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Cowboy Junkies
Cowboy Junkies


Информация
Откуда Toronto, Canada
Жанры Indie Rock
Blues Rock
Folk-Rock
Country Rock
Alternative Country
Americana
Годы 1986—н.в.
Лейблы RCA Records
Geffen Records
Latent Recordings
См. также Jeff Bird
Сайт Website
Состав
Michael Timmins
Alan Anton
Peter Timmins
Margo Timmins



Альбом Cowboy Junkies


Black Eyed Man (11.02.1992)
11.02.1992
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. . .


The flies have quit their buzzing
Even Bear has stopped his barking
They all sense something brewing
Up the James and headed this wayBobby sips his morning coffee
Says 'Have you finished with the funnies
Looks like a storm's coming honey
Guess we'll have to stay in bed today'I've heard that into every life
A little of it must fall
If there's any truth to the saying,
Lord, let it be a southern rainMarie was born in Macon, Georgia
She met a west coast lawyer
He plucked that sweet magnolia
And carried her to the hills of West L.A.She says 'I never thought I'd tire of a dollar
But this life has grown so hollow
Every night there's lipstick on his collar
And every morning I wash it away'She heard that into every life
A little of it must fall
So she spends her evenings praying
For a little of that southern rainCars alive on city streets
Of sparkling black water
Like waves beneath my window
Never break just roll away
Tonight, this rain will be my lullaby
These cars, my dreams
To carry me home to stayThe wipers beat a rhythm
Truck spray obscures my vision
But I'm closing in on my destination
Two more hours and I'll be at your doorAnd it will never cease to amaze me
How a little rain can drive folks crazy
When I'd trade all my blue skies gladly
For your blue eyes, crooked smile
And a steady downpourI've heard that into every life
A little of it must fall,
But you'll never catch me complaining
About too much of that southern rain

. . .


The hoods are up on Pine Street,
Rear ends lifted too
The great-grandsons of General Robert E. Lee
Are making love with a little help from STP
Their women on the porches comparing alibisGreasy eggs and bacon,
Bumper stickers aimed to start a fight,
Full gun racks, Confederate caps,
If you want some 'shine
Well, you can always find some more,
But what I remember most is the colour of Suzy's doorAnd Suzy says she's up there
Cutting carrots still
And Suzy says she's missing me
So I'm missing Oregon HillA river to the south
To wash away all sins
A college to the east of us
To learn where sin begins
A graveyard to the west of it all
Which I may soon be lying in'Cause to the north there is a prison
Which I've come to call my home,
But some Monday morning no country song
Will sing me home againAnd Suzy says she's up there
Cutting carrots still
And Suzy says she's missing me
So I'm missing Oregon HillSunday morning, eight A.M.,
Sirens fill the air
Sounds like someone made the river
Sounds like someone being born again
Me, I'm just lying here in Suzy's bedBaptists celebrating with praises to the Lord,
Rednecks doing it with gin
Me and Suzy, we're celebrating
The joy of sleeping in
Because tomorrow I'll be home againBut Suzy says she'll wait there
Cutting carrots by the window sill
And Suzy says, 'Always think of me
When you think of Oregon Hill'

. . .


This street holds its secrets like a cobra holds its kill
This street minds its business like a jailer minds his jail
That house there is haunted
That door's a portal to hell
This street holds its secrets very wellThat man wears his skin like a dancer wears her veils
That man stalks his victims like a cancer stalks a cell
That man's soul has left him his heart's as deadly as a rusty nail
That man sheds his skin like a veilLord, you play a hard game, you know we follow every rule
Then you take the one thing we thought we'd never lose
All I ask is if she's with you please keep her warm and safe
And if it's in your power please purge the memory of this placeThis life holds its secrets like a sea shell holds the sea,
Soft and distant calling like a fading memory
This life has its victories but its defeats tear so viciously
This life holds its secrets like the sea

. . .


The money would be pretty good
If a quart of milk were still a dollar
Or even if a quart of milk were still a quart
And the hours, well, I don't mind
How they creep on by like an old love of mine
It's the years that simply disappear that are doing me inGuess I married too young,
Yeah, nineteen was just too young,
But sometimes you meet someone
And your guts just burn
It's not that I don't love him anymore
It's just that when I hear him
Coming through that front door
My heart doesn't race like it did once beforeBut I've got a horse out in the country
I get to see him every second Sunday
He comes when I call him,
Yeah, he knows his name
One day I'll saddle up
And the two of us will ride awayThis weather I could almost stand
If the sun would shine a little brighter
Or even if the sun would shine at all
But lately it just seems to me
That this life has lost its mystery
And these cold fall mornings seem to bite
Just a little bit harderAnd all my friends have settled down
Become their mothers and their fathers
Without a sound
Except for Cathy,
She bought a one-way subway ticket
And left us all behindBut I've got a horse out in the country
I get to see him every second Sunday
He comes when I call him,
Yeah, he knows his name
One day I'll saddle up
And the two of us will ride awayThis town wouldn't be so bad
If a girl could trust her instincts
Or even if a girl could trust a boy

. . .


If you were the woman and I was the man
Would I send you yellow roses
Would I dare to kiss your hand?
In the morning would I caress you
As the wind caresses the sand,
If you were the woman and I was the man?If I was the heart and you were the head
Would you think me very foolish
If one day I decided to shed
These walls that surround me
Just to see where these feelings led,
If I was the heart and you were the head?If I was the woman and you were the man
Would I laugh if you came to me
With your heart in your hand
And said, 'I offer you this freely
And will give you all that I can
Because you are the woman
And I am the man?'

. . .


Murder tonight in the trailer park
Mrs. Annabelle Evans found
With her throat cut after dark
Her pockets turned inside out
Her dresser drawers turned upside down
Anna's neighbour, Peg, identifies the body
Lets out a hollow kind of soundHomicide is tying yellow ribbons
Around her silver Airstream
Red cherries slashing up the night
Cutting through that cordoned crime scene
There's been a murder
In the trailer park tonightMurder tonight in the trailer park
Pack your things Ann Marie,
We're heading west
We're going to make a fresh start
I've been saving pennies,
Been looking forward to this day
No time for questions are you coming
Or are you going to stay?Crosstown at the Waterton
George Evans is sitting tall and tight,
Buying drinks for all the regulars
Bragging about how them bones
Danced for him tonight
There's been a murder
In the trailer park tonightMurder tonight in the trailer park
Faceless man counting crumpled bills,
Hotel neon fights the dark
TV set in the corner, they're talking murder
On the late-night news
He turns down the sound,
Waits for the sports,
He only wants to know,
'Did I win or did I lose'There's been a murder
In the trailer park tonight
Murder tonight in the trailer park

. . .


Black eyed man he took the blame
For the poisoning of the well
They found this shoes by the pulley
They found his fingerprints all over the pailBlack eyed man I'm warning you
The people around here
Will not be fooled by a simple line or twoYes your honour I do solemnly swear
That I saw him late last night,
Dancing barefoot, bathed in light
And reaching for every star in sight
Yes I did go to him,
But completely against my will
And yes he did things to me
Things of which I dream of stillBlack eyed man I'm warning you
What I say is what you'll do
To hell with love and truthI always meant to say I'm sorry
For all the things I said and did
'Sorry,' I feel better now, do you?
But you promised me the sky
And fell short a star or two
What else did you expect me to do?Black eyed man he took the blame
For the poisoning of the well
They found his shoes by the pulley
They found his fingerprints all over the pail
With a noose around his neck,
Cicadas trilling everywhere,
He says to the people gathered round him,
'it ain't the water that's not right around here'Black eyed man I'm thirsty dear
Be a love and bring some water here
Drawn fresh from the well

. . .


She says, 'it's cold where you brought me'
He says, 'Darling, don't worry
You can stay in my arms
Until the springtime comes
We'll let the snow drift around us
And wait for the robin and the crocus
To tell us that our love has again found the sun'Lone oak stands tall,
Bare arms scratch the sky,
Dry leaves cracking beneath our feet
Hand in hand we've watched
The autumn fires burn -
Summer's dreams collapsing,
Chestnuts in need of gathering,
The whole world lies rotting in the streetSoon we will walk with collars high
Like ramparts raised for the siege
We'll bow to her beauty,
Cower from her fury
Sent as a judgement for a slight
Long past forgotten
Winter's love once again unrequited
Winter's love once again unrequitedShe says, 'Babe are you sleeping?'
He says, 'No, wide awake and thinking
Of a dream I just had about the two of us
He takes his hand to her cheek now,
His lips to her brow,
Their whispers pile softly
By the foot of the bed

. . .


Mornings feel so damn sad these days
Without the call of the 8:15
That old familiar echo
Has finally died away
Leaving nothing but a chill
Where there once was a mighty screamAnd I've watched the flat cars
Take away our timber
I've watched the coal cars steal our rock
And now that we've got
Nothing left to take we're told
That the wheels will stop turning,
The whistles will stop blowing,
These foolish dreams must stopLast year they closed down the post office,
Took the only flag we had in town
That old brick building
Still stands like a cenotaph
To a vision lost and buried in
A very distant pastAnd I've watched the flat cars
Take away our timber
I've watched the coal cars steal our rock
And now that we've got
Nothing left to take we're told
That the wheels will stop turning,
The whistles will stop blowing,
These foolish dreams must stopThe longest train I've ever seen
Was the train that you were on
I walked you to the station,
We kissed and you were gone
I dream at night about you coming home
The train in the station,
Your uniform on fire
As you step onto the platform
The band plays a little louder,
And as we embrace your cap falls off
Oh, I guess these foolish dreams must stopMornings feel so damn sad these days
Without the call of the 8:15
Looks like this town is finally
Going to die away
Leaving nothing but broken promises
Where there once was small town dreamsAnd I've watched the flat cars
Take away our timber
I've watched the coal cars steal our rock
And now that we've got
Nothing left to take we're told
That the TV station will be closing,
Main Street windows will need boarding,
That these foolish dreams must stop

. . .


Baby hit the back door
Breathin' real heavy
Said the boys in the alley
Wouldn't leave her alone
Mama did her make-up in a terrible hurry
She finally got ready
But the boys were gone
Mama don't you worry,
Night's approachin'
There's a hole in heaven
Where some sin slips through
Just close your eyes and dream real steady
Maybe just a little will spill on youDark don't lie
Dreams come true
Could be a few will see you throughOld lady Rose, lookin' down her nose
At lonely Miss Lily hiding in the hall
Lily's just praying for the trial to be over
Lady Rose just waiting for the axe to fall
Show me off on the way to town
The sky's still shiny
And the earth's still brown
Tell the judge I'm ready for the vases
Gonna dance in their faces
When the guitar soundsWon't be long
I won't be gone
Been leaning toward the shadows all alongThose in the know say so it goes
You plan on reapin', you better sow
You plan on sleepin',
You better keep movin'
Sleepin' ain't allowed around here,
You knowSnake eyes cry
Boxcars sigh
Seven's stuck in the middle
Just wonderin' whyDark don't lie
Dreams come true
All it takes is one or two
Maybe just a few will see you through

. . .


You're clean as a widow woman's washboard, son,
Stick it in the wind
Put the mountains to your back
The great plains on your grille
Time to take a little spin
Boulder looks like the type of town
That I could spend some time,
But in Houston they got our name in lights
You're clean as a widow woman's washboard, son,
The slab is yours tonightTownes is in the back lounge
With his hands in his pocket
Pulls out two dice and says, 'Let's get at it'Salina in the headlights, snake eyes on the floor,
Al drops another twenty, Pete heads for the door,
Springer's feeling lucky, sits down for a spell,
Oklahoma City and he's lost his last bill
Jeff is in a bind waiting on sister hicks
Seven comes a-calling
As we cross on into TexasTownes is in the back lounge
With a fist full of fives
He says, 'It's a little bit long
But I'm enjoying this ride'Be careful with the dice
When you're surrounded by others
With boxcars in their eyes
Never count your winnings at hour 23
Of a 24-hour drive
Remember that you're not the one
Calling the tune
That's making those diamonds dance
Or you'll be clean as
A widow woman's washboard, son,
And those are the factsTownes is in the back lounge cursing at them bones
He says, 'Ain't this fool ever heard of Raton'

. . .


Won't say I love you babe
Won't say I need you babe
But I'm going to get you babe
And I will not do you wrong
Living's mostly wasting time
And I waste my share of mine
But it never feels too good
So let's not take too long
You're as soft as glass and I'm a gentle man
We got the sky to talk about
And the world to lie uponDays up and down they come
Like rain on a conga drum
Forget most, remember some
But don't turn none away
Everything is not enough
Nothing is too much to bear
Where you been is good and gone
All you keep's the getting there
To live is to fly low and high
So shake the dust off of your wings
And the sleep out of your eyesIt's goodbye to all my friends
It's time to go again
Think of all the poetry
And the pickin' down the line
I'll miss the system here
The bottom's low and the treble's clear
But it don't pay to think too much
On the things you leave behind
I may be gone but I won't be long
I'll be bringing back the melody
And the rhythm that I findWe all got holes to fill
And them holes are all that's real
Some fall on you like a storm
Sometimes you dig your own
But choice is yours to make
Time is yours to take
Some dive into the sea
Some toil upon the stone
To live is to fly low and high
So shake the dust off of your wings
The sleep out of your eyes

. . .


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