-Applehead back pack
-American Nail Umbrella
-Banjo Lump
-The Barn Attic Dullard
-The Battling Pigllist
-Berims
-Berjums
-Bingo Marvin
-Big Mouth Driesuhen
-Both Oars
-Brazen and Meticulous Pintle
-Brown Tools
-B'sau Sau
-BulkCue
-Bullerma
-Bullup
-Buytime
-Buttercup Lesson
-Chance Century
-Chapel Rimmer
-Chloras (or Chlora)
-Chicken Climber
-Christo B. Panim
-Chimney Pinch
-Clam'd
-Claytonia
-Cottypearile
-Country Thumcake
-Croakalypse
-Croq Braids
-Crap Hat Carson
-Cudskin
-Daydostuffice
-Darrieny Diddle O
-Dirt Sheet Sue
-Doey Bulch
-Dobersores
-Doxie Goodpatty
-Elk Possum
-Fawn Brodye
-The Felt Pelt
-The Four Armed Sheriff From Greenway
-The Flying Sluicebox
-Gripplea
-Gris Welled
-Groat Pulp
-Grub Caliber
-Gumfry Bullcue
-Gumfry Pumple Possession
-Hack Hack
-Ma and Pa Hair Ointment
-Harpfart
-Herding Pounds
-Horsemetia
-Horsepimp
-Hocrag
-Horse Pump
-Hotel Crisp Reads
-Hug Leg Lesy
-The Hundred-Mile Banner Man
-The Indian Tongue Wink
-Jib Lipprint
-The Knowledge Breadboxer
-Koy Coy
-Lake Shore Pelt
-Leaf Pants
-Leatherlip Luke
-Letter From The Heart Of The Spitstorm
-Log Mooner
-The Luminous Lump
-Log Groom
-Loud Amen Cushion
-Lousy Stinking Stanley
-Mangerugg
-Mold Certificate
-Mittens Samdrags
-M.L. Drinurne
-The Mole Certificate
-Mosie
-Old Ben Spayed
-Peoplepies
-Piddlestick Guillotine
-Pinkboy
-Pin Cusser
-PudGeist
-Pulpy
-Puppy Who Wounds
-Rarespit
-Regurgitotems
-Rim and Dot Raisers
-Roopy de Rupert
-Rungs
-Rim and Dot Raisers
-Shithouse Papermaid
-Silence Eater
-Silverbean
-Silver Stump
-Sink Me Augustus
-Slobberhouse Sock
-Soakmadill
-Sore Pony Lore
-Spider Compass
-Squire Marvin
-Stan Cakes
-Swearing Tar
-Testecott
-Temperance of the Flies
-Threadhold
-The Three Padded Brain
-Thunder Sun Dung
-Timber Amplifier
-Tip The Scales My Wayne
-Tisco Van
-Top Knot Tom
-Toothless And Twenty Four
-Trusted Knuckleman
-The Wells of Wallyton, VA.
-Vests of Skin
-Welcome To The Last Day On Earth
-The Western Hand Builder
-Woodpatty
-William Silverstumps
-Yacopper Neckashower
-Yeast Scroll
Influences
LYRICS TO "THE SABRE WAVING SARACEN WALL"
Scarecrows
and I worked on
the field but in the
long run naught. It
was naught my mind
travelled back one dark
road I sought. I recall on
the day when i was washed
over with fear, it first
touched me in falling
off a fence waving for
dirt in midair, but the
corn eating birds have
for my flying a laugh
no doubt. So I think back
to Turks and Sabres that
were thick with bracelets and
muscles and grips huge of thumb
and sabres. The swing of arms
made me run to the gurvey,
where i hid for the entire day.
Thusly, a wall I made that holds
paper Turk arms and sabres
scaring birds blood to freeze.
But the wind wound around
and blew into the ground, the
paper not holding against the
breeze. So I sent over for the
corpses of Saracens preserved
in fine oils and smokes, each
fitted with a sabre in hand
to have fear drop in and soak.
The wind yells up and down and
blows out candles and sings.
It will push the wall of arms
around the truck making arms
swing. Fight that day out and
away and behind the crows
menace they leave were
buzzards who wouldn't touch
plants, but certainly tore at
Saracen meat.
LYRICS TO "STRIKE THEM HARD, DRAG THEM TO CHURCH"
The LEVITTS had children that weren't exactly sane;
You'd try to ask them questions, their attention would wane.
Busted over the head and dragged on by the scruff,
Because on Sundays Levitts rested, only then enough.
STRIKE THEM HARD. Drag them to church.
STRIKE THEM HARD. Pull them to church.
You could bust them over the heads with gun butts,
Canoe and clubs; Nothing seems to sink in or hurt.
The CHURCH could calm those fleas with flute, and HYMNAL sound.
During the sermons gag those beasts! howling out like houndS,
They'd pinch, STAB, hit and poke, 'til each were purple and blue;
(Having to supply stronger OAK for the Levitts' personal pew.)
They started storming over something early one morning,
The youngest one crawling, looking. He ran four rows,
Head ducked down low, before his brow smashed in, wood busting.
The mess brought the others laughing and screaming, tearing up the place;
The FATHER said, 'Enough of this' and whipped
Them outside, driving them out of his Grace
This Open World opened them up to Open Minds
Devoid of slumber or peace. The first thing was to climb
Up and down, like working ANTS destroying a tall tree.
These branches came to waste and want not,
Because it helped build a guillotine.
The blade was wide enough to chop two HEADS off
With edges of books and plates dirty.
By digging a hole that was at the foot of the nearby orchard
Taking on an army of plum-laden trees with rocks for ammo.
Fingers that pulled up rocks and branches - From the pit, a new idea;
Spread out branches and rocks to make a picture of MOTHER on a hillside.
Split-wood teeth pointed, just like the bitter wood angry jaw
The mouth, a pile of shrubs and kindling fired to make a flaming maw.
As Levitts ran CRAZY up and across her terrible storm-wrinkled brow.
The hill would have burnt up completely
Unless their yelps, jumps and leaps contained somehow.
After five days of insanity including: Piggy Drags, Gun Blasts,
A broken leg, teeth left in the creek, Cloth burning, rope burn
Dirt war, porch bustling; Drowsiness put them to sleep.
It's a wonder no one was KILLED, including the onlookers
(Who could tolerate yet sustain). Those bruised messes were
Tied up and dragged to a stream where snow ran down.
Flute-tamed water dropped on pipes and made a somber sound.
The river had more life than a corral of horses bucking up forever;
Never had such a sound been heard, and never such an AUDIENCE the water.
The years rolled, one meal every day, followed by the other.
Young years left the youths, and the WEATHER
Honored the Brothers and Sisters. Their minds aging,
No longer MISCHIEF were they pursuing, for they had learned
To hammer logs and sometimes thumbs in the calm of aging.
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Christian
Editor & Journalist for Country Music Christian Lamitschka An der Pfingstweide 28 61118 Bad Vilbel Germany Phone: ++49 6101 544613 Mobil: ++49 171 6903352 Ch.Lamitschka@t-online.de Info@CountryMusic-Magazin.de
Hello, it's me, Ruby Jane. I am a 14 year old fiddler, songwriter. I have some songs posted that are fresh out of the studio..not mastered and pretty close to finished mixing. Let me know if you like the new songs..be one of the first to hear, even before they are released!Thanks! Ruby Jane
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