on the TV screen, cigarettes on the porch
Sunday dress on a sewing machine, braided mane on a horse.
Go on and dye your blood blood red.
I’m gonna hunt us down some water and bread.
And did you never play a Paper Piano?
And did you never ride a bike with no wheels?
Did you never use a milk jug for a baseball glove?
Could you ever know how happiness feels?
They could put a fence around anything.
It’s just a matter of posts.
You could put your butter on my guitar strings,
but that ain’t gonna make them toast.
I’m gonna fall down a wishing well.
I’m gonna get me a whole buncha change.
I’m gonna burn down that old pawn shop
and fall asleep in the rain.
And did you never play a Paper Piano?
And did you never love a man before me?
Because I never knew a damn thing til I saw you smile,
and I never knew how good it could be.
Carpenter
(S.A. Wolfe)
You said you thought you kinda loved me.
That’s something I don’t think I could help.
Now you’re drunk at my bar with another homeless Nashville rock star
And I wish you’d just go somewhere else.
Cos Christ knows you bring out the worst in me,
so I don’t know why you’re so surprised.
Cos I don’t really know what happened here.
I have no excuse for my behavior.
But I was never much of a carpenter.
I wouldn’t make you much of a savior.
You got some good things going for you
underneath your empty swimming pool eyes.
You got a blank check torn up in your smile,
like the most believable of your lies.
And Christ knows that I’ve let you down again,
but I can’t be on the cross tonight.
Cos I don’t really know what happened here.
I have no excuse for my behavior.
But I was never much of a carpenter.
I wouldn’t make you much of a savior.
And Christ knows we’ve all been betrayed by a kiss.
Ah, but maybe, baby, I’m just too human for all of this.
Cos I don’t really know what happened here.
I have no excuse for my behavior.
But I was never much of a carpenter.
I wouldn’t make you much of a savior.
Dirty Girl
(S.A. Wolfe)
Dirty Girl, Dirty Girl, come with me to New Orleans.
We’ll go on down to Oxford Square
at Christmas time and see ol’ Jimbo there.
Then at the Graduate, you gon and messed up my hair.
Say, do you remember what we did in Oxford Square?
Dirty Girl, Dirty Girl, come with me to New Orleans.
We’ll stop off round bout old Clarksdale
at the Repass, where everybody’s dressed so well.
Razorblade and Shankerman and Kings for Sale
Ain’t nothing we can do, it’s all for the family now, in old Clarksdale.
Dirty Girl, Dirty Girl, come with me to New Orleans.
Take me out in Jackson town
to The Underground with Mr. Nutty Brown,
F.Jones and tired bones and rain falling down.
Hey, don’t tell nobody what we did in Jackson town.
Dirty Girl, Dirty Girl, come with me to New Orleans.
When we get there we’ll get some Good Voodoo
Some tasso and trombone, some gator too.
Ah, you know I took the long way home like I always do.
846 miles in a rental car with me, the Pope, and you.
About My Falling
(S.A. Wolfe)
the right thing to say
just a few days too late
and again your grace is shown
water displacement
a print for The Basement
and the cover of a standard is blown
and I prefer to have my dinner for lunch
and dessert when I start
and I prefer to use the metric system
when it comes to matters of the heart
but you broke all my beakers apart
and I’ve misplaced my conversion chart
liquid antibiotics
cough suppressing narcotics
holding court at the mission on my birthday
pedialite and cigarettes
bags full of cash and regrets
with a good faith mistake what is there to say
and I’d like to think that my problems
come down to ambition more than facility
and I’d like to think that my falling
is just a natural decline in my mobility
but that would excuse me from my own scrutiny
so that this might go on into perpetuity
Cemetery Blues
(B.W. Goodwin Jr.)
I can’t shake you and your
Cemetery Blues.
I tried to sleep but you’re eating me alive.
I can’t miss you.
Don’t miss me.
It’s hard to leave when you can’t be seen.
I’d be alright if I could sleep through the night,
and not wake up to tell you
I’d be ok if I could walk through the day.
I’d be just fine if I could keep you alive.
Mrs. Ernst’s Piano
(M.J. West)
The neighborhood was changing.
They say it was going down.
They were putting up new houses east of town.
Now, Mrs. Ernst gave piano lessons Sunday afternoons
to the children of the neighborhood. She’d teach simple tunes.
At the old pianola, they’d hammer and they’d pound,
while Mrs. Ernst’s husband read the paper with a frown.
Mrs. Ernst had a visit from a neighbor, Mr. Gunn.
Mr. Gunn wanted piano lessons for his son.
Mrs. Ernst said “I must think it over.” He asked her “Why?”
She said “I have my reasons, sir. Thank you, and goodbye.”
Mrs. Ernst’s husband, he had fixed views.
He saw the world as black and white, and he saw no subtler hues.
Mr. Gunn was surely black, but Mrs. Ernst, she thought
“A child is a child, and children should be taught.”
So that evening Mrs. Ernst asked her husband if she might
give piano lessons to a black child. “Surely it’d be alright.”
Mr. Ernst answered her in no uncertain terms
“Over my dead body!” said Mr. Ernst.
“Over my dead body!” Mr. Ernst replied.
“Over my dead body!” he said, and soon after, he died.
Now, Mrs. Ernst, a widow, did what must be done,
and gave piano lessons to Mr. Gunn’s son.
Now Mrs. Ernst still gives piano lessons Sunday afternoons
at the old pianola in her living room.
While Mrs. Ernst’s husband looks down at her from a frame,
and she knows he wouldn’t like it, but she does it all the same.
Fault Lines
(E.H. Puckett)
Running north to south I promise you
when you’re just west of The Great Divide.
And is your heart and mind reminding you
you were better off alive?
Love is the real that’s sentimental
when you’re trapped behind your new found walls.
And I’m not getting any better.
In fact, I can barely move at all.
You break a promise that you never made at all.
San Andreas, hell, I guess it’s not your fault.
Oh, you remap the landscape,
but then you float into the sea.
While you reshape the Cascade Mountains,
and there’s nothing I can do but leave you be.
I guess we both knew this would happen.
I should have known what you would say.
But beneath your trembling depths, there’s heaven.
And it’s strange now, all I can do is look away.
You break a promise that you never made at all.
San Andreas, hell, I guess it’s not your fault.
Steel Wires
(S.A. Wolfe & A. Lott)
The world walks all over you
You walk all over me.
I’m a beggar that you’re kind to.
And fear is an ocean,
so stay on the island.
and every time you talk,
Your conversations turn into tragedies.
The old car cleans up nice.
And marriage turns men into butlers.
Love is just a clay pot
in a burned down New Orleans hotel.
Steel Wires could open the door.
Set fire to fire, and push me back again.
Your tragedies become mere dinner talk
Nobody’s horse is gonna live forever.
And I’m a schoolboy, mister, play me a cover song.
But this was not my decision,
so don’t ask have I changed my mind.
Steel Wires could open the door.
Set fire to fire, and push me back again.
The Bluesman plays The River.
The walls bleed black with mold.
And Jazz is always running out of incense.
And politics will be.
Hang a flag on your window,
put the blood over the door.
Steel Wires could open the door.
Set fire to fire and push me back again.
Light your cigars and stare at my wife.
Drink your poison.
Enjoy my life.
O’ Magnolia
(S.A. Wolfe)
O’ Magnolia, it’s long past time to change your regalia.
But keep the blue for the Scottish Seas, and for the warm gulf breeze.
Stubborn as it may be, keep the blue for the bravery.
Discard the stars and bars you hid behind when you meant slavery.
O’ Magnolia
O’ Magnolia, keep the red for the warnings we need:
the hurricanes and hunger and heat, and the blood and lessons of defeat.
See the bright and shining stars for what they really are,
and from where they truly come – from the fertile earth of our hearts.
O’ Magnolia
O’ Magnolia, you are not just the crimes of you fathers.
And until you forgive yourself, you will never know all your wealth.
But the world will embrace your new display, and cheer you on towards a new day
to grow strong and sound with your roots in the ground, with your trunk and your
branches the only Gray.
O’ Magnolia
O’ Magnolia, let the white that you pride be your Petals.
But keep the blue for the Choctaw tears, and know redemption will still take years.
Painful as it may be, keep the red and its strength to remind
Unlock the chains you’ve kept your mighty hills and trees and rivers behind
and be free.
O’ Magnolia