This is a cover of a hymn written sometime in the 12th Century, which evolved into something more folky and common. Although it comes from France, we ask that you excuse our MIDDLE ENGLISH. Kidding. This is the more recent version. You should be able to understand it. Lyrically, it's a summary of the four creatures at the side of Jesus Christ on the day He was born ~and a telling of what they offered. This is perfect for the time you want your children to believe in the story...AND have faith in animals talking. 

Paul Ivey drives the guitar (and bass), and sings back-up while i take the lead and supply the drumming. Steve Wilson, Jr. (no relation to MLK or Robert Downey, Jr.) recorded this rendition somewhat inspired by The Louvin Brothers who sang this more than half a Century ago !!

The Friendly Beasts

Here's a wacky version of "Christmas at the Zoo," a song (written by Wayne Coyne of The Flaming Lips)and featured on the 1995 album. 

Paul Ivey plays guitar and i get the drums...he sings backup vocals...and i sound dorky/hokey/corny as the lead part. But please DO enjoy it. 

Steve Wilson, Jr. (of Precious Fluids) recorded this one, too...

Christmas At The Zoo

Here is my rendition of "Mississippi," recorded and produced by Michael Boothby.

"Mississippi"

Written by Bob Dylan.
Lyrics:

A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers’ blood
 A finger fired the trigger to his name
 A handle hid out in the dark
 A hand set the spark
 Two eyes took the aim
 Behind a man’s brain
 But he can’t be blamed
 He’s only a pawn in their game
 
 A South politician preaches to the poor white man
 “You got more than the blacks, don’t complain.
 You’re better than them, you been born with white skin,” they explain.
 And the Negro’s name
 Is used it is plain
 For the politician’s gain
 As he rises to fame
 And the poor white remains
 On the caboose of the train
 But it ain’t him to blame
 He’s only a pawn in their game
 
 The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid
 And the marshals and cops get the same
 But the poor white man’s used in the hands of them all like a tool
 He’s taught in his school
 From the start by the rule
 That the laws are with him
 To protect his white skin
 To keep up his hate
 So he never thinks straight
 ’Bout the shape that he’s in
 But it ain’t him to blame
 He’s only a pawn in their game
 
 From the poverty shacks, he looks from the cracks to the tracks
 And the hoofbeats pound in his brain
 And he’s taught how to walk in a pack
 Shoot in the back
 With his fist in a clinch
 To hang and to lynch
 To hide ’neath the hood
 To kill with no pain
 Like a dog on a chain
 He ain’t got no name
 But it ain’t him to blame
 He’s only a pawn in their game.
 
 Today, Medgar Evers was buried from the bullet he caught
 They lowered him down as a king
 But when the shadowy sun sets on the one
 That fired the gun
 He’ll see by his grave
 On the stone that remains
 Carved next to his name
 His epitaph plain:
 Only a pawn in their game


Only A Pawn In Their Game

Written by Bob Dylan

What the lyrics are SUPPOSED to be (sorry, i was hyper):

 I’ve seen love go by my door
 It’s never been this close before
 Never been so easy or so slow
 Been shooting in the dark too long
 When somethin’s not right it’s wrong
 Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go
 
 Dragon clouds so high above
 I’ve only known careless love
 It’s always hit me from below
 This time around it’s more correct
 Right on target, so direct
 Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go
 
 Purple clover, Queen Anne’s Lace
 Crimson hair across your face
 You could make me cry if you don’t know
 Can’t remember what I was thinkin’ of
 You might be spoilin’ me too much, love
 Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go
 
 Flowers on the hillside, bloomin’ crazy
 Crickets talkin’ back and forth in rhyme
 Blue river runnin’ slow and lazy
 I could stay with you forever and never realize the time
 
 Situations have ended sad
 Relationships have all been bad
 Mine’ve been like Verlaine’s and Rimbaud
 But there’s no way I can compare
 All those scenes to this affair
 Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go
 
 Yer gonna make me wonder what I’m doin’
 Stayin’ far behind without you
 Yer gonna make me wonder what I’m sayin’
 Yer gonna make me give myself a good talkin’ to
 
 I’ll look for you in old Honolulu
 San Francisco, Ashtabula
 Yer gonna have to leave me now, I know
 But I’ll see you in the sky above
 In the tall grass, in the ones I love
 Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go

You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go

Personally dedicating this to Josie Varnier Stone.

Written by Bob Dylan

Lyrics:

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
Every time I think about him now
Lord I just can't keep from cryin'
'Cause he was a friend of mine

He died on the road
He died on the road
He never had enough money
To pay his room or board
And he was a friend of mine

I stole away and cried
I stole away and cried
'Cause I never had too much money
And I never been quite satisfied
And he was a friend of mine

He never done no wrong
He never done no wrong
A thousand miles from home
And he never harmed no one
And he was a friend of mine

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
Every time I hear his name
Lord I just can't keep from cryin'
'Cause he was a friend of mine.

S/He Was A Friend Of Mine

A traditional song which Bob Dylan covered very well on his album World Gone Wrong. 

His arranged lyrics:

Woke up this morning, feeling blue,
 Seen a good-lookin' girl, can I make love with you?
 Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,
 Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you.
 I got blood in my eyes for you, babe,
 I don't care what in the world you do.
 
 I went back home, put on my tie,
 Gonna get that girl that money that money will buy.
 Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,
 Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you.
 I got blood in my eyes for you, babe,
 I don't care what in the world you do.
 
 She looked at me, begin to smile,
 Said, "Hey, hey, man, can't you wait a little while?"
 No, no, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,
 No, no, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you.
 Got blood in my eyes for you, babe,
 I don't care what in the world you do.
 
 
 No, no, ma'ma, I can't wait,
 You got my money, now you're trying to break this date.
 Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,
 Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you.
 I got blood in my eyes for you, babe,
 I don't care what in the world you do.
 
 I tell you something, tell you the facts,
 You don't want me, give my money back.
 Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you,
 Hey, hey, babe, I got blood in my eyes for you.
 I got blood in my eyes for you, babe,
 I don't care what in the world you do.

Blood In My Eyes

Written by John Hiatt, recorded and produced by Evan Bateman at RVA Studios, with herschel Stratego on lead vocals and baritone ukelele, with Paul Ivey on lead and rhythm guitars and back-up vocals, with Andy Wilson (of Precious Fluids) on the Snare Drum and Steve Wilson, Jr. (of Precious Fluids) on bass. 

Howlin' Down the Cumberland

Welcome to my Sound CLOUD COVERAGE.
Here're my versions of songs other people wrote.
If you want to hear my OWN songs...sorry, blame it on shyness or something, but they’re usually played live at shows...wow, how backwards is that !?!!??

herschelSTRATEGO

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