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1. |
Jay Gould's Daughter
03:17
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On a Monday morning it begin to rain.
'Round the curve come a passenger train.
On the bumper was Hobo John.
He's a good old hobo, but he's dead and gone.
Dead and gone,
Now Jay Gould's daughter was a girl named Jane
Used to ride up and down on her daddies train
Women and children riding riding next door
Jay Gould's daughter got her very own car.
Her very own car.
Jay Gould's daughter said before she died,
Papa, fix the blinds so the bums can't ride.
If ride they must, they got to ride the rod.
Let 'em put their trust in the hands of God.
In the hands of God.
Jay Gould's daughter said, before she died,
There's two more drinks I'd like to try.
Jay Gould said, "Daughter what can they be?
They's a glass o' water and a cup o' tea.
A cup o' tea,
Let them put their trust in the hands of God.
Jay Gould's daughter said, before she died,
There's two more trains I'd like to ride.
Jay Gould said, "Daughter, what can they be?"
The Southern Pacific and the Santa Fe.
The Santa Fe,
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2. |
Two Good Arms
04:37
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Who will remember the hands so white and fine
who touched the finest linen, who poured the finest wine?
Who will remember the careless words they spoke
To name the lives of two good men a nuisance or a joke?
And all who know these two good arms
Know I never had to run or kill
I can live by my own two hands
And live well
And all my life I have struggled to rid the earth of all such crime.
And who will remember Judge Webster Thayer?
With one hand on the gavel, the other resting on the chair
Who will remember the hateful words he said?
Speaking to the living in the language of the dead
And all who know these two good arms
Know I never had to run or kill
I can live by my own two hands
And live well
And all my life I have struggled to rid the earth of all such crime.
Who will remember the hand upon the switch?
To take the lives of two good men in the service of the rich?
Who will remember the one who gave the nod?
Or the Chaplain standing near at hand to invoke the name of god?
And all who know these two good arms
Know I never had to run or kill
I can live by my own two hands
And live well
We will remember this good shoemaker
and we will remember this poor fish peddler
and we will remember all the strong arms and hands
that never once found justice in the hands that rule this land
And all who know these two good men
Know they never had to run or kill
Each had lived by their own two hands
And lived well
And all my life I have struggled to rid the earth of all such crime.
and all our lives we struggles to rid the earth of such crimes
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3. |
Pokingbrook Harvest Song
02:05
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Let the sun shine one more day
As we bend our backs and we bind the hay
As we gather in the full-eared corn
When the days turn warm from a frosty morn
Pick and pile and cut and truss
What the earth has borne for us
Load it up, then haste away
For light grows shorter day by day
Place the yield in silo and barn
Safe from snow and rain and harm
Then you reap a harvest sure
Of deep content and sleep secure
Let the sun shine one more day
As we bend our backs and we bind the hay
As we gather in the full-eared corn
When the days turn warm from a frosty morn
Autumn's harvest rich as gold
Stored as winter's shield from cold
For our children, for the beasts
We now prepare a harvest feast
Bless the earth and rain and sun
That we need to carry on
Bless the season's which have turned
And give to us what we have earned
Let the sun shine one more day
As we bend our backs and we bind the hay
As we gather in the full-eared corn
When the days turn warm from a frosty morn
Let the sun shine one more day
As we bend our backs and we bind the hay
As we gather in the full-eared corn
When the days turn warm from a frosty morn
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4. |
Children of Darkness
03:55
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Now is the time for your loving, dear,
And the time for your company
Now when the light of reason fails
And fires burn on the sea
Now in this age of confusion
I have need for your company.
It's once I was free to go roaming in
The wind of the springtime mind
It's once the clouds I sailed upon
Were sweet as lilac wine
So why are the breezes of summer, dear
Enlaced with a grim design?
And where was the will of my father when
We raised our swords on high?
And where was my mother's wailing when
Our flags were justified?
And where will we take our pleasures when
Our bodies have been denied?
For I am a wild and a lonely child
And the son of an angry man
Now with the high wars raging
I would offer you my hand
For we are the children of darkness
And the prey of a proud, proud land.
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5. |
Their Brains Were Small
03:32
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When I sit in contemplation of the human situation
I often feel a certain sense of pride.
For our achievements are many and mighty
And the evidence cannot be denied.
But my reverie is shaken 'cause my thoughts are always taken to a tragedy that happened long ago,
When there moved through the land
Beings awesome and grand
The fabulous dinosaur.
They were creatures in a manner quite reptilian
In their unique and stylish way,
And their numbers could be reckoned in the millions;
But there are zero of these heroes in the world today.
They had music, art and fashion, there was dinosaur
compassion
And I think they'd be enraged and mortified
That when they`re mentioned today it's only to say:
Their brains were small and they died.
Perhaps some asteroid that mother earth could not avoid
Became the agent of their premature demise.
Well l understand that these things can happen,
So who are we to criticize?
When we'll spend most any price to have the ultimate device that will ensure the perfect global suicide.
Well, l would venture instead that the humanoid head
Is where the tinier brain resides.
And when we're gone our works they'll start to crumble
Until nothing can be found.
In ten million years some other guys may stumble On our fossils
then some fellow will begin to expound, in some scientific study
to his cockroach science buddies
How the evidence can never be denied
They were big dumb and slow, they couldn't go with the flow
Their brains were small, and they died.
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6. |
Down by the River
03:14
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I'll meet you down by the river
down by the river
Down by the river
To see what we can see
Down by the river
By the hudson river
Down by the river
Thats where I want to be.
You may be feeling cramped and crowded
You may be feeling restless and bored
I know a place can cures what ails you
leave you refreshed leave your mind restored.
I'll meet you down by the river
down by the river
down by the river
to see what we can see
down by the river
by the hudson river
down by the river
thats where I want to be.
You never know what you might find there
You never know what the tide will bring
But I know you'll find peace of mind there
Something about it makes me want to sing
I'll meet you down by the river
down by the river
down by the river
to see what we can see
down by the river
by the hudson river
down by the river
thats where I want to be.
Just make your way down to the water
That river will bring the world to your feet
Might be something washed down from the mountains
or dredged right up from the ocean deep.
I'll meet you down by the river
down by the river
down by the river
to see what we can see
down by the river
by the hudson river
down by the river
thats where I want to be.
Once we got careless about out river
let it fill up with pollution and trash
Now we're trying hard to protect it
Want to make sure that our river will last
I'll meet you down by the river
down by the river
down by the river
to see what we can see
down by the river
by the hudson river
down by the river
thats where I want to be.
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7. |
All Mixed Up
03:24
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You know this language that we speak,
Is part German, Latin and part Greek
Celtic and Scandinavian all in a heap,
Well amended by the people in the street
Choctaw gave us the word "okay";
"Vamose" is a word from Mexico way.
And all of this is a hint I suspect of what comes next.
I think that this whole world
Soon mama my whole wide world
Soon mama my whole world
Soon gonna be gettin' mixed up.
I like Polish sausage, I like Spanish rice,
Pizza pie is also nice
Corn and beans from the Indians here
Washed down by German beer
Marco Polo traveled by camel and pony,
Brought to Italy, the first macaroni
You and I as well as we're able,
We put it all on the table
I think that this whole world
Soon mama my whole wide world
Soon mama my whole world
Soon gonna be gettin' mixed up.
There were no red-headed Irishmen
Before the Vikings traveled to Ireland
How many Romans had dark curly hair
Before they brought slaves from Africa?
No race of man is completely pure,
Nor is anyone's mind, now that's for sure
The winds mix the dust of every land,
And so will woman and man.
I think that this whole world
Soon mama my whole wide world
Soon mama my whole world
Soon gonna be gettin' mixed up.
This doesn't mean we will all be the same,
We have different faces and different names
Long live many different kinds of races
Different opinions make horse races
Just remember the rule about rules, brother
What's right with one could be wrong with the other
And take a tip from La Belle France: "Viva la difference!"
I think that this whole world
Soon mama my whole wide world
Soon mama my whole world
Soon gonna be gettin' mixed up.
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8. |
Apple Pressing
02:17
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Oh the days are warm the nights are crisp
Turn turn the apple press
Of all the year this time is best
And oh how fine are the apples
The lakes are misty in the morn
Turn turn the apple press
The ghost of summer lingers on
And oh how fine are the apples
The geese are flying overhead
Turn turn the apple press
They call to us that summer's dead
And oh how fine are the apples
But never mind that summer's lost
Turn turn the apple press
Harvest comes with autumns frost
And oh how fine are the apples
The flowers of spring do feed the soul
Turn turn the apple press
The fruits of autumn feed us all
And oh how fine are the apples
The trees are bending with their weight
Turn turn the apple press
We'll pick them clean to make them straight
And oh how fine are the apples
And when we've picked and cut and squeezed
Turn turn the apple press
We'll share our nectar with the bees
And oh how fine are the apples
And when bees and all have drunk their fill
Turn turn the apple press
We'll feel the warmth of summer still
And oh how fine are the apples
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9. |
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Woke up this morning, was a fine sunny day
I wanted you to love me but you but you had to run away
You were busy, busy makin' lots of dough
So I told you, you'd better have some fun before you're old
You'll be the richest guy in the graveyard
With money in the bank
You'll be the fattest cat
Who's stretched out flat
You'll have yourself to thank
Now what's the good of earnin'
When theirs no time for spendin'
You know you're simply headed
For a horizontal endin'
The richest guy in the graveyard
So daddy won't you please slow down
You'll climb the Golden Gate to the graveyard
That gate aint so great
You'll be the sleepiest creep
Who's six feet deep
You'll find it out too late
I can't imagine how you can be a good lover
All wrapped around in brown
With a five-ply cover
So take my tip and don't work hard
Then you'll delay that graveyard drive
You'll be the richest guy in the graveyard
Now just you wait and see
You'll be the gonest goon
Who ever went too soon
That ain't no good to me
I'd rather be found
In a flophouse bed
Then down in the ground
With dirt on my head
You'll be the richest guy in the graveyard
So daddy won't you hear my plea
Do me a favor and please
Make out the will to me
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10. |
Grandfather's Clock
05:47
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My grandfather's clock
Was too tall for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half
Than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.
It was bought on the morn
Of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
Ninety years without slumbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
It stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum
Swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood
The clock seemed to know,
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four
When he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
Ninety years without slumbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
It stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
My grandfather said
That of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time,
And had but one desire,
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place,
Not a frown upon its face,
And its hand never hung by its side.
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
Ninety years without slumbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
It stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
It rang an alarm
In the dead of the night,
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit
Was pluming for flight,
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time,
With a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side.
But it stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
Ninety years without slumbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock,
It stopped short
Never to go again,
When the old man died.
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11. |
The Bells
03:24
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Hear the sledges with the bells
Silver bells
What a world of merriment
Their melody foretells
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle
In the icy air of night
All the heavens seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight
Keeping time, time, time
With a sort of Runic rhyme
From the tintinnabulation
That so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells
Hear the mellow wedding bells
Golden bells
What a world of happiness
Their harmony foretells
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight
Through the dances and the yells
And the rapture that impels
How it swells
How it dwells
On the future
How it tells
From the swinging and the ringing of the molten golden bells
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
Of the rhyming and the chiming of the bells
Hear the loud alarum bells
Brazen bells
What a tale of terror now
Their turbulency tells
Much too horrified to speak
Oh, they can only shriek
For all the ears to know
How the danger ebbs and flows
Leaping higher, higher, higher
With a desperate desire
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire
With the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
With the clamor and the clanging of the bells
Hear the tolling of the bells
Iron bells
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels
For all the sound that floats
From the rust within our throats
And the people sit and groan
In their muffled monotone
And the tolling, tolling, tolling
Feels a glory in the rolling
From the throbbing and the sobbing
Of the melancholy bells
Oh, the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
Oh, the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
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12. |
No More Songs
02:04
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Hello, hello, hello
Is there anybody home?
I've only called to say
I'm sorry.
The drums are in the dawn,
and all the voices gone.
And it seems that there are no more songs.
Once I knew a girl
She was a flower in a flame
I loved her as the sea sings sadly
Now the ashes of the dream
Can be found in the magazines.
And it seems that there are no more songs.
Once I knew a sage
who sang upon the stage
He told about the world,
His lover.
A ghost without a name,
Stands ragged in the rain.
And it seems that there are no more songs.
The rebels they were here
They came beside the door
They told me that the moon was bleeding
Then all to my suprise,
They took away my eyes.
And it seems that there are no more songs.
A star is in the sky,
It's time to say goodbye.
A whale is on the beach,
He's dying.
A white flag in my hand,
And a white bone in the sand.
And it seems that there are no more songs.
Hello, hello, hello
Is there anybody home?
I've only called to say
I'm sorry.
The drums are in the dawn,
and all the voices gone.
And it seems that there are no more songs.
It seems that there are no more songs.
It seems that there are no more songs.
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13. |
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There should be a lullaby for the fully grown
Sung to ease a troubled mind, a heart that's badly torn
Life can deal us cruel blows or simply wear us to the bone
There should be a lullaby for the fully grown
Tumbling through the stream of days, gaining polish, getting worn
Wondering where the power lies when we feel forlorn
At times we need a mother's hand, when we're mothers on our own
There should be a lullaby for the fully grown
There should be a lullaby for the fully grown
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14. |
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They wouldn't hear your music
And they pulled your paintings down
They wouldn't read your writing
And they banned you from the town
But they couldn't stop you dreaming
And the victory you have won
For you sowed the seeds of freedom
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
You sowed the seeds of freedom
In your daughters and your sons
Well your weary smile it proudly hides
The chain marks on your hands
As you bravely strive to realise
The rights of every man
And though your body's bent and low
A victory you have won
For you sowed the seeds of justice
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
You sowed the seeds of freedom
In your daughters and your sons
Well, I don't know your religion
But one day I heard you pray
For a world where everyone can work
And children can play
And though you never got your share
Of the fruits that you have won
You sowed the seeds of equality
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
You sowed the seeds of freedom
In your daughters and your sons
Well, they taunted you in Belfast
And they tortured you in Spain
In that Warsaw ghetto
Why they tied you up in chains
In the streets sarajevo
Where they came with tanks and guns
It's there you sowed the seeds of peace
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
You sowed the seeds of freedom
In your daughters and your sons
And now your music's playing
And the writings on the wall
And all the dreams you painted
Can be seen by one and all
And now you've got them thinking
That the future's just begun
For you sowed the seeds of freedom
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
In your daughters and your sons
You sowed the seeds of freedom
In your daughters and your sons
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15. |
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Betty and the Baby Boomers New Paltz, New York
An acoustic folk quintet from New York's Hudson Valley. Folk song magazine Sing Out! described the group as “a refreshing reminder of the halcyon days of American folk music” and the CD [Tumbling Through the Stream of Days] as “an enthusiastic testament to the sheer joy of singing and playing music.” ... more
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