The Sound of Stomp and Holler - Part 1

Hold On

Quabbin Valley Folk brought this story to me after reading about the long-suffering courthouse and that trembling viaduct on ninety-one. Western Mass has been raising its voice about these issues for years, so we turned it into a song the way folks around here always have, by putting the truth into melody and letting harmony carry the weight. We’ll record it at rehearsal today, keeping it raw and close to the bone, just the way the valley tells its stories. This one is for everyone who has walked those worn halls, driven that cracking road, and wondered when fairness will finally reach the west.

A new one for Quabbin Valley Folk, written from today’s local headlines. Standing up for the west the way our music always has. #adamrsweet #QuabbinValleyFolk #BeaconHillNeglect

Verse 1
I walked down old State Street, early morning light,
Called for jury duty, thought it'd be a simple rite.
But the courthouse looked so weary, its windows stained with rain,
A house of justice left to rust, a home for grief and pain.

Chorus
Beacon Hill neglect, hear the valley call,
From the Quabbin to the river, from the city to the small.
We're not asking for a treasure, just the fairness we expect-
Hear the voices of the west beneath your Beacon Hill neglect.

Verse 2
Inside were empty hallways, doors locked and ceilings stained,
Folks once coughed through moldy air, their voices thin, restrained.
They fled to distant offices, their lungs began to clear-
But the building kept on crumbling, while Boston failed to hear.

Chorus
Beacon Hill neglect, hear the valley call,
From the Quabbin to the river, from the city to the small.
We're not asking for a treasure, just the fairness we expect-
Hear the voices of the west beneath your Beacon Hill neglect.

Verse 3
They say there's plans a-plenty, proposals on the line,
Eleven dreams for starting fresh, but still no shovels find
Their way into the morning dirt, no promise set in ground-
Just years of shifting timelines and hope that circles 'round.

Chorus
Beacon Hill neglect, hear the valley call,
From the Quabbin to the river, from the city to the small.
We're not asking for a treasure, just the fairness we expect-
Hear the voices of the west beneath your Beacon Hill neglect.

Verse 4
And driving to that courthouse, you meet another sign,
The viaduct that trembles as you roll down ninety-one.
The ramps and bends grow brittle, the river hums below,
A road that keeps us tethered, yet makes it hard to go.

Chorus
Beacon Hill neglect, hear the valley call,
From the Quabbin to the river, from the city to the small.
We're not asking for a treasure, just the fairness we expect-
Hear the voices of the west beneath your Beacon Hill neglect.

Verse 5
We're not asking for a favor, no special golden key,
Just roads that hold together and courts where justice breathes.
So hear us in the valleys, the hills where echoes swell-
We're singing for the future that Beacon Hill forgot as well.

Chorus (final)
Beacon Hill neglect, hear the valley call,
From the Quabbin to the river, from the city to the small.
We're not asking for a treasure, just the fairness we expect-
Hear the voices of the west beneath your Beacon Hill neglect.

Beacon Hill Neglect

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The Bottom of It

Taken from Phosphorescent's 'Muchacho' out now on Dead Oceans

Your local record store: http://bit.ly/1mYQtHB
iTunes: http://glnk.it/1xu 
Amazon: http://glnk.it/1xt 
SCD Deluxe Bundle http://www.scdistribution.com/phosphorescent/

Phosphorescent
http://www.deadoceans.com/artist.php?name=phosphorescent
https://www.facebook.com/Phosphorescentmusic
https://twitter.com/Phosphorescent

Song for Zula
Some say love is a burning thing 
That it makes a fiery ring
Oh but I know love as a fading thing
Just as fickle as a feather in a stream
See, honey, I saw love. You see, it came to me
It put its face up to my face so I could see
Yeah then I saw love disfigure me
Into something I am not recognizing

See, the cage, it called. I said, "Come on in"
I will not open myself up this way again
Nor lay my face to the soil, nor my teeth to the sand
I will not lay like this for days now upon end
You will not see me fall, nor see me struggle to stand
To be acknowledge by some touch from his gnarled hands
You see, the cage, it called. I said, "Come on in"
I will not open myself up this way again

You see, the moon is bright in that treetop night
I see the shadows that we cast in the cold, clean light
My feet are gold. My heart is white
And we race out on the desert plains all night
See, honey, I am not some broken thing
I do not lay here in the dark waiting for thee
No my heart is gold. My feet are light
And I am racing out on the desert plains all night

So some say love is a burning thing
That it makes a fiery ring
Oh but I know love as a caging thing
Just a killer come to call from some awful dream
O and all you folks, you come to see
You just stand there in the glass looking at me
But my heart is wild. And my bones are steam
And I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free

Muchacho

Song for Zula

Buy via SCDistribution

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Loose sampler CD & download, features an exclusive new song from The Handsome Family.

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'Gathering' out now! http://smarturl.it/gatheringall

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