Lyrics for Over and Under
Copyright © 2000 Hacklebarney Music
- River Will Take You
- Mattie Price
- Summer Evening
- Why Do You Even Say That?
- Shit Out of Luck
- Fairfield
- Almost Out of Gas
- Betty Ann
- 857-5413
- Your Town Now
- Dear Wrinkled Face
- InaBell Sale
- Like a Dog
That river will take you to Keokuk just as well
as it'll take you past Eldon straight down to hell.
Them boys'd been drinkin', two was real fat
They went out at midnight, goin' after cat.
Two could swim sort of, two not at all,
They was all plastered, havin' a ball.
Well they left from the east side down a' carbide shack,
They just went fishin' and never come back.
We seen that johnboat next day in a snag,
Called up the men, went out to drag.
Found 'em next sundown, Lord, how they stank,
We lay them poor boys up on the river bank.
Now they was just drunk boys, they didn't know what they did,
One of 'em was married, three of 'em had kids.
That old river will take you, most of us swore
next time we got drunk, we'd just fish from shore.
Well, look at Mattie Price, she's lookin' awful nice,
Last time I seen her, she's 'bout to my knees.
Now she don't even blink, you can't tell what she thinks,
Flower like that's gonna draw a lot of bees.
Ah, you better get married, Mattie Price, or you better get out of town.
You better get married, Mattie Price, trouble goin' down.
These summer nights are hot, she sure don't wear a lot,
She's always on that corner by the store.
And as she moves along, I'm feelin' awful wrong,
I never really felt like this before.
Now, you better get married, Mattie Price, or you better get out of town.
You better get married, Mattie Price, trouble goin' down.
This heat just makes me mad, she just makes me sad,
She should do what everyone says is right.
Quite tryin' her luck, marry some young buck,
I wonder what she's doin' tonight.
Ah, you better get married, Mattie Price, or you better get out of town.
You better get married, Mattie Price, trouble goin' down.
Ah, you better get married, Mattie Price, or you better get out of town.
You better get married, Mattie Price, trouble all around.
Say this deal's about over, and I guess that's true,
Town used to have twelve stores, now we got two.
Big boys movin' in, small farmers movin' on.
The way may be goin', but the life ain't gone.
On a summer evenin' when the corn's head-high,
And there's more lightnin' bugs than stars in the sky.
Ah, you get the feelin' things may be alright,
On a summer evenin' before the dark of night.
Walked down by the river where my good fields are,
It's a dusty old road, but there ain't many cars.
Think about my wife, my daughter and my son,
If the good Lord's still lookin', the Lord's will be done.
But on a summer evenin' when the corn's head-high,
And there's more lightnin' bugs than stars in the sky.
Ah, you get the feelin' things may be alright,
On a summer evenin' before the dark of night.
Mmm, on a summer evenin' when the corn's head-high,
And there's more lightnin' bugs than stars in the sky.
Ah you get the feelin' things may be alright,
On a summer evenin' before the dark of night.
On a summer evenin' before the dark of night.
Why do you even say that, say we'll meet somewhere?
You hardly ever show up, you don't really care.
So why do you even say that, say you got time for me?
You talk but you don't walk, busy as a bee.
I don't think you're all that happy, honey baby, with your thing,
But I ain't some fish you caught, can't keep me on a string.
You say you really love me, then you're gone in seconds flat,
Say you really want me, why do you even say that?
Why do you even say that?
Why do you even say that?
They groan as she passes, their time's gone by,
They wasted their lives in anger and sighs.
They groan as she passes, and make a few cracks,
Once it is gone, it don't come back.
They groan as she passes, she don't even see them,
Their sons are not here, but someday they will be them.
And groan as she passes, and whisper "Oh, fuck,"
My best years are gone, and I'm shit out of luck.
I'm shit out of luck.
There's a whole lotta money in Fairfield, Fairfield, Fairfield,
Whole lotta money in Fairfield,
I'm gonna get me some.
Them floaters they come down here, down here, down here,
Them floaters they come down here,
Fix the whole town up.
If the floaters come to your town, your town, your town,
Floaters come to your town,
You might wanna stick around.
They meditate and get focused, focused, focused,
They do a little hocus pocus,
And the money just rolls in.
They know all 'bout computers, your New Age, and foreign food,
They do all that real good,
Fairfield's where to go.
Mount Pleasant isn't really, really, really,
Mount Pleasant isn't really,
And neither is Burlington.
Well, there ain't no money in Eldon, Pulaski, Keosauqua,
There's a little bit in Ottumwa,
But it's tighter than a drum.
Ah, the Quads are full of dope fiends, blown whores, methamphetamines.
Ball-capped boys and gambling,
And all this sort of stuff.
Fairfield used to be a shithole, a shithole, a shithole,
Fairfield used to be a shithole,
But take a look at it now.
There's a whole lotta money in Fairfield, Fairfield, Fairfield,
Whole lotta money in Fairfield,
I'm gonna get me some.
How come the young fellas keep whippin' my ass?
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
If I was a Catholic, I'd take the last mass.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
How come I don't give a shit about what's goin' on?
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
And I don't come visit, and I don't mow my lawn.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Well, there was a young woman, she gave me a ride, you know.
But it wasn't too long 'til she dumped me off at the side of the road.
There's TV-lookin' people all over the place.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
I think the fuckers must be from outer space.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Well, I used to be a man could make his own plan.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Now ya just gotta get by the best you can.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Well, I'm stuck somewhere down by the Missouri line tonight.
If it wasn't for you, I'd be doin' fine, that's right.
Now when I'm dead just throw me in a ditch.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
And I wish you good luck, you son of a bitch.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Betty Ann, Betty Ann, marry me while you can.
It's the appointed hour, let us make haste.
Them things is knockin', honey, down around your waist.
As it happens, tonight I'm somewhat 'faced.
Betty Ann, Betty Ann, marry me while you can.
Betty Ann, Betty Ann, listen up, understand.
Well, I love you as I've often said
with your hair so black and your eyes so red.
And your old boyfriend, well, Christ, he's dead.
Betty Ann, Betty Ann, marry me while you can.
Betty Ann, Betty Ann, girl the time is at hand.
Ah, the way I see it, we got 'bout three good years.
I know the justice, and I got nine beers.
Stand up woman, dry up them tears.
Betty Ann, Betty Ann, marry me while you can.
Betty Ann.
Betty Ann, Betty Ann, I'm a very lonesome man.
Well, Linda married Donny, Sue married Gene.
Verna married Harold, and Wanda married Dean.
And I got the Zippo, if you got the gasoline.
Betty Ann, Betty Ann, oh, marry me while you can.
Betty Ann, marry me.
Oh Betty Ann.
Oh Betty Ann.
God, I guess I kinda forgot you,
but tonight I remembered your name,
which is why I'm callin' so late,
and I hope that you still feel the same.
But, how have you been doin', darlin'?
Say, don't you know who this?
I'm the one you used to laugh at,
I'm the one you used to kiss.
Well, you got four kids now, ain't that somethin',
Sorry, it must be this phone.
I'm too drunk to read my bible,
too sober to be here alone.
Yeah, well, I'm sorry to bother you,
It's been good to talk to you, too.
Yeah, I know, I won't call again, I promise,
But I never really got over you.
I used to go out quite a lot,
chase to chase and shot to shot.
I'm all done with that somehow,
and it's your town now.
These days the mighty eagle sings,
of money and material things,
and the almighty Dow,
and it's your town now,
your town now,
it's--
From the mountains to the plains
all the towns are wrapped in chains,
and the little that the law allows,
and it's your town now,
it's your town now,
it's--
Where are the young bands gonna play?
Where're the old beatniks gonna stay,
and not before some corporation bow?
and it's your town now,
it's your town now,
it's--
So be careful everyone,
Cops can get careless with their guns.
And then they slip off somehow,
and it's your town now,
it's your town now,
it's--
You young ones it's up to you
to fight the fight and I hope you do,
Oh I see in your eyes that you know how
and it's your town now
your town now.
Don't let 'em take the whole damn deal,
Don't give up on what you really feel.
Ah, the small and local must survive somehow,
if it's gonna be your town now.
Is it gonna be your town now?
Is it gonna be your town now?
Is it gonna be?
Dear wrinkled face,
oh, lover friend.
Best enemy,
I love your hands.
That whole fine mind
every place
I find myself,
dear wrinkled face
Such midnight love
on this cross hung
would have scared us
when we were young.
Our sweat flows down
along this trace
The way is steep,
dear wrinkled face.
Why should we fear
to say God's name?
We are from here,
and go as we came.
We're part of all
this terror and grace.
Give me a kiss,
dear wrinkled face.
Though in this deal
we can't always speak
of what we feel
my legs go weak
when your dark eyes
light up this space,
We're yours, we're mine,
dear wrinkled face.
InaBell is dead, Savior, and we pray that Thou wouldst give us the strength
to lift her and carry her to her grave. InaBell is dead, and, Jesus, we'll
never again hear her gravel-on-the-window voice, her tail-in-the-door
voice. We'll never again see her goiter shake like an old apple in a
windstorm. InaBell is dead and gone home to Thee, oh Precious
Lord. Welcome her with open arms and spread 'em wide. She's dead, oh
Precious Lamb, we're sure of it this time. She went over in her kitchen
with a thud, scattering her Chicken Surprise for her ill-tempered, little,
pop-eyed, slobbering dog, who ate most of it. InaBell is dead and gone and
left us here to carry on and carry her big, fat, annoying ass out to the
grave and bury her deep so she won't get up even in dreams to HOLLER HER
INSANE SHIT AT US! THANK YOU, JESUS! THANK YOU, LORD, FOR TAKING
INABELL!. I bet she was hard to lift, even for Thee.
InaBell is dead. She killed her husband, poor old Pete. She screamed and
hollered him to death with her helium woodpecker voice, pulled at him and
yelled at him and hit him and screamed at him until he had fits and slapped
his own face and talked in tongues (talks in tongues) at the dinner
table. OH, SWEET JESUS CHRIST! INABELL IS FINALLY
DEAD! HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH AND AMEN!
There's a big sale on Tuesday. Big sale on Tuesday, who will buy her angry
purse, forty pounds of frozen pot pies? Who will buy her stiff hairnets
for failed perms, her fly-speckled glasses? Who will buy her girdle that
didn't? Who will buy her hippo bra, and her nylons that woulda fit
pylons? Hey!
Who'llgivemeanickelwho'llgivemeadimewho'llgivemeanickelwho'llgivemeadime,
who'll give me sumpin' for this SHIT?! Who'll buy the little plastic
church that used to light up, the busted pink hairdryer, and half a carton
of menthol cigarettes? Who will buy her cracked bowling ball and enough
knickknacks to sink the Titanic?! Who will buy her sidewalk made out of
storm doors and cardboard and a blown Pontiac full of sparrows and
saplings? Oh, who will buy? Who will buy? Step right up! Who will
buy? Who will buy? Who will buy?
Put a big ol' stone on top of her that says, "InaBell finally shutup and
kicked the bucket!" Big sale on Tuesday.
Like a dog, like a dog, I've sat by your door,
hoping for any scraps you might throw.
And I whine sometimes 'cause I need your love.
And I have loved you like a dog.
Like a dog, like a dog, I'm always there,
while you are out gallivanting somewhere.
One little scratch means everything.
And I have loved you like a dog.
Maybe I shouldn't admit it.
Maybe I shouldn't have tried.
You want somethin', honey, I'll get it.
A dog is not burdened with pride.
Like a dog, like a dog, I leap with joy
when you call my name, call me a good boy.
I wish I had a dog's heart instead of this one.
For I have loved you like a dog.
I have loved you like a dog.
aaaaaoooooooo----
Transcribed by Shirley Cottle.