1. |
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Ballad of Rusty Strange/ or Molasses Soul (Tune down guitar a whole step)
G C Am
Faded ember of an old Cape town.
G C Am
The harbor no longer wears his flat bottom crown,
G C Am
Jellyfish hula under the stars,
G F C D G
But not to Hawaiian, not to Hawaiian, not to Hawaiian slack key guitar.
Fmaj7 Em Fmaj7 Em
Well damper it down, let it burn slow,
Am Em Am G C Am
Speed is a vexation to my molasses soul, molasses soul.”
G C Am
“Molasses soul”
He said, You might lure me over that bridge,
If you promise that it won't be a rock and roll gig.
But when we got to drinkin the drummer and I,
We sped up Folsum Prison, sped up Folsum Prison,
Sped up Folsum Prison, a little too high.
Well damper it down, let it burn slow
Speed is a vexation to my molasses soul”.
Many a maiden swam past his door,
He loved them well and he loved them some more.
One couldn't fix an engine one couldn't hold an oar.
One didn't like it when he played,
Didn't like the sound he made,
Didn't like it when he played Hawaiian slack key guitar.
Well damper it down, let it burn slow
Speed is a vexation to my molasses soul.
I'd rather sleep alone with a warm soapstone.
Try coal fire mama, its good for your bones, good for your bones ,
Good for your bones.” Molasses Soul!
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2. |
Small Town Blues
04:01
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Small Town Blues
D A
The gossip mill is alive and well
G D
Where they pave the streets in oyster shells
Bm G
Round about March their throwin food
D A D D A
That's when they get them Small Town Blues
G D
... Small town Blues.
Man created the small town,
The Devil he put a moat around
I saw an onion break the speed of sound,
Grown men fighten like girls on the ground.
G D
Small Town Blues its amazing they can be
A D
So damn cruel to you and me.
G D
Small Town Blues on the edge of the sea
A
Tryin to shake this lechery.
Old black beard is gettin weird
God knows what turns his gears.
Some kinda dark conspiracy
Drove the Captain up a tree....Small town Blues
The lambs are cryin though the mud
I got no money but my luck is good.
The little children they can get them too
They’re tryin hard to shake them Small Town Blues.
Small town Blues its amazing they can be,
So damn cruel to you and me,
Small Town Blues on the edge of the sea,
tryin to shake the best of me.
Bartenders and fishermen
Finding it hard to find a place to live
Fifty empty rooms above the sand dunes
They’re carvin it up for the rich and few.
Big shot man from the magazine,
Said he’d do a story on me,
If I’d only move to the big city
So long Small Town Blues!
Small Town Blues its amazing they can be
So damn cruel to you and me,
Small Town Blues on the edge of the sea
Tryin to shake the best of me.
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3. |
Big Old World
03:35
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Big Old World
Am
G Cm
It’s a big old world, big and blue.
G Cm D G D
Its beautiful, spinning just like you, like you
Am G Cm G Cm
Pretty babe, just like you.
G Cm
Its time to rest your weary head,
G Cm D G
Climb into your soft warm bed.
F G Fm A Bb B
Take my hand as you sink into the sand.
C Em B7
And don’t believe the lies when they say its small
C D G Cm G Cm G Cm D G D Am
It aint at all. It’s a big old world, little girl.
And when you come back from slumber town
Gonna get lost in eider down.
Hear the ocean inside a shell
So many things to tell you.
And don’t believe the lies when they say its small
It aint at all.
It’s a big old world, little girl.
Cross my heart and hope to die
Stick a needle in my eye.
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4. |
Working on a Sunday
03:26
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Why we workin’ on a Sunday?
D
Old Escalante
Bm
Is quite uncanny
A
But even pioneers
G D
Know when its time to play
Bm
So why we working on a Sunday?
A G D
Why we working on a Sunday?
A
Why we working?
G D
Why we working on a Sunday?
A
Why we working?
D G A
Why we working on a Sunday Sunday Sunday?
D Bm
Sunday Yeah!
Old Everett Ruess
Is still out on the loose
Where every day is a Sunday
So many pretty canyons,
So little time
To give away your possessions on a Sunday
Ride your mule Ride your mule
On a Sunday, Why we working?
Why we working on a Sunday?
Sunday, Sunday, Sunday, Sunday
Does every nation have a Sunday?
Do they celebrate creation on a Sunday?
So why we working on a Sunday?
We should go outside and pray, pray, pray
Why we working? Why we working on a Sunday?
Brothers and sisters! Why we working on a Sunday?
Sunday, Sunday, Sunday, Sunday, Sunday, Sunday
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5. |
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Waiting For The Demons To Die
A D A
Up where the flies sound like elephants
D A A7
Trumpeting through the walls
D
Up where the cats are lethargic
A D A
When the nightly temperatures fall,
E D
I’m nested with my darling babe
A D A
And that’s where I’m gonna stay
D A
Till the snow has all gone away.
I wake in the morning like a bear.
She laughs in my face she don’t care.
I’m threading the needle of a dream
Where I hear the faintest scream.
And all that’s required is I’m calm from the start
And locate the good in my heart.
E D
Frost on the window blood in her cheeks
E D
The days blur into weeks
E D
I’m coughing up hair on the sunny stairs.
A D A D A
Waiting for the demons to die, waiting for the demons to die.
Now I’m splittin wood while she’s sleepin
As a wind howls through my bones
I’m talking to someone in the valley
Where the dog chews on the phone.
And all that’s required is I know my limits
And sing to her when she’s bored and light up another cord.
Frost on the window blood in her cheeks
The days bloom into weeds
I’m coughing up hair on the sunny stairs
Waiting for the demons to die, waitin for the demons to die
I can hear em dropping like flies
Waiting for the demons to die.
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6. |
Pony Ride
03:21
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Pony Ride (Tune down guitar a whole step)
G
Down and out on a Sunday drive
I saw a sign that said “pony ride”
D
I saw a Mexican man in rhinestones shining bright
Em C
Selling pony rides
Em C
To the other side
Em D G
Pony rides five bucks a pop
I’m having a bad day, A real bad day
Can I have a buckin’ pony ride
I want a pony ride, To the other side, I want a pony ride
To change my rotten perspective
“No, you’re too big for the ponies
You’re gonna break their backs
You’re too big for the ponies
Gonna break their backs”
No pony ride, to the other side, no pony ride
To change your rotten perspective
Pony ride! Pony ride!
Well he said that things were slow
So he’d let me have a go
He led me around the parking lot in tow
I got a pony ride, to the other side, I got a pony ride
And it changed my rotten perspective
I got a special forces wife
With a tongue like a bowie knife
Can I have a fuckin pony ride?
I want a pony ride, to the other side, I want a pony ride
To change my rotten perspective
Pony ride! Pony ride!
Having a bad day
Take your breath away
Can I have a fuckin pony ride?
I want a pony ride, To the other side, I want a pony ride
To change my rotten perspective
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7. |
Peace With The Pines
03:43
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Peace with the Pines
A Dm
In the dark crown of the pines
The stars already start to shine
G
They make me feel small and weak
Dm
And I hear strange sounds down by the creek
F
I wanna make peace tonight
G
I wanna make peace with them
Dm A
I wanna make peace with the pines
My uncle sat me on a log
I laughed and popped a flower pod
He tried to feed me Mary’s son
But I was wild and would have none
I wanna make peace tonight
I wanna make peace with him
I wanna make peace with the pines
A C
Peace with the pines
Peace with the pines
I wanna make peace tonight
I wanna make peace with them
I wanna make peace with the pines
Below their ruby razor skin
Goatsucker is waking up again
Lightning bolts split the crotch
You say vanilla I say butterscotch
I wanna make peace tonight
I wanna make peace with you
I wanna make peace with the pines
When I was a little scrap
My hands caked with dirt and sap
I told a boy whose father died
Heaven was only in his mind
I wanna make peace tonight
I wanna make peace with him
I wanna make peace with the pines
Peace with the pines
Peace with the pines
I wanna make peace tonight
I wanna make peace with them
I wanna make peace with the pines
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8. |
The Wicked Things
05:26
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The Wicked Things (Capo 2 nd Fret)
Am
Vines hit the mansion
And let out a squeal
E
Lily white knuckles unpeel
Dm Am F E
She lets the wicked things grow in the field
G F C
She fixes herself a calendar meal
G Am
And moans in the TV’s blue light
Dm Am E Am
She feeds the wicked things with wicked delight
She pours rancid milk on the statues of moss
Whilst cousin throws rocks at the birds
She talks to the wicked things
Have you heard?
Long ago she was granted an emerald estate
But her womb was a hostile place
She let the wicked things inherit its grace
F Am
She nips off the buds before they can open
F Am
She sips vinegar from a cracked mason jar
G F C
She lets the wicked things know where you are
I can tell where she’s been
By the skunk cabbage steps
By the filter from her cigarettes
She pampers the wicked things and poisons the rest
I’m the last of the gardeners
They’ve all disappeared
I found their bones in the maze
Lost in the wicked things they howled for days
She nips off the buds before they can open
She sips vinegar from a cracked mason jar
She lets the wicked things into her heart
I sharpened my spade on a child’s grave
And ran down to take up my place
I chopped down the wicked things hiding her face
She let out a laugh like a nervous actress
I severed her head with one blow
And she let the wicked things finally go
I nip off the buds
After they’ve broken
I sip wine and beer from a goblet with cheer
And I burn the wicked things the first of the year
The first of the year
The first of the year
The first of the year
The first of the year
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9. |
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Ballad of Natascha Kampusch
Am Em
I know when Sunday comes
G C G
For I can hear the bells
Am Em
He says that I’m a ray of light
G C G
So he locks me out of sight
D
In a cell
G
Are you done with me
C G
Are you wicked fool?
C G D Em
Are you done with me wicked fool?
He lets me stroll around the gardens and the trees
With a rope around my waist
He says that if I ever leave him
He’ll shoot himself in the face
With a gun
Are you done with me?
Are you wicked fool?
Are you done with me wicked fool?
True love deserves more than this
That’s what I tell him I tell him this
He serves me lamb and apple crisp
Cleans my dish and then he takes me by the wrist
I don’t exist
Are you done with me?
Are you wicked fool?
Are you done with me wicked fool?
Can you let me out for to see the sun?
Are you done with me wicked one?
There’s no windows in my room
He brings me flowers and he sings
Some old opera that he knows
My skin is white as the snow as the snow
Are you done with me?
Are you wicked fool?
Are you done with me wicked fool?
Can you let me out for to see the sun?
Are you done with me wicked one?
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10. |
I Long And Then I'm Gone
04:07
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I Long and Then I’m Gone
C Bm Am G Bm Am G (4x)
G C
I long for the jewel encrusted, exotic dreams within
G BmAm G
The clown fish, the angel fish, magnificent fins.
C
I long for the grizzly hunting me down in the pines.
G BmAm G
I long for the monsters to come and wake up my mind.
D C
I long to be alone, to lie beneath the ice
G Bm Am G
Floating in a Tai Chi painted turtle ballet, neath the moaning ice.
D C G
And I long, long, long
G D G
Long and then I’m gone.
I long for the bamboo tower
Trembling in the sky,
Leading me onward, into the bye and bye.
I long for to travel the countries with no name
Deep in the dark maps of my dreams I long for a train.
I long for the faces that fed me as I’ve grown
I long for the places with birds never seen or heard.
I long, long,I long,
Long and then I’m gone.
I long for the feeling that anything is possible.
I long for the Eel river
For pure nakedness and bliss.
I long for the cyclamen returning in a riot
Rising to lift the sleeping giant. I long to love you right.
I long to not look back as I walk into the light
I long, I long, I long, I long and then I’m gone.
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Boris McCutcheon Dixon, New Mexico
Mother Ditch (2001) When We Were Big (2003) Turbulent Amusement (live) (2004) Cactusman vs the Blue Demon (2006) Lost Sessions and B-Sides (2006) Bad Road, Good People (2008) Wheel of Life (2010)Utrecht (live) (2011)Boris McCutcheon Sings the Songs of Townes Van Zandt (2012)Might Crash! (2013)I’m Here Let Me In (2017)• 2004 Boston Music Awards best male singer songwriter• 2004 ... more
Boris McCutcheon recommends:
Impossible Machine
by Small Birds of Sound
bionic super nerd rock w/fantastic lyrics
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A vibrant vision of "Central Americana" from the Costa Rica-based artist, blending heartland devotionals with playful Tropicália grooves.
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