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'You Were Right' ... Audio Clips
Sit
back and I will tell you a tale of woe Of
a people and a planet exploited for the dough There
are a few people who worship the gold Towards
their fellow humans their hearts grow cold
CHORUS It’s
a Global Economy! They say that it’s the way Pay
that Indonesian child a dollar a day Forests
are commodities, so is the dirt I
ask you when has innocence been put to such a hurt? That’s
right I’m talking about a thing called free trade But
it’s with the devil that the deal has been made Because
all environmental laws get the WTO If
you want a workers union well my friends that’s a no go Then
there’s the NAFTA, about all I got to say Is
pay Juan and Maria very few pesos per day Democracy
is their problem if people’s words give birth A
culture should only matter if it produces money worth
CHORUS Let’s
talk about the candidates, one guy named Gore Wrote
a very nice book all the Greens adored But
when he got the office he was like all the rest Because
expanding the corporate profit margin is the thing Al does best Then
there’s another one, a fella named Shrub Had
some “youthful indiscretions” but now he’s anti-drug He’s
signing Texas death warrants acting like Darth Vader Some
call him compassionate, that’s why I voted Nader
CHORUS So
now we’re all living with the high technology They
tell me that the Internet gonna make us all free While
they build more prisons, lock up the opposition It’s
the transition for their profit-making mission George
Bush Sr. was right, there is a new world order If
you ain’t in compliance they’ll be knocking down your border But
somewhere the Earth weeps, She’s crying for her children She’s
crying for their spirits, She’s crying for their burden Chris
Skyhawk: Vocal, Guitar, Congas Mike
Ehlers: Harmony Vocal, Lead Guitar Antonia
Lamb: Banjo Lily
Parsons: Bass Catfish Jack: Harmonica
I first wrote this one in 1994. Clinton was President and we were dealing with
NAFTA and GATT (which like a bad horror movie later morphed into the WTO).
I have had to change the lyrics a bit over time to keep up with the
changing faces of this modern day tragedy, and I am afraid the issue is getting
worse although I have Native American friends who remind me that the issue has
been getting worse for at least 500 years. Mike sings harmony and plays
some hot lead guitar. We doubled up a couple of his leads at the end for a
monster finish-a sort of Allman Brothers goes political type of thing. Antonia plays banjo. In a humorous moment, when I am singing the part about Al Gore
she just plays a “D” chord over and over-she says that is all he deserves.
Catfish plays some soulful harp, and Lily is right there with the strong bass. I
did the percussion work on this one.
She
comes home from work, brushes her hair Pretty
soon the kids will be home and shouting everywhere They
will want their food heated in a pan Familiar
aching in her gut, she does not know a man
CHORUS Rainbow
horses, rainbow horses, rainbow horses in a dance He
looks in the mirror, straightens his tie Doing
what his daddy told him to he hardly knows he’s alive He’s
got a lot to do, deals to make He’s
so far gone for so darn long he hardly knows that he aches
CHORUS A
little child girl steps off the bus No
one home for the younger ones, she’ll do what she must The
sweetness of this child inside slowly dies With
nobody there to care for her will the light remain in her eyes?
CHORUS A
city sleeps at night, a child once born Now
he lies in raggy old clothes only a bottle keeps him warm The
promise that he brought lies in a heap He
seeks drunken visions of ancestors, their bones lie under the street
CHORUS The
song remains unknown, what does it mean? With
so many lost and so many hurt, is it really all bad dreams? Whatever
comes to pass this much is true A
sacred breath it lies in wait just around the corner in you Chris
Skyhawk: Vocal, Guitars Lily Parsons: Bass, Harmony Vocals
There was an annual encampment near where I used to live that was called the
Rainbow Horse Dance. Every year I would go by it and see the signs along the
road on the appointed weekend. I never attended, but one time I brought them
some supplies and learned that it was based on this vision that a Native
American man had about all the tribes of earth coming together as one, and he
had seen multi-colored horses, each representing one of the races of human
beings. This vision has intrigued me to no end across the years and I ended up
with this song. Lily accompanies me on this one with her bass and an absolutely
angelic two-part harmony.
LONG
TALL GREEN PLANTS
Come gather round listen to my story please Of
my home where ocean meets redwood trees Seaweed
dance on a tidal sway Where
whales and seals frolic and play Hawks
ride ridges on a thermal dance Where
deer and cougars across meadows prance Many
rivers there run to the sea While
on the land in spring we plant seed
CHORUS Long
tall green plants shining in the sun Dry
‘em up,smoke’em when the flowers get done Rainbow
crystals shimmer in the light Fire
up a bowl make you feel just right
Saw
a friend driving down the ridge When
his truck broke down not far from the bridge Off
to town we went for some parts The
goodness of the earth brought a swelling to our hearts Stopped
by Sita’s community garden Where
many good folks were organic farming Ate
some corn and tomatoes Oh!
What a blessing making living things grow
CHORUS World
keeps moving faster everyday Keep
spoiling our earth our children will pay World
trade free trade technologic heyday Some
of us resist ,its in our DNA Praise
to the spirit of the THC Helps
us remember just to play and be Folks
are gonna say I’m an illegal fool But
I don’t need a cop to tell me what to do
CHORUS At
the end of the day when the sun goes Friends
come over, gather all around They
come down the ridges from far and near Bringing
wild mushrooms and microbrewed beer Someone
plays a guitar and a mandolin There’s
a fiddle, a conga, singers chime in We
all tell stories while we laugh and cry Then
someone rolls a fatty, it’s time to get high
CHRIS
SKYHAWK: Vocals, Guitars Lily
Parsons: Bass Antonia
Lamb: Banjo Roger
Fritz: Mandolin Maria Vilaboy: Harmony Vocal
A celebration of the North Coast’s finest agricultural product. This plant has been providing people with food, fiber, and medicine for countless millennia. I wish they would just legalize it and save everybody a lot of trouble, but I suppose some folks would not be comfortable if things started going right. We had a lot of fun recording this one. Antonia pulled off a “Cripple Creek” feeling on the banjo that infects the entire song with giddy joy. Lily plays bass like it was a reggae song, Maria joins me on the vocals, and Roger kicks in a beautiful mandolin. The “Old McDonald” portion of the song is actually me coming up with five different voices that we mixed together. Calvin drove me mercilessly to come up with those voices, and we laughed so hard our sides ached.
I’d rather ride a horse than ride a rocket ship To me those rockets are just technological bullshit Give me something alive between the knees Man and animal running through the breeze Those scientists in the lab they’re looking for DNA Even when they find it the question still remains Give me the beat of the Shaman’s drum That’s all I need to know where I’m from Technological Bullshit! It’ll take you for a ride When you need some research instead of looking deep inside Global warming is OK, they say that maybe toxins aren’t so bad Technological Bullshit! Is violence to the land I'd rather ride a horse than drive around in cars Some say a rocket is the only way to Mars Open up to the cosmic beam All that power lies in our dreams Is the world improving? Have things really changed? Have nukes made us better? Are we all deranged? Live with the waste for thousands of years They say “Oh don’t worry, we can bury it right here.” Technological Bullshit! Give cancer to rats Then we’ll know what to eat, electroshock that cat Shoot hairspray in dogs eyes, they are less than us Fry up that chimps nerves to learn what we must
Chris Skyhawk: Vocal, Steel National Guitar, Shaker, Elderberry Clapper Lily Parsons: Bass Catfish Jack: Harmonica
A song about the perils of technology. One of my favorite paintings is by a
local lady named Suzanne deVue. In
it an astronaut is on a space walk outside his ship. He has the space suit, an
oxygen cord: outside the ship is a shaman in full-feathered regalia. I often
laugh at the sci-fi movies that depict the aliens coming down here and doing
horrible experiments on us. The audience recoils in fear, yet if we consider the
way we treat laboratory animals we had better hope that some technologically
superior aliens are a lot more compassionate than we are or we will be screwed
by our own precedent. Calvin has a beautiful antique steel National Guitar that
fit this song perfectly. One of the percussion instruments is an Elderberry
Clapper, an instrument that is used by the Pomo Indians in their traditional
dances. Lily rocks out with her bass, and Catfish is downright evil on the
harmonica.
Born
in a time when freedom echoed off every mountain When
the only sounds to be heard were earths own rhythms Buffalo
roamed as far as the eye could see And
the sky was occupied only by eagles And
the land knew no scars No
barbed wire to tie her down No
huge open pit machines ripping her womb And
honor was a known and expected commodity They
say you were born on the banks of a small creek
That
flowed from those hills from which your power came Small
in size and fair of hair belied the greatness to which you would succumb A
greatness that sourced from the center of life itself A
greatness that still speaks to us today As
we try and live in this world with no center, no respect for living things Earth’s
agony and grief ring out to you in these words….
CHORUS Crazy
Horse, you were right! You
knew about the realms of power and might Lines
on a map, what do they mean? Some
greedy rich white man grabbing more green But
our Mother Earth, she can not be bought or sold As
a young man you began to gather your medicine Praying
to spirit to make you true, a man of the people You
grew through the years in strength and wisdom until your voice became that of
the earth itself Power
of hawk, power of mole your allies in life and war A
war forced upon you by men who thought that gold was worth That
trees were money, that land could be parceled And
the earth itself were dead If
it was war they wanted it was war you could deliver None
were stronger than you in the fight to stay free Yet
how many times did you endure the horror and indignity Of
soldiers sweeping down upon sleeping villages Women,
children, old ones killed indiscriminately in their own homeland Not
even the dream world you entered could spare you this grief, nor your people But
who could have foreseen the blind force of the monster bent on destroying
everything?
CHORUS In
the dead of winter they came for you, saying they just wanted to talk Yes
it was cold, but colder still in their hearts As
they lead you secretly to the cage in which they wished to imprison you Wishing,
as always, that they could contain freedom Perhaps
you were a mirror for them To
lost in the self-hatred of their reflection they had to imprison you But
of course you would not go And
as the bayonet pierced your back every eagle on earth screamed in unison with
you So
now you are no longer with us Perhaps
you’ve gone to a world that knows your worth Is
there a place ruled by eagles? Then surely that is where you dwell You
would not live in this world as a prisoner and for this they killed you But
here, tonight, as these stars shine and this precious wind blows Your
presence is felt You
live on because at least of a drop of your blood flows through the veins of
earths lovers everywhere Chris
Skyhawk: Vocals, Guitar, Slide Guitar, Hoop Drum, Shaker, Harmonica Antonia Lamb: Banjo Heather Leigh: Background Vocal
Over the years I have managed to travel to the South Dakota/Wyoming area a few
times. It always feels more like a pilgrimage than a vacation. The land there is
rich in history and power. This song is a compilation of some stories I gathered
and experiences I have had in my times there. I did most of the instrumentation
on this one. Antonia joins me with a spare and reverent banjo, and Heather does
a touching and beautiful background vocal at the end.
Last night I had a vision, came to my heart true Wind and stars instructed me to share it all with you All the fathers of the earth said there’d be no more We’ll never let you make our sons fight in another war They spoke to all the presidents, premiers and parliaments Every imaginable branch of every government They said “for thousands of years we’ve let you take our boys away, We’re here to serve you notice that things change upon this day The veterans, they spoke about the horrors they had seen Horrors hidden in their hearts never before washed clean As they spoke the listeners were grieving everywhere All agreed it was no cross we’d want our sons to bear The women and the children danced with joy upon the news That men had decided there’d be no more war abuse That boy’s lives would be valued for the love they could create That boy’s lives would be valued for the love they could create Every time I see my son my heart swells with pride And I know his place is right here by his father’s side Though I can help him be as strong as he needs to be I pray they’ll never make him kill in another country I pray they’ll never make him kill in another country Chris Skyhawk: Guitar and Vocal
When I was a boy I was alarmingly patriotic. Raised on a steady diet of World
War II movies on Saturday afternoons, I decided I would gladly kill or be killed
for my country. It was all pretty noble stuff. When I got older the veneer began
to crack as I learned about our horrible military interventions that had nothing
to do with freedom and everything to do with dominance. I began to see that at
the very least things were more complicated than I had been led to believe. As
my own son has grown I have come to admire the pure nobility and instinct that
most boys naturally possess that directs them to love and protect all that is
beautiful, and the sacrifices they are willing to make in that pursuit. It seems
to me that the fathers must lead the way here, to compose a new definition of
manhood that encompasses a masculine definition of beauty, art, poetry, and
love. It staggers my imagination to wonder what could happen if we can unleash
this force upon the world. It is a world I would like to see, and a brotherhood
of men that I choose to participate in.
I met a Senorita, shared tequila with me While her man was a-fishin’ in a boat out at sea Later on in the evening when she had me well fed She pulled back the covers, asked me into her bed Lovely Senorita, we rocked through the night Witness to our love was the silver moonlight When we woke in the morning we both with joy moaned The strength of this union, felt like I was still stoned Concerned Senorita said her man would return And though she loved two feared that I might get burned That is when I informed her I thought sharing was cool And playing well with others I’d been doing well since school Curious Senorita, she was intrigued by this That monogamy was not high on my list Upon further confession neither one of us straight So many possibilities, seemed like this might be fate Alas the Senorita she did not come through She made her decision to love one and not two So I’m left with the memory of the silver moonlight And the way our kisses put spirit to flight
This is a sweet little love song about an almost-but –not-quite ménage a
trios. Although it did not work out as I had hoped, as my banjo playing
friend Antonia Lamb would
say “Well, at least you got a song out of it”.
Still, the senorita was lovely, the moonlight unforgettable , and hope
sprang eternal in my twisted little mind. When I first wrote the song I really
had no expectation of recording it or playing it publicly. I was a bit shy about
putting my unconventional nature out there in such a public manner, and I did
not expect that anyone else would find my polyamorous explorations all that
entertaining or enlightening. When the song started coming together I played it
for a few different friends who surprised me by loving it so I pursued
tightening it up and it ended up on the cd. The tune is a lovely little Tex-Mex
riff I had been playing for years often thinking that one day I just might hang
some words around it. It turned into a pulsing kind of waltz, and I ended up
loving the simple elegance that evolved as we recorded it. Without Eli's Spanish style guitar work
it would have been a different song.
Maria accompanies me vocally with an enchanting high harmony. We all
thought that the song could have used a tuba for added authenticity but since no
one knew of any tuba players around our neck of the woods it was agreed that
Lily would have to play her bass like a tuba player would play a tuba.
Maybe next time I will have that Mexican horn section together.
I
walked through the forest ‘twas verdant and green A
stillness ran through me a vibrant scene ‘Til
I came upon something I was not prepared for Left
wishing for green that’s what I wanted more A
landscape of destruction confronted me As
far as I could see there was not a tree Black
topsoil was ready to rush into streams And
the land she screamed a silent
scream
CHORUS Darling
I saw the clearcut they ripped it up good I
saw the clearcut they wanted the wood For
bleached papers ,houses, and toiletries Darling
I saw the clearcut they killed all the trees
Nearby
was working a prison camp crew Clearing
off slash they had lots to do Seeing
this work that was done by the prisoners I
couldn’t help thinking how we all were sinners Believing
the lie that a tree is just a crop Keep
building those houses we don’t have to stop Never
understanding that the forest holds our soul The
death of our own bodies we don’t want to know
CHORUS I’ve
heard it said when some people cut trees They
pray to the stars and they always say please In
this day and age we pray to stockholders Homebuilders,
the markets, and forest land owners I
wondered who’s responsible for this tragedy The
forestry official looked me right in the eye He
said “Don’t be a fool son, that tree’s not alive” But
I say power should not be given to men who don’t cry
Chris
Skyhawk: Vocals, Dulcimer, 12 String Guitars Lily Parsons: Pennywhistle
I took a trip to British Columbia in 1988. My partner and I took the back roads
through Oregon and Washington and were just devastated by what we saw- miles
upon miles of naked brown and bleeding earth. It was something that my mind
still is not able to grasp. In the 1990’s the rate of deforestation in B.C.
for a time exceeded any place on earth. Back in California I got increasingly
involved in the struggle to save some remnant forests and I know first hand the
devastation reaped by corporate timber. And when they are done they just move
on, leaving whole communities economically devastated.
In Caspar Creek in Mendocino County where I now live, the State of
California decided that they wanted to do an experiment-they wanted to know what
would happen if you clearcut an entire watershed. So they proceeded to do just
that, all the while taking scientific samples of the increased siltation, salmon
death, etc. I came upon this devastation one day while on a hunt for wild
mushrooms and ended up with this song. I have often thought that our ecological
problems are actually spiritual ones-only a people with no understanding of
their place in the universe could do such a thing. I believe that change comes
when we wage a battle on many fronts, but if and when we come to understand that
connection many of our problems are going to solve themselves fairly quickly.
When I play this song live I usually do it with my guitar and harmonica, but
here we used an Appalachian dulcimer along with a couple of different 12 string
guitar parts that fattened it up. Lily plays a haunting pennywhistle at the end
that drives the tragedy of the situation home.
Our
schools today are so sensitive they teach Indian history They
tell our children of hunters and salmon, the way things used to be They
show them the baskets, the corn and the pueblos but never do they say how they
died They’d
rather go to Germany to discuss holocaust while we all keep on living this lie (and
that’s because)
CHORUS History
still goes on today, don’t you know it never went away Just
ask Bear Lincoln and Leonard Peltier Mr.
Peabody’s coal train still hauling Dine paradise away And
the legacy of betrayal goes on In
Mendocino County there is a place that’s called Round Valley When
European’s first arrived there lived many thousand Yuki Ten
years later there were only about 900 of them left To
this very day about this genocide most Americans remain deaf (and
that’s why)
CHORUS In
April of ’95 three men were killed, one of them was the law “Shoot
to kill” Eugene Bear Lincoln was sheriff Jim Tuso’s call His
men went crazy, like modern day cavalry with their helicopters and guns They
put guns to the heads of children and elders so we said “Run Bear,run!” (run
Bear, because)
CHORUS Our
D.A. Susan Massini was no better with lies and sleight of hand After
Bear turned himself in she decided to call up the Jury, Grand She
told them some lies, she omitted some truths, and the facts she got all bent When
she ran for judge we rewarded her with a vote of only a small per cent (Yo!
Susan!)
CHORUS Even
though there is hardly any of it left they still want the Indian lands To
cut down the trees, to open up mines, perhaps construct a dam They
do not care that in their pursuit of profit millions have already died Our
native hearts are left to wonder, when will greed be satisfied? (they’re
making sure that)
CHORUS Lakota,
Mohawk, Cheyenne, Wilaki, the list goes on and on Of
tribes persecuted by our government, they keep adding on to all of their wrongs Although
you don’t have to be Indian, just stand up for earth and you’ll see what’s
going on That’s
what Judi and Darryl found out when the F.B.I. did that bomb (they
found out that) Chris
Skyhawk: Vocal, Guitar Antonia
Lamb: Banjo Jesse
Modic: Fiddle Heather
Leigh: Harmony Vocal Nathan Anderson: Percussion
Round Valley is a beautiful gem of a place in eastern Mendocino County. For all
its natural beauty it also has a history of massacre and genocide comparable to
any place in the U.S. The first white men to arrive on the scene immediately
killed 40 Yuki who came to greet them. It eventually became a sort of
concentration camp for 7 tribes who still reside there today. Forced to live
together under squalid conditions, and living under the threat of kidnappings,
slavery, and unquestioned racism, these tribes also found their natural
differences exacerbated by their oppression. This song tells the story of Eugene
“Bear” Lincoln, who was accused of killing a Sheriff’s Deputy after his
friend Leonard “Acorn” Peters was killed by 2 deputies under disputed
circumstances. Bear spent 2 years in jail while his trial went on. He was
eventually found innocent. The case exposed a pattern of deception and
incompetence among the justice apparatus that was so profound that 9 of the 12
jurors later spoke out at public forums about what they had seen. The next
election found our county with a new District Attorney and Sheriff. However, all
did not end on a hero’s note for Bear Lincoln. About 2 years later, in a
drug-induced rage, he fired bullets into the occupied home of an old rival. He
is currently serving a 5-year term in San Quentin. The Legacy Of Betrayal does
go on, and history still weaves a tangled and painful web for all who were
engulfed in these terrible incidents.
I’ll
tell you a story about a guy who steals cash Before
anyone could nail him he made off in a flash Bought
out a company called Pacific Lumber Since
Charlie came along it’s really been a bummer
CHORUS Charlie
Hurwitz Charlie Hurwitz, rip off the pension fund Charlie
Hurwitz, Charlie Hurwitz, killing the forest is fun Once
our forests grew strong, the trees reached for the skies Charlie
came along and filled the rivers with mudslides Trees
were cut slowly so we’d prosper for a long time Like
Christopher Columbus Charlie said “Right now it’s all mine.”
CHORUS Charlie
got a friend by the name of John Campbell
Everywhere
that Johnny go be spreading he lots of bull In
public he love nature, says he cares about the planet But
on his dartboard there is a picture of a Murrelet
CHORUS Charlie
got a spokeswoman, her name Bullwinkle, Mary The
gap between her words and facts is so large that it’s scary She
talks so sweet you’d think her words were dripping honey While
Charlie Hurwitz, he pockets all the money
CHORUS It
seems that Charlie is so rich he lives inside a bubble His
paid-off friends protect him even though he causing trouble I
know some of those loggers like to blame the Earth First! But
I just got to say that it was Charlie stole the purse
CHORUS Since
Maxxam came along I hardly know what to do All
this Old Growth falling leaves me feeling down and blue There
are some of us who say Charlie should pay for his crimes Charlie
he just laugh he say “Rich people don’t do time”.
CHORUS Chris
Skyhawk: Vocals, Guitars Antonia
Lamb: Banjo, Harmony Vocal Heather
Leigh: Marimba, Harmony Vocal Jesse
Modic: Fiddle Nathan Anderson: Congas
A story about a Corporate Raider who would make the robber barons from the days of yore quite proud. In 1985 the formerly family-owned Pacific Lumber was taken over by the Maxxam Corporation of Charles Hurwitz. Charlie had done fairly well for himself in the Savings and Loan debacle from the 1980’s, and he had a little extra cash laying around. P.L. had made the mistake (in a business sense) of logging relatively sustainably, which meant they had a lot of assets ripe for the taking. Despite years of public outrage, this company has been run into the ground. In a remarkable example of how money subverts our political and social process, Hurwitz has thus far prospered while our environment and economy have suffered and activists have been harassed and even killed. In recent years, Kaiser Aluminum was also taken over by Maxxam and stripped of much of its assets. Workers from the United Steel Workers Of America had had enough and took Hurwitz on in a labor confrontation that they eventually won, although they continue to be harassed. During the time they were locked out they sent delegations to the North Coast to work with environmentalists in areas where there was common cause. The result was a new organization- the Alliance For Sustainable Jobs and the Environment (www.asje.org) which currently works out of Portland, Or. Jim Lamb was the recording engineer on this one. We mixed in Heather’s Marimba with the more traditional folk instruments and a new musical hybrid was formed-Coconut Bluegrass!
My
love she comes in the morning dew With
a love as big as the ocean blue Wakes
me up, takes me by the hand Says
“come on sweet boy, won’t you be my man” A
hot love wave then it cools on down A
little while later it comes back around Need
of the pleasure won’t be denied Oh
what a joy when there’s no where to hide La
la la la la la…………
CHORUS I
know the world can be a big harsh place It’ll
wipe that smile right off your face But
the circles of love are like a spiral dance Coming
straight from the earth, it gives us all a chance See
it gleam in a child’s eye See
it soar in a hawk so high See
it crash in an ocean wave See
it gone from the body buried in the grave La
la la la la la………. Sense
its presence in a breath of air When
you turn to look there’s nothing there Travels
with a force that has no name Casts
joy and sorrow yet there is no blame La
la la la la la…………
CHORUS
Chris
Skyhawk: Vocals, Guitar, Tambourine Lily
Parsons: Bass Catfish
Jack: Harmonica Roger
Fritz: Mandolin Mary Vilaboy: Harmony Vocal
This is a song about that great feeling you get when you wake up in the morning
next to someone you love, and from there the circles of love just keep spiraling
outward until it encompasses everything- life, death, and the mystery of this
wonderful earth. Roger plays about as sweet a mandolin as has ever been heard on
this one. Catfish nails a joyous and rockin’ solo. Lily happily bounces around
with her bass, and Maria can la,la la with the best of them.
You
told me that you loved me, seems that wasn’t true For
the love of another you left me down and blue Your
tender words of love and care a small breeze blew away I
don’t know how you did it babe, but you made night from day
CHORUS You’re
gonna be sorry you turned your back on me You’re
gonna be sorry just you wait and see You’re
gonna be sorry when you see my name in lights You’re
gonna be sorry you ain’t got me at night I’m
going to a 24- hour gym and chisel on my frame A
rippled stomach with sculpted biceps, I will not be tamed And
as I pose for the camera you will be thinking dear “He
was once between my sheets, I could have had him near”
CHORUS Soon
I’ll have a record contract with these great songs I write Ballads
of tender joys and pains and love that burns so bright With
a blazing flatpick and finger picking so divine As
I play Nashville and Austin you’ll think “He once was mine”
CHORUS I’m
going to India and study my Hindu I’m
going to have a sweatlodge and take Peyote too I
guarantee you baby that I’m going to ascend |
