1. |
Holding On
04:27
|
|||
|
I said hold on, hold on
I’ll be on my way as soon as I find the words
‘tis a dim fire I know, but I’ll get it done before we go
And as they fell onto the page by magic and wonder I realized
I knew not of the madness or the gloom that followed with him
Oh I knew not of the madness or the gloom that followed him
And I was beginning to understand just how much.
Neal was moving ahead on the wrong side of the road,
and thought it was the wrong side, he was only doing it
‘cause he wanted so much to change.
Oh he needed so much to change
And he knew that I knew but I didn't care
He knew that I knew but I didn't care
And we dragged along fine
Sweet sorrowful friends
Onward, I thought, that was the deal.
As far as those words are concerned, he said
“See, truth can be something else”
He watched over my words as I read his steps
There is so much more to the road than you could care to devise
Wow there is so much more to the road than you could care to devise
And he knew that I knew but I didn't care
he knew that I knew but I didn't care
And we dragged along fine
Sweet sorrowful friends
We went to New York, there was no flame there
I made him Saint of the church that lurked in the cracked mirror
And then they moved on.
I couldn’t hold on to them
I couldn’t hold on to them
|
||||
2. |
The Wild Ones
04:17
|
|||
|
They raced down the halls of wisdom
everything was new and everything was true,
but somewhere further, another truth would be revealed
how they fell when the night, engulfed in silence
tore away from them the desire of moving on.
That, I did witness with surprise
‘cause the only thing I ever believed in were the wild ones
The wild ones at heart, wild in dreams, wild in their ways,
who stand beyond everything you know.
Oh, the ones who’ll never kneel to anything but truth
And they dance, oh they dance
Then time took its toll, and what once was a promise
would be the end of me and the bright lights of this new dawn
Now, I wonder, why Neal was long gone
But back then, how I longed for the true West
Somewhere along the road, I would find the revelation
Somewhere along the road, the dream would be made real to me
‘cause the only thing I ever believed in were the Wild Ones
The ones who are wild at heart, wild in dreams, wild in their ways,
who stand beyond everything you know.
the ones who’ll never kneel to anything but truth
They dance, oh dance
They dance, dance like pagans ‘round the bonefire
They dance, dance like pagans ‘round the bonefire
They dance, dance, dance
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
That first driver had an half ton truck with a Billy Big Rigger who picked me up in Lincoln land
all that greaser told me was where Route 6 intersects Route 66
Along the same track, in a roadhouse joint, a dolly took me in as her passenger
I was beyond myself a I got into that car.
And then I took over the wheel and I thundered down the road straight to Davenport.
and land Ho! I stood before the Holy Spirit River
Dead in the summer blaze. Cruel water with its rising tide
That Mississippi Suite through America, like in 27’
Oh Rock Island prison blues, crews, all rising up.
Then that woman left me there and I kept riding
I was at the turning point;
through that breach in the wall where men lose their past and I have come to die.
this ghost of my invention came to visit unannounced in that crimson day.
I rose up from the ashes of a dream and in that single moment,
the truest of all, I realized I was beside myself.
I was drunk with the poison of ether
But that wasn’t me. It was all stardust and lies
An unsuspecting ghost who came to claim my life I had
But the greatest travel of all was about to begin
A ride with them two boys; two farmers from the North Star state
These devils they were taking on every single mile like it was the last one
Ah, they were always crackin’ up, and those sumbitches never stopped
hang on, brother, hang on
I was at the turning point;
through that breach in the wall where men lose their past and I have come to die.
I told that ghost I would see him down in the city
I’d arrive from the wasteland a revelation: the last true prophet of Denver
I’d bring the thunder down
I’d bring the thunder down
“wow”
|
||||
4. |
The Shadow Traveller
03:52
|
|||
|
Around that time a strange dream began to haunt me some wicked thought made me realize there was something I was about to learn before Neal came about
now it was gone, right out of my hands and then time took care of all the rest
I kept searching my memories just to remember if I heard anything. I couldn’t tell if I’d get back
To that ghost who stood beyond the wasteland
And held those arms up before we crossed the river
I am sure he had to be The Shadow Traveller
at once I sat, and told him all about the dream I had about the darkness that followed me across the river, and just how cruel it felt
to be taken before I got to the other side
What could it be? I wondered and assumed it was myself, ‘neath the weight of the night.
That wasn't true.
Well, something, someone…
Now that I remember, the words I heard were wrong.
Death will never blame us into heaven and who wants to die?
To that ghost who stood beyond the wasteland
And held those arms up before we crossed the river
I am sure he had to be The Shadow Traveller
I went looking for my new found truth the broken dreams live there too
Jack, where will you find that wonderful crowd?
"I will find them in the West."
Now that I remember, the words I heard were wrong.
Death will never blame us into heaven and who wants to die?
|
||||
5. |
Old Bill
05:14
|
|||
|
We moved! We danced under the bright light we headed south – it dawned in our minds.
Oh we're going down to New Orleans to find dear Old Bill.
Ain't that just killer-diller
And listen here man, to this wild saxophone tearing it down the dream was there, the dream was there it was all crazy.
The radio was howling mad
We went to Old Bill’s house, on the outskirts of the city A backroad alongside the muddy river
his house was an old shack, Bougainvilleas on the lawn
Joan was under them. Opened her mouth: "sad, sad paradise"
Old Bill came back in a beat down Cadillac found his home flooded with the madmen’s ball
hey Jack, you finally arrived.
Man, It would take a lifetime to talk about Old Bill
He wasted years and years roaming the United States He had a shady deal with a Mexican horse racing track there are old police reports with his fake name all over them stacks of yellow pages packed with all kinds of misdemeanours
There are descriptions of him on the shores of Morocco, his eyes drooping on the streets of Tangier;
He was a Shaman in Massachusetts, a private dick in New York he never heard from those racehorses again
He spoke those words right from the back of his mind: Neal’s gone If you drive to LA with this deranged man, you’ll never live through that why don’t you stay with me?
I’ve got a new pair of guns and a fresh white canvas
There’s another story about his younger days
Desire took over his well tormented soul
Old Bill grabbed a knife, cut off his left-hand finger and gave it to his lover But dead fingers don’t talk as much as you would think
No surprise he had a machine-gun in his basement
A painter of sorts blasting cans of paint with his shotgun
He said he could knockout an apple from the top of anyone’s head with a single shot Only thing wrong, no-one volunteered
We had a wild night in downtown New Orleans
Neal was gone from this earth
We got back to the house – to the madmen’s ball
We had to leave Old Bill back to his knives
He spoke those words right from the back of his mind: Neal’s gone
If you drive to LA with this deranged man, you’ll never live through that You roll the dice, you pay the toll. That’s the score
|
||||
6. |
||||
|
That one day, he said, I woke up stranded under the bed
and couldn’t breathe or feel any sound.
I gasped for words with my arms open wide.
I could see colours dancing near and heard all kinds
of fabulous tiny secret windows into my delirium
now the angel had returned
he was moonstruck again
The following day, the smoke had settled down
All was true and real and
meaningful thoughts came to me, out of the blue
in a strange and new diabolical way.
There was someone creeping in, but I kept him There... Real quiet
now the angel had returned
he was moonstruck again
the devil himself was never that far from heaven
that murderous sky across America
An undone bird
Jack, I tumbled down to hell at the feet of LuAnne
And would you know that her days were just as mine?
that’s when I found I was real gone over her
I went back and drove my fist through the wall
She fell to her knees, with her eyes on the prize:
The gun I brought her to kill me
With the barrel to my head, there she lingered
I viciously waited that sweet release.
I told her this is the part where we die.
She whispered "no"
and then I found I was real gone
now the angel had returned
he was moonstruck again
the devil himself was never that far from heaven
that murderous sky across America.
An undone bird
You have finally come to me
and so we picked up our pace and drove out to the west of the American night
we drove out to the West of the American night.
We dreamt out the West of the American night
|
||||
7. |
A Home In The West
04:35
|
|||
|
Last night I was awoken by this little song
A house in the city, a house by the sea
A house in the field, that ain’t for me
The house where I live is bent down indeed
a home in west, that’s where I long to be
I took the wayward bus back to the prophet’s land,
I roamed about and walked the black mountain trail
way down in Rockbridge I stood by the grave of Stonewall Jackson
at midnight, the late whisper of the Northern Cardinal
The menacing and brooding Ohio
The pine-covered Black Hills rising from the Great Plains
their green gold bearing steep slopes
the abandoned cradles and pans by the river
A lost home from the old West
They told me Neal was coming back again
his long dreadful Shadow casting over me
I felt his arms, I saw them rising up from that faithful darkness
I heard the galloping, that pale horse closing in.
Hell followed with him to the west
Either way, we had to make room for Neal
We all knew he would captain us to Mexico
The last hours with the acolytes of Denver, hell broke loose for the last time
We found ourselves feasting in the great hall of the palace of wisdom
and ended up drinking in the lonely backroom of the town theatre
I had no idea what would follow. This would the best trip of all
In the hallway I was no longer thinking of the west, but of the magic south
That night I was awoken by this little song
A house in the city, a house by the sea
A house in the field, that ain’t for me
The house where I live is bent down indeed
a home in west, that’s where I long to be
But Neal was back
his long dreadful Shadow casting over me
I felt his arms, I saw them rising up from that faithful darkness
I heard the galloping, that pale horse closing in. Hell followed with him to the west
This is IT! said Neal. We won’t be treading water anymore
|
||||
8. |
Wild Country
03:53
|
|||
|
We left town in a hurry and headed down south
The past was in the backseat and we left him behind
Only God knows what he will remember
We double-timed it man, but the past was on our tail
Frank was on the beam to bad, bad place
yapping away and laughing happily,
when he felt a stinger piercing his arm.
He screamed and howled.
That mystifying sting brought fear into our thoughts
We drove on
We drove on
Neal ploughed ahead through the night
cruising as if doom and gloom could die in Texas, at the edge of America
we kept moving down the road into Mexico
What a wild country
My God, he crowed, while grabbing the wheel - son of a bitch
We’ll find the promised land by the end of this road – God damn
you won’t believe the magic and wonder - What a wild country
We met this cool cat Victor by the side of the road
a ringmaster for sure – our Mexican hero
He fired up our furnace with spells and smoke
And then he told us where we could douse this hunger within
Neal was soaring into the sky like a statue of a great modern god
I was so damned high my eyes were pounding like the beat of a drum
he was an avalanche of words tearing by my side
and shining through the rear glass of the poor old car
We drove on
We drove on
That circus closed down when the mambo stopped
I was burning with fever. Couldn’t stand on my feet
Back at the pulpit, Neal was falling from grace.
That great God hit the ground running – he was leaving Mexico
What a wild country
My God, he crowed, while grabbing the wheel - son of a bitch
We’ll find the promised land by the end of this road – God damn
you won’t believe the magic and wonder - What a wild country
What a wild country
|
||||
9. |
The Old Gods
05:23
|
|||
|
The wind that blows on this side of the river,
this bold and cold new mean friend, was telling me Lies.
Lies about the other shore where I still saw myself kneeling down with proud devotion.
A falling star rushing along the land made me a slave to an old desire:
to take that road out to the west and bear witness to that boundless night.
A young god has fallen, I cried, and bent down with it I went back to my old house
and all the while I was hoping that Neal would find a way back to those old halls of wisdom and remembered me
I hear them now, vassals of the morning, bowed down to the stern illusion of the days;
their broken cups overflowing, while back at the palace, the old Gods feast on their bones.
I have poured libations of wine onto your grave and now I will burn my dancing shoes.
Nothing could make us whole again.
We will never be restored again.
I hear them laughing. I hear them laughing
a young god has fallen, I cried, and bent down with it I went back to my old house
and all the while I was hoping that Neal would find a way back to those old halls of wisdom and remembered me
Around the Great altar there is now a stillness,
and this penniless roman candle will have to wait another hundred years for the madman who set it on fire to return with the pearl
I have turned back to the old gods, of mortar and stone, but even with Neal long gone, beneath their laughter I still dream about the West of the American Night
|
||||
John Mercy Coimbra, Portugal
John Mercy is many things: Musician, record producer, recording engineer, multi-instrumentist, and also a member of the band a Jigsaw
If you like John Mercy, you may also like:
The Studio Recordings Part One
by Fly My Pretties
The New Zealand's collaborative group's first studio album is chock-full of delightful folk and country music.
go to album
String Theory
by Fly My Pretties
featured on Bandcamp Radio Nov 8, 2016
go to album
Darker Matter/// Mixtape 2
by Geoff Rickly
featured on Bandcamp Radio Jun 25, 2013
go to album
On this LP of gentle folk-pop, Durant looks to the water for the answer to life’s questions.
go to album
Prologue: The Farmer's Daughter EP
by We Are Baker
Baker is a new project from childhood pals Mishal Moore & Richard Cortez with a lo-fi, bluesy n' soulful southern vibe.
go to album
when the poems do what they do
by aja monet
Poet aja monet explores Black resistance, love, and joy with musical backing by Chief Adjuah, Weedie Braimah, Samora Pinderhughes, and more.
go to album
The latest album by Phill Reynolds, a project of Italian singer Silva Martino Cantele, takes listeners on an Americana-fueled musical ride.
go to album
