Lyrics for Slant 6 Mind
Copyright © 1997 Hacklebarney Music
- Whatever It Was
- Loneliness House
- Mose Allison Played Here
- Spring and All
- Vivid
- Dusty Woods
- Billy from the Hills
- Speaking in Tongues
- Enough
- Hurt So Nice
- Wild Like A Sonny Boy
- Down at the Mill
- Why Don't You Just Go Home?
She's got a slant 6 mind and a supercharged heart,
The little princess is singing about her parts,
She says, "Come hither", but when I get hither she is yon.
I was looking for what I loved. Whatever it was, it's gone.
TV spreads and tension mounts,
Like a guy in a bra it's the idea that counts,
It's a picture of a picture of a whore holding a picture of a john.
I was looking for what I loved...
In the chemical fields by ammonia light,
I would offer my prayer to the Corn Goddess tonight,
but they chopped off her head and stuck her body out on the lawn.
I was looking for what I loved...
My generation takes what it can get,
Are you surprised that the kids are all upset?
They're looking at Nothing and Nothing turns away and yawns.
I was looking for what I loved...
Can't go to the country - the country isn't there,
It got chopped up and mortgaged and vanished in thin air,
It's a paint-by-number and it costs a million bucks down at the pawn.
I was looking for what I loved...
An electronic head and feet of clay,
gonna be a lotta roadkill on the Information Highway,
Someone stole the video of the everfresh and lovely dawn.
I was looking for what I loved...
You might be streetwise. You might be real bad,
I guess you forgot that you also are a dad,
Your kids won't forget it when they're trying to find someone to lean on
I was looking for what I loved...
The little towns are lying on their faces,
All that's left are fading parking spaces,
It's been quite a week, there was a drive-by shooting in Lake Wobegon.
I was looking for what I loved...
A Native American told me this whole deal's a mistake,
and this implosion is just icing on the cake,
If the Great Spirit is gambling, I'd say the con is a bigger con.
I was looking for what I loved...
I went into the loneliness house,
went on in and I locked the door,
Seen a lot of trouble when I was out and about,
I might not come out no more.
Pulled down the shades in the loneliness house,
I don't like it when the light's too bright,
People in the neighborhood, I seen 'em shout,
"You're right down the street from Love and Delight."
Sometimes my baby gets so sad,
She stopped by the other day,
I wouldn't answer and she got mad,
She said, "When you gonna come back out and play?"
Like an old grizzly down in his den,
snorting and growling and turning about,
Maybe if I smell Spring on the wind,
I might think about coming back out.
It gets pretty quiet in the loneliness house,
There is trouble in the city, everybody screaming,
Once in a while I look out,
and it seems like you're just better off dreaming.
It gets kind of lonely in the loneliness house,
but the rain will freeze and the sun will scorch,
I hate to leave my dreams and doubts,
but I think I might go sit on the porch.
The joint is a dump
the owner is broke
at least that's what he said
the p.a.'s a joke
the waitpersons are snotty, the bartender's rude
they want to make sure I know they forgot me
but not their attitude
the bellyachers played last night
everybody got sick
don't even try dancing, your feet would just stick
the band signs their poster
"fuck u miguel"
and that's all the good part
the bad part's the smell
and what was your name again, oh - yeah - right - brown
your crowd just drinks water
surprised you're still around
and nobody's coming, because hey man you see
advertising's expensive, hey, what guarantee
but as I set up I am proud to be here
because once last November, Mose Allison played here.
Spring and what's left of the hippies return from old rooming houses and
Mexico.
More letters, more journals, more poems to burn; Real heat at last.
At last my words glow.
My friend Jim just broke up his band, the guys all have jobs and the nights
got too long.
He's selling the amps, one guitar, and the van.
I'm sure you could have it all for a song.
Snow on the north side, trash in the yard, love like a newspaper tattered
and stained.
A two bourbon twilight, fog from God's cigar.
the neighbor's retarded dog chasing the train.
Don't see any good in just hanging around, take a tip from the birds and
change the scene.
Find some long river and follow it down to where our old sins have washed
up in New Orleans.
Spring and what's left of the songbirds return, to fight about loving and
nesting and such.
Thanks for the letters you sent back to burn.
Their smoke is as light, and as dark, as your touch.
You gave me flowers, all wet with dew,
You gave me flowers, I'd like to give you something too.
Vivid flowers, raggedy yellow red and blue,
Smell of rain and summer. Vivid, just like you.
You gave me music with the bouquet from your hand,
You gave me a living song, something I could understand.
Let's go walking when the party is through,
You gave me so much, I want to give you something too.
(a vision of Robert Johnson)
He's riding in the back of a wagon and his city choes are dragging
and the sweat is pouring down his back
One eye west and one eye south
Two words fall out his mouth
He jumps down, waves, walks across the railroad track
He's in some dusty woods outside of town
Got a piece of paper folded in four, a stub pencil from the hardware store,
and a guitar that looks like it's been used
The birds shut down their song
He can't stay too long
There's something up ahead he's just got to do
He licks the pencil, looks around, writes a few words down,
and pulls a moan from his guitar
A hound dog answers low and he stands up real slow
He's got a ways to go, he don't know how far
He's in some dusty woods outside of town.
No one now knows too much about these woods,
They got lost, they wouldn't know where to go.
Tribe's been gone a long time, small farmers got blowed out,
Maybe there ain't even that much left to know.
You can strip the trees, foul the streams, try to hide in a progressive dream.
Ease into the comfort that kills.
Before I do that, I'll grab my pack,
And disappear with Billy from the hills.
Blood flows back and back and back and back,
Like a river from a secret source.
I feel it wild in me; I pitched my camp
At the fork where knowledge meets remorse.
Women sing in me that song from the ancient fire,
I just open my mouth and what comes out gives me chills.
I got my song from a secret place,
I got my face from Billy from the hills.
A 40-inch barrel on that shotgun,
Steel traps in a cane pack on his back.
Eighteen years old, surrounded by the Ozarks,
Ain't one little bit of that boy that's slack.
If you're looking for a helping hand,
He'll give you one, you know he will.
If you're looking for trouble, huh-uh, turn around,
You don't want to mess with Billy from the hills.
Some folks dance cool, all angles and swaying hips,
Sensual as all get out and in.
Me, I'm a hick, and I dance like one,
I just kind of jump around and grin.
I know a guy, he doesn't dance too much,
But when he does, he gives everyone a thrill
You might run away or suck it up and stay,
When he dances, Billy from the hills.
There's a lantern lit on a Missouri night,
A woman writing poems by a stove.
She knows the fox's whereabouts by knoll, by gulch, by yelp,
As he runs at night through her mother love.
Her memory to me is like watercress from a spring-fed stream,
Fresh and aching as a mockingbird's trill.
She lives in me; I try to look until
I can see for her and her boy, Billy from the hills.
It's a drifting time, people are fascinated by screens,
No idea what's on the other side.
We stare at doom like an uptight groom,
And live our lives like a drunken bride.
Tonight I feel something on the wind,
Deep inside where we have to die or kill.
Something I know I didn't know I knew,
I learned from Billy from the hills.
A wild high cry flew up out of our brother
He was moaning and shaking, shining like the sun
He fell down like a dead man, Some people helped him up
He was all right, He was just speaking in tongues
When someone was sick we gathered all around them
and lay our hands upon them, all of us, old and young
We prayed that God Almighty would heal them
Our prayer was in English, but we was all just speaking in tongues
When I really feel my way back to that church and them people
the little hairs stand up all over me
and I hope that this nation like that congregation
will give it up and pray for our soul, which is in misery
and that one day we may lay our hands on one another
and seek the healing for ourselves, this earth and our young
and sing that old song of many colors, many rhythms
and listen with our hearts to the speaking in tongues.
When your head come forward
and you dance all about
your legs start shaking
and your tongue hung out
Its enough, goddammit, it's enough
when the room was moving
to that dance you done
when you kicked off your boot
and put out the sun
when the house was rocking
and the stars keep time
fruit starts jumping
right off the vine
it's enough, goddammit, it's enough
when you woman your woman
and I man my man
and we get to loving
oh honey like we can
it's enough, goddammit, it's enough
standing out here
looking at the sky
feeling you
I shout up on high
it's enough, goddammit, it's enough
It hurts so nice I told you once I told you twice, You slapped my face and
threw the rice, The storm was wild but you went out and ain't back yet, I
bet you're wet and now it's late and life's a great big surprise. It hurts
so nice.
It hurts so good I knew it could, Too many nights love was polite not hard
or deep, Put me to sleep, I dreamed of you all painted blue and doing this
and it came true, You are so crude. It hurts so good.
It hurts so much, your muscle touch my this and that your such and such,
Help me up off the floor, No, Push me down once more, It feels so good you
leave me limp, Don't get married to that wimp. It hurts so much.
Life is brief but not too short I miss the way you scream and snort, The
other girls are too soft, They want romance in a loft, You and me we're
from the woods and we make it hurt so good, Come back baby, We suffice, I'm
your boy. It hurts so nice.
He's wild like a Sonny Boy, That one eye looks at you
He wild like a Sonny Boy, Other's on Voodoo
He's wild like a bad dog, Gotta howl once more
He'll dog it all night, and then scratch scratch at your door
He blows in when he wants something, Then he's gone without a trace
You get some Jim Beam in him, watch out, he'll hit you in the face
Rigor mortis, Pandemonium, it depends upon the night
'cause he's wild like a Sonny Boy, hmmm yeah well not quite
I heard he holed up somewhere, then I seen him downtown
I'm usually glad to see him, if I see him around,
'cause he's wild like a Sonny Boy.
Down at the mill, down at the mill,
the mill broke down, it's broken still.
I never did find you, and I guess I never will,
unless you meet me down at the mill.
It's always August, sweat on your neck,
you do the work but you never see a check.
Fat Annie waiting for you - man, if looks could kill,
you never would have woke this morning, down at the mill.
Young guys on motorcycles, hard eyes, hardons,
go chasing through the woods to the muddy yellow pond.
Their hands are filthy, their souls are dirty,
they shoot the shit with a 30-30.
Down at the mill, down at the mill,
grampa spit tobacco at a barrel full of swill.
There's a sawdust mountain and a slabwood hill
and Jim Beam on the jammer, down at the mill.
Dammit now I told you, goddammit I said
get that little bastard Frank, smack him on the head.
I'm on my way to Jesus but I'm moving slow,
If you think that you can take me, c'mon, let's go.
Grease of the engine, whine of the saw,
the trouble with the customers, they're all in-laws,
Don't even ask them about the way they feel,
they're all broke down like the damn old mill.
There's a whipporwill in the rolling hills,
It'll drive you crazy, give you the chills.
There's a barn that got smaller, and the blowed out cars,
Beans climb up to the falling stars.
Why don't you just go home,
why don't you just go home.
You've had enough wine and it's lamplighting time,
Why don't you just go home.
It's always too hot except when it's too cold,
The dogs is all rascals and the chickens are old.
God hung the moon way too low in the sky,
You're always laughing except when you cry.
Company for supper when the day is through,
people talk funny, just like you.
New vines from the old dirt, now ain't that sweet,
New songs from the old tunes to tap our feet.
Why don't you just go home,
why don't you just go home.
The trip has been fine, now it's lamplighting time,
Why don't you just go home.
Transcribed by Shirley Cottle.