1. |
The Cracks in My Guitar
04:12
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I went on a hunt for the hair of the dog,
at my waterin' hole.
The Friday night bar crowd just talks the night away,
but the man who sat alone, bet he has the most to say.
So I pulled up a chair and said, "Hey where ya from?"
He said, "See this gray hair? Lemme tell ya a story son."
I never would have gotten this far,
if it weren't for all the cracks in my guitar.
See I've been down on luck and I've seen what's up top.
I've even met a woman who'd make your heart stop.
But the more I had the more I'd lose
So life on the road is what I choose.
So I chased the sun west and I didn't look back,
till I laid my head to rest and I talked to Johnny Black.
I never would have gotten this far,
if it weren't for all the cracks in my guitar.
See, the mirror tells my tales in lines and old skin,
of lessons past I learned and of fights I didn't win.
But if we're all mostly water and gold doesn't float,
then look to the bottom to find the right note.
I said, we're all mostly water and gold doesn't float,
then the bottom of the barrel is where we find hope.
It's where we find hope.
It's where we find hope.
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2. |
Death, the Dark Desert
05:07
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It's been so long on this walk
That I can hear the crows talk
They say, "It's okay."
So I travel on.
Relentless sun beats down.
I come up on a ghost town.
But there's nothing here,
and my thirst is taking over.
Are my eyes playing tricks?
This place looks lit and the taps are set
So I go in.
Trust the bottle.
Two shots in and I start to grin
now the world, it seems to be my friend.
But there's nothing here
and my thirst is taking over.
************
Windward Ho! This land has no gold left to find!
Windward Ho! I've travelled so long and so far.
Windward Ho! This landscape has taken my mind,
and I find I'm just feeling my way through this blind.
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3. |
Nutshell (AIC Cover)
04:28
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We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time
And yet I fight,
and yet I fight
this battle all alone
No one to cry to
No place to call home.
Ohhh ohhhh
ooohhh oohhh
My gift of self is raped
My privacy is raked
and yet I find
and yet I find
repeating in my head
If I can't be my own,
I'd feel better dead.
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4. |
Firepriest
04:10
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He was a mortal man,
torn to shreds by the work of his own hands.
Now he walks skinless,
living his days out in sin.
His life led wild.
He won the race at the cost of his last days.
He dug this pile,
and fell into his early grave.
He asked the world for forgiveness,
and found his prayers unheard.
Death in the dark he cries alone;
The fire beckons him home.
The fire beckons him home.
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The Gadjo Providence, Rhode Island
The Gadjo is a band that rolls through the desert picking up the strays and hitchhikers along the way. It is currently based in my home studio (Skyrider Studio). Songs are built track by track using the studio as an instrument along with vocals, guitar, bass, drums, keys, and electronic components. The Gadjo rocks, rolls, yells, and grooves. ... more
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