| 1. The
SOB in the Carvel Truck
2. Deer Hunter’s Blues 3. Polar Bears on the Moon 4. By Half 5. The Evidence 6. Wet July 7. When Change is No Longer Possible 8. Were They Happy? 9. Noir Bubble |
10. Water
Lights
11. Bridges 12. Play “Rocky Top” 13. Exposure 14. The Perfect Gig 15. La Senorita de la Launderia 16. Uncle Charlie’s Revenge 17. Last Call |
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The Cave, Chapel Hill, NC, November 15, 2001, by Bren Overholt as he recorded The Perfect Gig. |
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Bill's notes on the songs | |
1. THE SOB IN THE CARVEL TRUCK buy mp3
The SOB in the Carvel truck
Passed me on the right doing
75,
Heading up the beach to
Manteo, on a Friday late.
I got outa the way, I wasn't
in no rush,
& I watched him sway
and skitter and bounce,
I didn't hear no bells or
see no kids
But I kinda wanted me a
chocolate cone--
After he'd disappeared.
It was late in the season,
just before Labor Day,
And they roll em up when
that gets past,
And then it's just guys
layin' out on the beach
With a pole or three and
a box of Busch,
The sun in their eyes, and
salt on their faces,
Tough old birds and women
the same,
Tending a fire and sliding
bait on a hook,
Or sometimes when the tide's
just right
Tossing a net out into the
surf.
I was a couple of miles past
Canadian Hole,
There was a guy in a Speedo
out on a board,
And some people with glasses,
looking for birds,
And I wondered just where
those old salts came from?...
That you'd see out there
in a month or two,
With nothing to say and
a distant stare,
A torn plaid shirt and an
old beach chair,
Brown as bats, as leathery
too,
Laying out in the wind like
an old canoe.
I could feel the pull myself,
sometimes,
To just stand on the sand
and look and look,
I'd tell myself it was dolphin
I sook,
But I'd find my eye straying
out too far:
To that farthest line, to
the edge of the earth,
And my fingers would itch
to feel the twine,
The hum and twang as it
searched the surf,
The slightest twitch when
a cold fish mouth
Leaned in close to kiss
the hook.
And then I shook my head,
and gripped the wheel,
Thinking: "That was a close
one buckaroo!
Yep, that's the answer to
your mystery--
It's a deadly vortex, a
Bermuda effect,
Sucking you out of the life
you own
And dropping you down on
some spit of sand."
It made me sad for those
haunted old salts,
Caught in a Rapture they
couldn't comprehend,
And I made me a left over
Roanoke Sound,
Stopped at a Mart for a
chocolate cone,
And aimed my old Ford for
some more solid ground.
2. DEER HUNTER'S BLUES buy mp3
There
ain't nothing like whiskey in the shivering dawn, (reprise
first 2 lines at end)
Sitting
up in a tree, with your oranges on,
And
your fingers so stiff they feel they'd just snap
If
you push on them wrong--and you love it like that.
You
make every move as slow as you can,
You
keep your eyes open, your breathe soft and shallow,
You
cradle your Twelve Gauge, she's as sweet as a baby,
And
then it's a Ten-Point, and I don't mean maybe!
He's
nibbling the leaves, he's looking around,
An
Indian Prince, a discrete apparition:
His
coat is so perfect you're not sure if you see him,
Except
for his nose and his sparkling eye.
You
breathe even softer, he moves even closer,
A
breeze brushes your face, a leaf falls between you.
You
look down the barrel, drop your sight in the notch,
You
steady your shoulder, you click off the safety.
(Bridge)
And right at that moment, lasting nearly forever,
You
see millions and millions and millions and millions of barbeque grills,
And
millions of guys in plaid shirts and aprons,
And
millions of TVs with bright football games,
And
millions of cars going millions and millions of places,
With
millions of drivers with dour grim faces.....
And
after that moment is finally gone,
And
you look down the sights, Mr. Buck has done vanished,
Like
a rainbow, if you happen to turn your head for a second.
(break here)
The
sun's finally up now, and the forest floor's steaming,
And
you take one last sip and stuff your flask back in your pocket,
And
climb down the planks you nailed up on that tree,
And
walk out of the woods, and head on down to the Xrds,
For
a Pepsi, some Nabs, and a daily newspaper.
back
to the top
There are polar bears out
walking on the moon
You told me that one night
as we lay under the stars
The moon was there to hear,
but didn't say,
And today you are a thousand
miles away.
I'd like to be riding on
a train
But they don't run the trains
much any more, not down this way
They've taken up the tracks,
I couldn't even find the bed,
Not a cold steel rail where
I might lay my head.
It has always been a mystery
to me
What makes the heart go
leaping headlong when it hasn't got a brain,
It ought to know something
is wrong, but it only hears a song
And I guess it can't remember
all the pain.
I was looking at the polar
bears tonight
There was a momma and a
daddy and two babies in the sun
It was cold up there, and
infinitely bright,
But they were smiling in
their furry coats of white.
back
to the top
4. BY HALF buy mp3
I am an old brick mason and
I've traveled in my time--
I've rambled north, I've
rambled south, and up and down the line;
I've wandered east and wandered
west, I've been most everywhere,
I've seen some things would
make you weep, and some would make you stare.
And some would make you
stare.
In Baton Rouge a lady lived,
as best I can recall,
It was so very long ago
it could have been St. Paul.
At any rate she kissed me
with a rare and magic glance,
And I commenced to court
and spark as if I had a chance,
As if I had a chance.
Her ankle it was curved just
so, I never glanced her knee,
My heart began to patter
should her dappled mare I see.
And passing I would leave
a note, tucked neatly in her tack,
And hope I would that she
would read, much more to send one back,
Much more to send one back.
And this she did! I'll
ne'er forget, that lovely spring-time morn,
When rising with the early
bells I found a scented form,
All pink and blue and violets,
the message a cool draught--
"My love," she said, "my
love for you it grows and grows by half ,
"Each day it grows by half."
From thince the time flew
quickly, and the bricks rose from the floor,
I would stand upon my scaffold,
watch my love pass thru the door.
Our notes would fly, like
Luna moths, around the growing flame,
In every one she'd add a
half, and I would do the same,
And I would do the same.
The summer passed to autumn,
and the hotel it was done.
Where once there had been
half the bricks there now was not a one.
And where her arrow once
was seated well and to the mark,
I'd seen it fly until it
came to rest inside my heart,
To rest inside my heart.
But then she told me sadly,
that it was ne'er to be--
She had learned in mathematics
that tis falseness that we see--
For when an arrow's started
it must go by half, not all,
And from that it follows
clearly that it cannot start at all,
Oh, it cannot start at all.
Each building that I've started
has been finished in the end,
Each brick I've laid has
kept its place spite of the stoutest wind.
I've heard the lady's married
to some attorney from Dubuque,
With several lively children
and a terrier named "Duke."
A terrier named "Duke."
But I--I've long departed,
tho I'm not sure if I've went.
The road is long and winding,
but the journey isn't spent.
I've never loved another
like the girl who kept my heart,
And I've cursed the mathematics,
that tore us all apart.
It tore us all apart.
I am an old brick mason now,
I've traveled in my time--
I've rambled north, I've
rambled south, and up and down the line;
I've wandered east and wandered
west, I've been most everywhere,
I've seen some things would
make you laugh, and some would make you care.
And some would make you
care.
back
to the top
5. THE EVIDENCE buy mp3
Back in the black, when we
couldn't see,
The wind come thru like
a giant hand,
And all these trees whirled
twice around,
And fell like matchsticks
to the ground.
Curled close together, you
and I
Pulled the covers tight,
and I wrapped
My arms around your waist,
And buried your shoulder
in my face.
Our dreams roared on, like
barreled steam,
We flew down the slope like
Casey Jones,
Or, leaning together on
a high-banked turn,
Maybe like one of those
bobsled teams,
I can't remember. Was there
a wreck?
Did I hit my head?
Who's the president?
I've searched the house;
you're definitely gone.
Outside on the lawn there
are fallen trees.
(break)
And standing here, beside
the bed,
The sun blaring in like
the radio-clock,
The blankets are tangled,
the sheets are torn,
My hand brushes your pillow;
it isn't warm.
I'd follow your dream, like
a vapor trail,
I'd fly as fast as the wind
in the sky
If I could just find one
tiny clue,
Of where you've gone to
say goodbye.
But all I can find is the
evidence--
The sky is as still as a
July pond,
And as blue as infinity
ever gets,
If Muddy Waters were singing
this song.
(repeat vs. 1)
back
to the top
6. WET JULY buy mp3
Poured some salsa into a
silver bowl
Ate some chips and drank
another Equis
Put Miles on the stereo--Kind
of Blue--
Equis and enuie, they go
hand in hand with you.
Kind of Blue's so easy, in
a way--
Those guys: so completely
in control,
Sayin' each and every thing
they had to say,
One take wonders--on a sunny
summer day.
(bridge)
Made me think about Jack
Kerouac, I met him once--
A jazz-lovin' raving midnight
endless drunk--
I pushed his car out of
a ditch
And now his name has come
to mean,
A highly specialized form
of verbosity--(hey, life's a bitch).
This summer's been wet, so
far;
As wet as an all night midtown
New York bar.
As wet as all the tears
I've cried about our shit.
And damned if now it's August,
. . . isn't it?
At least this ain't no wistful
September Song,
At most it ain't no Funny
Valentine--
We're just sittin' right
here rockin' on the porch, with hurricane season comin' on,
And 'Trane and Miles and
all those cats are gone.
back
to the top
(chorus) E'reybody
running it as fast as they can,
Chuggin' it down and reachin'
for another,
'Bowin' their brother outa
the way
Like they can't be late
for their own funeral.
Look at the trees rushing
by out the window,
Look at the town, so pretty
and sweet,
Little picket fences, swings
on the branches,
Little Sunday dresses at
the lemonade stand.
(chorus)
Dappled sunlight thru the
dancing oak leaves
On the concrete sidewalk
where the stand sits perched,
And the four little girls
are counting their money
And their momma's calling
them home for church.
Somebody hollers, "You
better get on board.
The train's a leavin' and
it ain't coming back."
And you're half a mile from
the Birmingham station,
With an old guitar and a
fifty pound pack
.
(break) Pick up you
feet! Keep a runnin'!
You still got time to say
your prayers.
And leave your pack if you're
getting tired,
But you hold on tight to
that old guitar.
But here she comes: black
chain lightning.
Whizzing past at a hundred
and ten,
Wind in the weeds, sparks
and gravel,
Clickety-clank and she's
round the bend.
(chorus)
And it's a country road where
there ain't much traffic
An empty bottle rolling
'cross the floor,
A distant whistle when she
hits the tunnel--
That's it pal---there isn't
any more.
(chorus)
back
to the top
8. WERE THEY HAPPY? buy mp3
(chorus) Were they
happy, or just smiling, in the tattered photograph?
Were they standing on a
landing leading up or leading down?
Was his arm around her shoulders,
or just balancing his weight?
Along the water in Savannah,
what a beautiful old town.
I watched them walking down
the waterfront together
I'd followed them, behind,
for several miles.
Pappy taught me how to make
a rose,
A palm frond and a razor
blade,
I'm pretty good at sniffing
out a smile--
(chorus)
She'd go into a store and
he would stand outside alone,
Ioffered him a rose, he
only shook his head;
I said he could just have
it then (that always does the trick),
And made a second with the
razor blade--
(chorus)
I took their photo, but they
ran away
(I found a Polaroid camera
once along the bank),
The picture came out perfect;
I keep it in my box--
Every bedroom needs a little
decoration.
(chorus)
I like to sit alone and watch
the river,
The traffic on the arching
bridge upstream,
Heading north, to South
Carolina,
The people come and going
in my dream.
(chorus and end)
back
to the top
9. NOIR BUBBLE buy mp3
The overhead fan with the
missing blade
Cut thru the haze and the
honky-tonk,
Steel guitars and glittering
shades,
A broken window with bars
at the back,
That someone used to pass
a key sometimes.
Blues and country, back to
back,
DeSotos and Packards, Aces
and Eights.
Frankie Machine and his
golden arm,
And a cigaret that did no
harm
That I lit in your lips
at the end of love.
We could hear the scene like
a distant train,
We could see the street
cut apart by the slats,
We could know exactly where
Roger was
From when his light went
on and off,
We had it timed, we had
it pat.
For near three years our
time stood still.
Under his cowl he kept a
smile,
And he somehow seemed to
misplace his scythe,
Left it leaning behind some
mishung door
That wouldn't swing to on
a humid summer night.
And that's what got us, that
broken door,
The last alert, the noisy
hinge,
Silenced as sweat beneath
your skirt,
And the power off from a
thunder-surge,
When they came into the
room, and found you there.
I was down the hall, I got
away,
I heard the sounds, the
fatal shots,
The sandpaper laugh when
they uncovered your skin,
I didn't even stop to stare,
I never dealt another hand.
Yes, and that was the day
I quit the band...
That was the day I quit
the band.
back
to the top
10. WATER LIGHTS buy mp3
On a boat, in the night,
you might see a light
It might be red, or green,
blinking or white.
You can stand by the rail,
looking out through the black,
You can feel like a cat,
tied up in a sack,
But that one little light
will make everything right.
The water will hiss when
it's cut by the bow,
The gulls are like ghosts
as they sweep past the prow,
On a trawler 100 yards starboard
some guy
With a beard gives you half
of a wave as you pass
With your arms on the rail
and your eyes on the sky.
In the cars all around there
are people and sound--
Kids tired and restless,
lovers entangled,
Surfers and lawyers and
grammas with bangles
And ankle tattoos, it's
not an Ark it's a zoo,
And that one little light
is what's seeing you through.
At some point the other side
comes into view,
Lit by the red and green
harbor-mouth markers,
They're winking together
and then out of sync,
Like two heartbeats that
merge and then drift apart,
As we lie close together,
and silently listen,
Eyes shut tight, arms wrapped
around a new start.
back
to the top
After I'd burned all my bridges
again,
And headed to some other
government town,
Trapped with rank strangers,
where the fields had turned brown,
That's when they told me
that you were around.
I'd taken a job at the assayer's
office,
It was lab work and called
on some skills I had honed,
Way back in the silverstrike
days of November,
Way up in the North Country
bleakness of home.
You'd rode into town in your
4-wheeled Explorer,
Covered with dust, the grit
on your face,
And set up your shop at
Hotel L'Aventura,
'Mid whispers of diamonds
and rubies and lace.
In a heartbeat the boys were
all over your case,
And you spun out your stories
into garments so fair,
While I sat in my emptied-out
office and wondered,
Was it time to start packing
my knapsacks again?
I thought--What a fool!--that
you might come to see me,
In my microscope arsenic
leached the gold from the waste,
But I just couldn't focus
my heart to a distance
Where diamonds could equally
glitter as paste.
Now the train racks and rattles
down the Mexican canyon,
And cinders burn holes in
my ragged blue jeans,
In an hour or two I will
come to the jungle,
I'll stand on the platform
in an ocean of green.
And stare at the wanteds
for Ché and Zapata,
Faded and rotting but there
just the same;
A cigar in my teeth, to
keep off mosquitoes,
In a land where no one will
remember my name.
(repeat first verse.,
then d.c. first line)
back
to the top
12. PLAY "ROCKY TOP" buy mp3
Now I come down to this bar
every evening
I get here just about ten
I been tryin' to get a little
lovin'
Can't remember how long
it's been
So if you'll just do me
a favor
Play that song for me
I'll fix your car next Thursday
Throw in the lube and the
oil for free
(chorus) Play"RockyTop"
for the lady at the bar with the long red fingernails
I been tryin' all night
to get that girl, ole "Rocky Top" it never fails
I can't play no music, I
ain't got no hundred dollar bill
But if you'll just play
old "Rocky Top," I know that lady will.
Now some people think that
I'm stupid
That's all right with me
Some people can think about
anything they want
Just as long as they let
me be
I ain't got no education
and I don't know how to spell
But I know what a good dried
song sounds like
And I know how to raise
some hell
(chorus)
Well the money keeps getting
smaller
And the rent keeps going
up
I got me a little house
trailer
And a brand new blue tick
pup
I can't afford no regular
woman
So this is what I'll do:
You play "Rocky Top" for
me
And I'll sing this song
for you
back
to the top
13. EXPOSURE buy mp3
(chorus) Eee Ex Posure,
eeee ex posure, don't it sound so fine
Eee Ex Posure, like a real
fine wine
Mmmmmmmm, don't it slide
on down
Right on down to the ground,
Don't it sound eeeee exxxx
actly like money.....
Honey?
When you're gettin' out you're
gonna hear the word
& it'll drive you nuts
and it'll seem absurd,
But it's just the facts,
just the way it is:
If it's sho-nuff real then
it's both show-biz,
How they'll say to you with
a big slow grin,
And your hand in theirs,
and a fountain pen,
And when they use a big
nomenclature like "closure,"
Well, baby, that's just
another patois for...
(chorus)
See I was talking jack to
this dude in red,
He has this club that the
paper said
Was the only place that
you had to play,
And if you got that gig
it would be all ok.
And he knows, you know,
what is in your head,
And he's got your (umm)
"things" 'tween a rock and a stone,
So when the dough looks
mighty thin, no meat on the bone,
Why he's stuffin' your pockets
with...
(chorus)
I got done with the gig,
it was four AM,
I was packin' up when the
girl walked in,
Rollin' my wires and shuttin'
my case,
Not really expectin' some
brand new face--
In fact I was hopin' for
the guy in blue,
Who'd been back in the office
for an hour or two,
Countin' his take 's'what
I was figgurin,'
And here comes this honey
with a fifth of gin:
Singin' her song, and it
sound like...
(chorus)
You know the rest, less you're
seventeen,
I was back on the street
with a lack of green
And I couldn't find my fingerpicks,
And my car was towed, and
there was this dude
Dress up in black, with
a jones in his pocket
For the money I owed.
So I just skedaddled on
out of there,
And perused my reviews from
my easy chair.
And if you want to get rich
in the music game,
Just plant yourself out
front of the axe,
And don't go round back
for love or ambrosia,
Just tell 'em to do it all
for.......
(Alt. chorus) Eee
Ex Posure, eeee ex posure, don't she look so fine
Eee Ex Posure, for a real
good time,
Mmmmmmmm, don't it slide
on down
Right on down to the ground,
Don't it sound eeeee exxxx
actly like money.....
Honey?
back
to the top
14. THE PERFECT GIG buy mp3
I was lookin' for a bar,
just like Diogenes,
Full of drunks, but not
just any drunks, you understand:
Philosopher drunks, and
poet drunks--drunks trained by hand--
And beautiful women, they'd
be perfectly drunk, too,
Reclining against an upholstered
rail with absolutely nothing else to do.
(chorus)All
these folks would be there, all the live-long day,
And when I'd get good and
warmed up, I'd come in and play.
I'd sing all of my songs
for them, each and every one,
The sad ones and the happy
ones, the songs without a name,
And joy would fill the air
like fizz, in a good champagne.
The poets would all come
up to me, when I was done,
They'd shake my hand and
clap my back, we'd have some fun.
The philosopher drunks'd
smile knowingly, and tilt their glasses at me too--
Too shy to clap, at least
they wouldn't run.
They'd tidy up their tables,
and calculate the coming of the sun.
(chorus)
And all the beautiful women--they'd
line up at the door,
And carry my guitars out
to my car, one by one by one,
And kiss my lips goodnight,
Just like my mother did away back then,
When I was very young.
I just couldn't end it there--I'd
have to take them home,
And one would quote Spinoza,
and the other Des-car-tes,
And from the back a soft
sweet voice would whisper Sophocles,
And in the morning there'd
be coffee, on the patio, for four--
And I'd never ever go a
gigging anymore!
back
to the top
Por favor de no permitir
a los niños
Montar en o jugar los carritos
No, no montar en o jugar
con los carritos
You brush your beautiful
black hair out of your eyes,
You pour the quarters and
the soap in the machines,
And watch your little babies
nurse their bottles,
And chase each other round
and round the room
Por favor. . .
I wonder to myself where
did you come from?
How far did you travel,
to find yourself in here?
And have you left someone
so far behind you?
That you dream of in the
dark and silent night?
Por favor . . .
I cannot tell my wife of
my affection.
I am old enough to be your
great grandfather.
I watch you through the
spinning of the drier,
And make sure the babies
cannot slip outside.
Por favor. . .
And now your brother drives
up in his pickup;
You load the laundry and
the babies in the back.
I watch you ride away, a
little family--
As I dump the coin boxes
in the bag.
Por favor. . .
My little señorita
of the laundry,
Won't you come and visit
me tonite in dreamland?
Won't you call me once your
little tomatillo?
And rock me in your arms
till I'm asleep.
back
to the top
16. UNCLE CHARLIE'S REVENGE buy mp3
Uncle old-time Charlie threw
his fiddle up a tree
My brother told me 'simmons
was the thing that got his goat:
He'd sat there on the back
porch, drinking Elum tea,
And went he finally went
to eat there wasn't any soap.
There wasn't any victuals,
nor any silverware,
There wasn't any plates
nor cups nor no place to sit down,
There wasn't any table,
there wasn't any chair,
And his wife was in the
living room without no underwear.
(chorus)
Charlie, Oh Charlie, your
name will always be,
You took my grampaw's fiddle
and you throw'd it up a tree,
They say you ate the 'simmons
that had landed on the ground,
And when you pitched that
fiddle up they say you shot it down.
Well old-time Charlie looked
and looked, his house was awful strange,
The clock was running back'ards,
the upstairs felt like rain,
His couch was lying on the
floor his car was in the ditch,
He picked up grampaw's fiddle
but it wouldn't get in pitch
Old Charlie wound and tuned
and tuned, he twisted all them wires,
He put his E on Mercury
he put his G on Mars,
His head was spinning like
the Moon is spinning round the Earth,
He rosined up his bow a
spell but took an awful thirst.
(chorus)
By the time he got his pistol
out the 'simmon punch was gone,
The Sun has passed behind
the ridge, evening was coming on,
It took him twenty cartergize
-- ey god he got 'er down --
He dragged his leg into
the house and left er on the ground!
(chorus)
back
to the top
17. LAST CALL buy mp3
I was riding a train, or
maybe a bar,
In the winter of ought,
in the new century,
With Millennium Bud, and
phones without wires,
And my gal had gone off
with a life all her own,
Stead of being a hunnerd
percent homemakin' girl,
And as tough as I was wasn't
all that tough,
And I noticed my Bud had
gone flat at the end
Just like beers before 2000
tended to do,
And I looked at the clock
saying quarter to 2,
So I went off to bed with
myself.
Well work had got slow cause
I do it outside,
So I made it my work to
come night after night,
The 'tenders were friendly
and shown me a trick--
"Drink it faster," they
said, "and it never gets flat."
I'll have to admit they
were right about that.
(You might even want to
take note of this fact,
But remember--like a guy
also told me one time--
"You must keep in mind that
you can't drink it all.")
An expert's approach, if
there ever was one,
To the problem exposed by
the dreaded "Last call."
So anyhow one night a drifter
came in
And swayed down the aisle
in his long cowboy coat,
His spurs making tiny Oooommmm-ish
like notes,
And the moon making sparkles
on his buckles and irons,
And he sat down beside me
and ordered a brew.
"How far is this engine
takin' this rig?"
I asked him--a kind of a
"howdy" I guess--
And he looked at me gently,
like Clint Eastwood would,
And drew his revolver, gave
the chambers a whack
And said with a smile, "It's
a circular track."
This puzzled me greatly and
grieved me no end:
I had always believed we
were going straight up,
Or maybe straight down--it
depended on luck
And the good lord's intentions,
whatever they was,
And then there was whatever
the hell we might do,
With the millennimum intelligence
we was give--
But ole Clint he jes smiled,
and sucked on his smoke,
Like he thought it was some
kind o cosmical joke
And he sez to me, "Bud,
there's no reason for hope;
But then there's no particular
call for despair."
This astounded me more, I
was shocked and amazed,
And I must have looked startled,
as he chucked at my chin,
And ordered us both one
more for the road.
"Listen Bud," he repeated,
"it comes round again.
It goes over and over, the
whole blessed time,
Like wieners from Frosty,
like Coronas and lime.
Ain't no need to sweat it,
grab on and have fun,
There won't be no remembrin'
when next you've begun."
Then he vanished, a wraith
fading out in the air,
And that there is his coat,
lying over that chair.
And you can believe it, or
call me a liar--
While I have me a drink,
warm my feet at the fire!
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March
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February 3, 2010