1. |
Silver City
04:58
|
|||
In the bowels of New York City
On the eve of the Civil War
There was born a Henry McCarty
To an Irish woman of lore
Henry was a mild mannered child
Until the age of fourteen
When he laid his mother down
From the White Plague Disease
[she lies] In Silver City, New Mexico
300 miles south of Santa Fe
As a kid they called him Antrim
He was a slender seventeen
Real quick with a sixgun
A gambler and a horse thief
He killed Frank "Windy" Cahill
A blacksmith by trade
He shot him down in a quarrel
With an old Colt .38
[he fled] to Silver City, New Mexico
300 miles south of Santa Fe
It was winter in Lincoln County
The year 1878
When a sheriff named William J. Brady
Was shot down in the Lincoln "debate"
A notch in a left-handed holster
Of one young beardless kid
An outlaw, a left-handed cowboy
Sentenced to be killed
In Silver City, New Mexico
300 miles south of Santa Fe
A notch in a left-handed holster, of one young beardless kid
The Outlaw, The Left-handed Cowboy... named Billy the Kid
|
||||
2. |
||||
When I was a young boy, some lady thought I was a girl
She asked my younger sister, "who's your younger sister little girl?"
Well I cut my hair that very day, and my daddy taught me how to use a razor blade
I grew myself a beard, and when I was fifteen I had it in a braid
And by 17 I was headed west, just a hobo on a train
I got myself a job pouring concrete on the docks down by the bay
When I was a young man, somebody told me I looked stoned
He asked me for a hit of it, but I told him "I'm afraid I'm running low"
He didn't like the sound of that, so he grabbed my long blonde hair and he told me so!
He kicked my ass so bad that day, that I hopped a train and I rode the railroad home
By 25 I was headed East, just a beat up hobo on a train
But I knew my Ma would take me back if I cut my long blonde hair and got a shave
Now I am an old man, but I ain't learned that much at all
I got grey hair 'til my shoulders, and my beard has been the cause of many brawls
Now my momma, she don't like me.
And my daddy always said that I was slow
But I blame it on the whiskey, and all those crazy things that got me stoned
I've been sober for a year now, but I've been sober for a year before
I'm just a beat up old hobo, and that whiskey is my only hope
I'm just a beat up old hobo, and that railroad is my only home
I'm just a beat up old hobo, a beat up old hobo
I'm just a beat up old hobo, a beat up old hobo
|
||||
3. |
Fears of My Father
04:01
|
|||
Faith of my brother, rely not on sight
Be not like the day, be more like the night
Give back to others what does not belong
Faith of my brother be strong
Kiss of my lover, be soft and be sweet
Taste not of others, but always of me
Be not like the winter, be not like the storm
Kiss of my lover be warm
Weight of my trespass, weigh not on my heart
Or the sin in my veins will tear me apart
Just as the darkness evades us at dawn
Weight of my trespass be gone
Fears of my father and the roots of my fate
The dread of the silence and the stains on my blade
|
||||
4. |
Pocketwatch Patrick
04:10
|
|||
Pocketwatch Patrick, you shifty old fox
Like a thief in the night
I spent my purse on a dream and a girl
At dawn she was nowhere in sight
Patrick, you be the devil
Way down deep in my soul
You're the sun in the desert
Where only death can grow
Pocketwatch Patrick, you dirty old thief
You take the leaves from the trees
I can't see much through these crowfoot eyes
but I see my ghost on the breeze
Patrick, you got something
You got something of mine
You done took all my youth from me
You done took all my time
Patrick, you be the devil
Way down deep in my soul
You're the sun in the desert
Where only death can grow
|
||||
5. |
Sunshine Hill (Winter)
05:35
|
|||
There's skills in these bones
Skills in these bones
But the tendons will not hold
I honed these skills on a park bench on top of Sunshine Hill
There's skills in these bones
Skills in these bones
But the tendons will not hold
I lost my will when winter came down on Sunshine Hill
There's beauty in these bones
Beauty in these bones
But the interest comes and goes
I've had my chances, plenty of glances
There's beauty in these bones
Beauty in these bones
But the interest comes and goes
I've lost romances by taking stances
There's tension in these bones
Tension in these bones
Like a mannequin posed to run
I'm in transition, and Lord I've been here for a while
There's tension in these bones
Tension in these bones
Like a mannequin posed to run
I've been jobless, I've been sidelined for a time
There's dreams in these bones
Dreams in these bones
Kept alive but never told
I chased a feeling, came up short on the dealing
There's dreams in these bones
Dream in these bones
Kept alive but never told
I've let some go, that I could have caught; I guess we'll never know
There's skills in these bones
Skills in these bones
But the tendons will not hold
I honed these skills on a park bench on top of Sunshine Hill
I lost my will when winter came down on Sunshine Hill
|
Steel Audrey Vancouver, British Columbia
Steel Audrey is a country-folk artist with a “rustic, old world sound packaged inside the cargo car of a freight train...” (Songoid). His ability to tell a story through song is reminiscent of Kristofferson, Dylan and Springsteen. His blue-collar origins are evident in both narrative and delivery .."extra powerful and raspy... It’s not a pretty picture, but then, life never is.” (Greyowl Point) ... more
Streaming and Download help
If you like Steel Audrey, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp