a cranky old bagpipe sitting on the shelf, an honest deliverer ready to help
the puddle of songbirds singing on the rim, driftin' luke knows
everyone and everyone knows him
trying to write plenty for the world to sift, trying to tell stories,
and through tears uplift
trying to decide between home and the road, met up with a leatherbag load
turned dusty gems into shiny life-savers, bitten by snakes and wild alligators
tortured by texas girls wadin' in the water
trying to impress the rich man's daughter
poor man's blues, kazoo's and banjo's
mandolins, harmonies, and old pianos
make up the mold of the songs about loss
and gloss and no bridges to cross
no bridges between, and none to burn
it all worked together, and took its turn
coming straight to you like a bear on a horse
after deciding its musical course
brothers in arms and and nothing between
that's how it's done in texas
two mammoth marshals sitting down
one got jealous because the other got crowned
king of the writers of songs they say
he called the other out in the middle of the day
Hear ye, hear ye, read all about it
king kong and godzilla are gonna bout it out
the ali and frazier of the lone star state
pulling their punches at a steady rate
luke and leatherbag, when they cross paths
people gonna end up needin' baths
from the ink and paper getting slung around
but all i can hear is a lonesome sound
$8 (includes shipping inside the USA. please contact c.siderecords(at)gmail(dot)com about international orders.)
