Georgia's in the backyard crying real heavy, dreaming about the places she's never been.
Lily has to sleep in the back of a Chevy, believing that wealth is just a tally of sin.
Bobby's on his front porch playing guitar, hoping like hell the bank forgets.
Billy's on the highway in a stolen car trying like the devil to outrun his debts.

CHORUS
But don't you cry, Robyn, don't you cry.
I'm gonna do my best to help you fly.

Julie did her hair and did up her nails, waiting for a lover who ain't been born.
Dylan's getting bored of sleeping in jails and wants to resign his crown of thorns.
Little baby Lacy is hoping that daddy can keep out the wolves that gather in the night.
Daddy's in the kitchen with 80-proof whiskey, passed out at the table, the door open wide.

CHORUS

Howard's got his chips in the middle of the pot, all in on a draw to an inside straight.
Lisa grabs the phone all bothered and hot, wondering what luck's doing up this late?
Tony believes he's a poet and a prophet, gonna save the soul of the common man.
Jessi pleads "Baby, won't you come off it, we're too far gone to even give a damn..

CHORUS


Robyn's Lullaby

Do you ever get the feeling that no matter what you're doing
There's always someone out there doing it better than you?
It can make a man go sleepless tossing and turning in the night
Looking in the mirror, he'll have to face up to the truth.
I got mine.
I got mine.

CHORUS
Call up the devil I got a helluva a deal.
He can have my soul for practically a steal.
Don't want a grammy, don't wanna be a star.
I just want to write one song on Guy Clark's guitar.

I've tried to write on whiskey I've even tried to write on dope.
Thinking they were inspirations or even his muse.
How the hell can one man come up with LA Freeway,
Last Gunfighter, Randall Knife and Home Grown Tomatoes too?
It ain't fair.
No, it ain't fair.

CHORUS

He swears there ain't no secret just hard work like any job,
Does he know his words haunt a lot of song writers' dreams?
If it aint the Texas desert air, I guess I only have one hope.
I bet there's one more song he ain't found hidden in them strings.
My only chance.
My only chance.

CHORUS x 2


Guy Clark's Guitar

I can be your friend, I can be your monster
Turn your back on me then I'll haunt you
You'll hold my hand as we streak the sky
Wake up tomorrow cursing last night

I'm mama's touch easing your pain 
Sell your pride cheap to know my name
Been called a curse by exes jaded
I've been worshiped like a leper, hated

I'll make you smile when you're crying
You know want me when you feel like dying
I sear like poison every time I'm tasted
You'll move the heavens so that I'm not wasted

You credit genius while I breed fools
I'm your best friend making our own rules
Today you love me tomorrow's hatred
Voodoo savior top secret sacred

Some say I'm prison stand and defend me
I am redemption at the cost of misery 
I'm the cold hard truth I'm the serpents lie.
Just take a deep breath then I'll blow your mind

The Dragon's Song

Run amigo run like the mountains caving in.
Devil's got a warrant and he beckons me to him.
Broken vows with lovers, left my guns upon a shelf.
The only hate inside me, I hold for myself.
The pictures I have painted to appease a tortured soul.
Christened me a martyr on a cross of foolish gold.
On a cross of foolish gold.

Susanna, sweet Susanna come sit upon knee.
Let love be the answer for the daily mystery.
Swore we'd live forever,  ah the arrogance of youth
Here I am an old man paying interest on the dues.
Midnight interrupted with the rhythm of a plea.
From the great divide, my brother calls to me.
Can't you hear him call to me?

The denim poet and the gypsy kid
Never said I'm sorry for the way they lived.
Tough as Spanish leather, honest as the wind
The denim poet and the gypsy kid ride again.

Some came from the ether,  some came in a dream.
Some of them were cosmic, but not a one was free.
Some of them came easy, for some we had to wait
Some were Dylan Thomas, some of them were Hank.
We offered up our souls, only way we knew to write.
Every heart gets broken, we just crafted ours to rhyme.
We just crafted ours to rhyme.

Cool as Cassanova, troubled troubadours
Cliches and contradictions as they sought a metaphor..
We mourn the words unwritten,  songs that'll never be
Too proud to beg for quarter, figured mercy out of reach.
Now the gypsy's free to fly high, the poet's work is done,
It's fiddle tunes and old friends, pass the bottle kind of fun.
Pass the bottle kind of fun.

The Denim Poet And The Gypsy Kid

Maybe Jane will call if she gets lonely
The jokers and the rakes have headed home.
Looking for a way to beat the boredom.
While missing what its like to sing along.

Maybe Jane will pick up if I called her,
Answer with "I hoped to hear from you."
We were never fated  for each other.
Good enough sometimes just has to do.

BRIDGE
I can't recall exactly how we started
Some good ol' days lost out to better booze.
I'm guessing one of us was broken hearted
While the other was out trying to save a fool.

Maybe Jane is building expectations
I've dialed her phone  at least a dozen times.
But I know she can't stand it sleeping solo
And I could use the way she tells a lie.

Maybe Jane has found a better lover
Could be she don't want the things I bring.
She laughs at women crying over movies
And loves the cynicism side of me.

Maybe Jane would smile if I found someone.
Wish me well and every word the truth.
Maybe Jane will be there when I fuck up
Since we both know that's what I always do.

BRIDGE
She's never been too busy for an old friend
Except when last night ravages her head.
I asked if she was decent when I walked in,
To find a few more questions in the bed

Maybe Jane grew tired of accusations
Of how the love she gave made her a whore
Maybe she had done all she had wanted
But Jane ain't gonna call me any more.


Maybe Jane

“Vaya con dios mi amore"
That's what i told you on the street
What you said as you peeled away
Ain't fit to say in mixed company.
You took the dog and all the whiskey
The one guitar that stayed in tune.
The last half a pack of cigarettes
Then screamed away from our avenue.

CHORUS
Are you proud now that I'm broken?
You wrecked my heart, my soul, and more
Left me crying like a baby
Seeking shelter from the storm.

Here I am and there you are
I wonder if I cross your mind?
Or am I just like last night's dreams
A simple moment passed in time.
I swear I still see you sleeping
Your perfume lingers in the fan
Like the tell tale heart attack
There's no coming back from where I am.

CHORUS

Then there's the trip we made to Memphis
Dressed in 9's for Beale Street Blues.
We got lost in all the hubbub
of W.C. Handy and barbecue
We danced all night to that guitar player
I think Blind Jerry was his name.
He couldn't sing to save his soul
But played guitar like Stevie Ray.    

CHORUS


Are You Proud

I gave you everything and even some I never had.
Dreams were few in coming true, all in all in wasn't bad.
Never was your first choice but still a choice you made.
Yesterday's not history when it's front page news today.

CHORUS
I'm standing here in silence as you're telling me goodbye.
With your heart as cold as winter and a pair of strangers eyes.

I can picture every moment of that moonless summer night.
Except what I was thinking thinking I was Mr. Right.
Your smile it hypnotized me 'til all I wanted was a kiss.
One thing led to another how the hell did it lead to this.

CHORUS

Promises are nothing more than oaths we craft on pride.
As if our words were shelter from the winds of change and time.
When you said  "I do", were your fingers crossed behind your back?
Don't bother justifying you're too long gone for that.

Chorus


Stranger's Eyes

They say Luke the drifter died from a broken heart
The whiskey flowed like water made a martyr for his art.
But it wasn’t pretty Audrey and it wasn’t Billie Jean
It was a broken back that killed ol’ Hank, it’ll be the death of me.

John Henry was a working man, slung a hammer for his pay
Hoisting jacks and laying tracks from dawn to dusk each day.
Then that ol’ steam drill came calling, it never left that cave
His reward for winning was a cold and lonesome grave.

Steve Earle has told you all about the Oxycontin blues
I can tell you here and now that every word is true.
Percocet and fentanyl and a little morphine too
I’ve taken everything prescribed and some the law says not to.

It ain’t the pain that scares me most it’s the future in a chair
Knowing soon I’ll be a cross for someone else to bare.
Can’t teach my son to catch a fly or walk my daughters when they wed.
It turns out there’s some things worse than sailing off with death.

One granddad was a lumberjack in the woods of the miramichi
The other worked on cars and grandma rubbed his back to sleep
Daddy worked a whole week straight to puts gifts beneath the tree
I wonder what the three of them would think of a bum like me.

I don’t know why you stick with me why you never hit the door
A woman like you in her prime deserves a whole lot more.
If it wasn’t for you baby I’d’ve hung myself or bled.
You’re the only counter to the demons in my head.


Broken Back Blues

Fireflies in the mirror, blackjack in the hole x2
Evil voodoo girl wants to steal my soul

Here comes the lover long legged and lean x2
She's craving a bad boy who beat her mean

CHORUS
Now play, music man, play
Warp another rhyme
Everyone in the house is clapping
While Judas swinging keeps the time

Cruising to the crossroads keyed on gin and speed x2
I'm selling you cheap, boys, for my weight in jelly beans

There's whistler's mother teaching Einstein to crunk x2
Lincoln's in the corner, waiting for the funk

CHORUS


Don Vito's going all in, praying for the inside straight x2
But who's God to side with the pope holding triple 8's

Ain't nothing quite the turn on as a woman moaning blues x2
And I'm always up for helping them ladies with another tune.


Judas Swing Blues

See that old man sitting at the bar.
With the stained t-shirt and the left cheek scar?
For a beer he'll play his mandolin.
Bring tears to your eye with his Uncle Pen.

Drove all day saw Bill Monroe.
Just him and his son and an open road.
All the way home it was play, rewind.
His son singing tenor and clapping time.

CHORUS
Everyday he'd say
I'm gonna learn to play.
That ol' mandolin
And by God, he did.
And he'll play for you since he can't for them.

His wife finally left him alone last June.
She's been gone since they lay the boy in his tomb.
He loves her today like he loved her then
But some wounds don't heal and some hearts don't mend.

CHORUS

He prays to God, then cusses his name.
Looking for more than bad luck to blame.
If he saw his son, would he recognize him,
Would he still love the sound of the mandolin.

CHORUS

Rob Whalen 4