1. |
On My Own Sense
02:51
|
|||
|
I wish, I wish to see such a sight
From high on a hill lookin' down on a fight
See a straight line split the wrong from the right
But a blinding light shines thru the fence
It's made up of colors besides black n white
So I'll try n get by on my own sense
I wish, I wish to hear such a sound
Enter my ear as it's held to the ground
To tell what's behind me and wherefore it's bound
But the roar of the road is immense
So I stick to a path I can pleasantly pound
And try n get by on my own sense
I wish, I wish to know such a thought
To fill ev'ry blank and connect ev'ry dot
Perceive ev'ry puzzle, predict ev'ry plot
But a lesson for the present tense:
What they say it is, it is probably not
So I try n get by on my own sense
I wish, I wish to be like the rest
Who swear to believe by the beat of their breast
In the easy opinion that they've been blest
But I'm askin' these ladies n gents
If maybe, just maybe their king is undressed
Just try n get by on thy own sense
|
||||
2. |
||||
3. |
Apple On A Table, Green
03:22
|
|||
4. |
Born In 1984
04:27
|
|||
5. |
Nature's Boy
07:11
|
|||
6. |
||||
7. |
Fight No More Forever
03:58
|
|||
8. |
John Houx's Cigaret Rag
03:31
|
|||
|
It was about a week ago, my
Tobacco bag was runnin' low
I wanted more, but I was broke, and
Started thinkin' "Maybe I'll quit smokin'"
Woke hung over at four the next evening
Couldn't breathe, coughin' sneezin' hackin' wheezin'
Took a cue from the sound of my cough
That I picked the right time to take time off
The days went by, my throat got better
Sewed up the cigaret holes in my sweater
Feeling pretty good about my quittin'
I sat down to get some new songs written
I know what Allen Ginsberg spoke
Don't smoke, don't smoke the official dope
But it's organic! I rationalize
Well even they're owned by the big bad guys
I think of all the friends and folk
I've met by bummin' the occasional smoke
And all the things I'd have never seen
If I hadn't been a tobacco fiend
Should there ever come a day
When I blow my final drag away
What will I do to keep my head dizzy
And keep my little mouth and fingers busy?
|
||||
9. |
Good Aftanoon
03:05
|
|||
|
When the bomb comes down
When the flag goes up
I watch for rainclouds
And reach for my cup
Good aftanoon, Good aftanoon
Aftanoon, hope to see you soon
Pick up the paper
But the news is dumb
Says "Enemy is coming"
I say let 'em come
Good aftanoon, Good aftanoon
Aftanoon, hope to see you soon
I watch the war
It's my favorite show
Seems I'm always seeing
Somebody I know
Good aftanoon, Good aftanoon
Aftanoon, hope to see you soon
What of the warnings?
What of terror?
I won't worry
Que sera, sera
Good aftanoon, Good aftanoon
Aftanoon, hope to see you soon
This very morning
I woke in bed
Same time tomorrow
I'll be waking dead
This very night
It all could end
All the bodies and bullets
Gone with the wind
But they won't learn
They never win
Soon as the sunrise
They'll begin fighting again
And the ropes come down
And the blades go in
And I'll stick to my garden
Grinnin' and growin'
Good aftanoon, Good aftanoon
Aftanoon, hope to see you soon
|
||||
10. |
Bird, Bird, Bird
04:32
|
|||
|
I went walking in the springtime
Down to courthouse jail
My sweetheart had been arrested
Just for being female
While I went down through the city
Saw so many pretty things
Man and man stood hand in hand
And wings brought them two gold rings
It was a bird, bird, bird
Beautiful bird, bird, bird
It was a big black beautiful bird
As I passed the parks and circles
And took shortcuts through
Bald primates in black suits
Holding cute children
Strolled into the zoo
I caught a glimpse of the chimps in cages
Stages labeled "Ape"
The sadness on their faces clear
'Til a great beak appeared
Bit through the bars and offered them escape
It was a bird, bird, bird
Beautiful bird, bird, bird
It was a big black beautiful bird
Got to the jailhouse to bail my girl out
But my last dollar was spent
I thought money ought not matter
But I guess even Justice must pay rent
I had no I.D., so they tied me
Tried me as vagrant
But my fingers turned to feathers
And flapped my way free
Flew beyond the bonds of any government
I was a bird, bird, bird
Beautiful bird, bird, bird
I was a big black beautiful bird
|
||||
11. |
Hole Digger
03:49
|
|||
|
Oh! I'm a hole digger, by birth and by trade
Policeman took away my shoveling spade
He doesn't like some of the holes I made
But I'm a hole digger, I'm not afraid
Once I went to work, dug a cowboy fencepost
But it held the wild creatures I loved most
They got raised, got sold, got reduced to ghosts
That ain't the way it's supposed to go
Once I was commissioned, dug for the mayor
Waited to meet him, but just his body was there
In a box of butchered trees, built just to bury
Such sacrifice don't seem very fair
Once I took my shovel up my mother's hill
To look for new water, but I found oil
Some company came, raised a towering drill
Now mama's well is just an oil spill
Once I dug a firepit along the shore
Threw in the fences and graves from before
All through the town, my wildfire tore
So they took my tools, "Don't dare dig no more"
So I dig with my hands now, deep into the ground
Stand and dust them off when police come 'round
And ask what I'm doin' by this dirt hole and mound
"I'm digging for freedom, can't quit 'til it's found"
Cause I'm a hole digger, by birth and by trade
Policeman took away my shoveling spade
He doesn't like some of the holes I made
But I'm a hole digger, I'm not afraid
|
||||
Johnny Houx recommends:
I recorded this EP in one afternoon between Green Period and Get Ancient, and the spirit of that day made it onto the record.
go to albumIf you like Johnny Houx, you may also like:
Berlin based songwriter Oliver Burghardt tempers avant-garde absurdities with charming anti-folk on his latest as Pink Lint.
go to album
A female voice that feels out of another century quivers over a folk harp on the 11 tracks that make up this exclusive video album.
go to album
Between The Blades
by Libby Rodenbough
Libby Rodenbough brings a warm, intimate touch to traditional country-folk songwriting on her latest LP.
go to album
Delicate and personal folk-pop from Castle Theater: honest observations and reflections presented as thoughtful, well-written miniatures.
go to album
Slap Back Baby
by Fabian Simon & The Moon Machine
Paying homage to the beginnings of pop music, this album has emotional depth while still feeling light.
go to album
