1. |
|
|||
|
Sitting on the Old Dark Shore
Lyrics by Tommy Schulz
When you're feeling blue
Plumb like a fool
When your fear has gotten out of hand to you
When your blanket’s wet and your sails are furled
And your shoulders hold the weight of the world
When the truth in you just isn't coming true
And the only things that happen to you, happen too soon
Your Chain is kinked
And your Dark wind blows
And your little light barely glows
There's a place where every mirror reflects another lonely soul
A stale old state where you can't hold your own
Where the sun shines gray
Its torture day to day
And the breeze deems your happiness a passing phase
There's lies and pain and a whole lot more when you’re sitting on the old dark shore
Where the dead dance on
The demons live among
Every path is a razor you are dragged upon
All sweet music is a siren’s song and you can't steer the ship that you’re on
Where the birds don't fly and the fish don't swim
Every thought is a bubble you are trapped within
Where strictly forbidden are grinning and whims
When you’re sitting on the old dark shore
There's a place where every mirror reflects another lonely soul
A stale old state where you can't hold your own
If you wake up weary with a blank-eyed stare
You can just sprout roots and grow right out of there
You can get out but you gotta open the door
When you’re sitting on the old dark shore
|
||||
2. |
Them
03:36
|
|
||
|
Them
Lyrics by Tommy Schulz
I set out tonight for some strange place to beat
Those yellowed past fears that are still haunting me
When I try to hide is when I cannot see through to them
I traded my love for desire and I blamed
All of life's darkness on others and friends
But what I’d reviled is what I was doing to them
Thought I’d left, but I stayed here
Thought I’d run, but I laid here
Thought I was learning about living
But I was learning how to die.
Time after time
And live with my spirits
And learn from them
Must we follow memories a-calling our names
Like going on back home although it’s never the same
A young heart could die if it were not prepared to face them
Tender hearts suffer the blows of hard life
while hard hearts suffer their tenderless time
How can I survive when I see in me both of them
|
||||
3. |
Flowers In Her Hair
03:40
|
|
||
|
Flowers in Her Hair
Lyrics by Noa
There once was a girl with flowers in her hair
With eyes black as pitch and hair to match.
There once was a girl with flowers in her hair
Flowers at her grave, her grave to match.
There once was a hound, a terrible hound
With eyes red as flesh and bones of ash.
There once was a hound, a terrible hound
Lying at her grave, her grave to match.
There once was a girl, a wandering girl
Who went off to see the fair, to breathe life and new air.
There once was a girl, a wandering girl
Who forsook her old ways and abandoned all care.
There once was a hound, a terrible hound
Empty and hungry though fare it was plenty.
There once was a hound, a terrible hound
Who craved something more, who craved humanity.
There once was a girl, a foolish girl
Who stumbled and fell, her cry a knell.
There once was a hound, a terrible hound
who finally struck a bloody farewell.
There once was a grave, a silent grave.
The dark laid heavy as the night laid ready.
There once was a grave, a silent grave.
Red eyes burning bright, so cold and empty.
|
||||
4. |
Bogda's Diner
03:08
|
|
||
|
Instrumental
|
||||
5. |
Burning Down
02:26
|
|
||
|
Burning Down
Lyrics by Casey James Holmberg
Well way out west in the golden state there's a shining ember glowing
Irreverent of the memories it’s burned
My childhood's schored, my future’s torched and the cost of land is rising
Who gets to live on the big old hill and watch the valley burn?
How can I breathe here when the smoke would choke the best of folk?
How can I live here when there's people burning down?
Who strikes it rich on the golden dream when there’s no water in the stream?
Well I was born here but so it goes, we don't get to pick our homes
Sometimes living life here seems a gamble
They felled the oak trees, let the pines burn. hardwood homes have debts to pay
Another hot home hits the market Let's just hope it's here to stay
I smell the smoke and think about a man I saw some years ago
The first time that I ever went downtown
How will he run without his legs when the blaze is on it’s way?
He can't use the cloud to download rain.
|
||||
6. |
|
|||
|
The Greener Grass Shuffle
Lyrics by Tommy Schulz
Sign of our times
I ain’t feeling fine
Everything I’m doing is a-heavy on my mind
Sugar in my coffee, sugar in my tea
Sugar in the dealin’ when the shipping is free
Every little thing is just taking its toll
Feeling when I’m slipping that I’m losing my soul
I’m anxious in the market and I couldn’t say why
Cut me open, cut me open I’m a-full of butterflies
Some folks don’t try so they don’t feel
They may be wasting time reinventing the wheel
Some folks take time so they can see
Everything I’m doing sold back to me
Some folks get one, some folks get two
Some folks a-get a-nothing what the hell should we do?
Got a little secret but it’s hard to tell right
Something ‘bout awakening to, not running from the fight
But I’ve got baggage and I cant reel
And I’ve got a lot of demons here a-nipping at my heels
I tried to talk to god, but She didn't talk back
She showed me where the sun was shining through the cracks
That's all good, it's about time, there's a lot of funny people trying to feed me a line
So that I’ll stay inside, won’t go out to play, till I can't tell if its burning or a cloudy day
Take my friend, independent kind of guy
Moving from the city for to live a little life
Got a little garden just to grow a little food
Keeps him out of trouble just to do a little good.
Says the city is big but its bigger out here
I won't breathe gasoline just to keep me in gear
Now only go to town to get what I can't grow
Burning firewood to be living in the snow
Said a fella came by with a badge in his eye
Saying he’d be spraying killing critters that night.
I ain’t your boss, but I'm here to say
Don't go out a-wanderin’ for a couple of days
The old farm on the rise grows a whole lot of food
And I gotta keep it working just like it should.
Critters gotta eat but we gotta eat too,
And I’m ordered “kill them all” just to see that we do.
I aint no preacher but it seems to me
You can't just run away to where the grass is green
This tired old western where the bullets fly
Is keeping me from going to bed without a tear in my eye
I just know it, there's got to be a way
To keep a-”momma blue” without a power display
I’m living on death but I’ve yet to die.
Cut me open, cut me open I’m a-full of butterflies
|
||||
7. |
Weary Traveler
02:44
|
|
||
|
Weary Traveler
Lyrics by Casey James Holmberg
Weary traveler
As your road winds on
And the sparkle that once touched your eyes has gone
Does your heart song
Fly as freely now
As the hope you've left behind?
Through rivers of time and memories we must wade
Reflection’s doors open through reality’s gates
But your road is not a shackle but a path to set you free
Back to you, and so to be.
Weary traveler
You say the world has changed
Things are different. ain't never gonna be the same
Do you blame them
For all of life's hard chores
And the sorrows that hang around your door?
|
||||
Fog Holler Portland, Oregon
Inspired by a range of influences from The Stanley Brothers to Buck Owens to Meshuggah, Fog Holler is a bluegrass band with an edge. Described by 2-time Grammy Award Winner Cathy Fink as “The next generation of the many shades of grass”, Fog Holler’s captivating tunes and coordinated outfits are quickly enthralling longtime bluegrass fans and newcomers alike. ... more
If you like Fog Holler, you may also like:
Utterly gorgeous songs that combine traditional folk and bluegrass with the Jewish Sabbath liturgy to moving effect.
go to album
Terrific instrumental bluegrass and Americana from this L.A. musician that is as big as the desert sky.
go to album
Hell on Church Street
by punchbrothers
A re-envisioning of Tony Rice's classic album "Church Street Blues" from Brooklyn progressive bluegrass quartet Punch Brothers.
go to album
All The Good Times
by Starlings, TN
Members of punk act reassemble to make atmospheric and gutsy bluegrass songs about barbeque and whiskey.
go to album
The lead singer of punk band Camp Cope ventures into romantic synth-pop territory, tempering slick arrangements with bare sentiment.
go to album
Sorry I'm So Sensitive
by Bea Stewart
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Mar 26, 2024
go to album
