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Jason Isbell
Jason Isbell


Информация
Дата рождения 1 февраля 1979 г.
Откуда Greenhill, Alabama, United States
Жанры Rock
Alternative Country
Годы 2001—н.в.
Лейблы New West Records
Lightning Rod Records
См. также Drive-By Truckers
Сайт Website



Альбом Jason Isbell


Sirens Of The Ditch (10.07.2007)
10.07.2007
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Good News
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
. . .


you said you heard of me, so why are you so afraid?

some minor changes made, you missed the big parade
another filthy day, another Hollywood sign
you missed the caution line, and you just walked right in.
YOU WALKED RIGHT IN
there's somebody here, somebody you once knew
you took a liking to, your conversation cues
the way you cut your hair, the time you did it yourself
you're like a hired help, the way you fit right in
THE WAY YOU FIT RIGHT IN
(chorus)----
'CAUSE YOU'RE A BRAND NEW KIND OF ACTRESS
YOU'RE A BRAND NEW KIND OF ACTRESS
YOU'RE THE SAME OLD STUBBORN WAITRESS, BABY
YOU'RE A BRAND NEW KIND OF ACTRESS
you swim the the other way, you put your seat upstream
so many hopes and dreams, so many in betweens
your new reality, just make yourself at home
he's always watchin' me, he' never been alone
SO YOU JUST WALKED RIGHT IN
(chorus)----
-guitar solo-
you met that greasy guy, I don't care what you did
in 1965, before the wife and kid
I'll leave my jacket on, so sorry I can't stay
just put the piece away.
just put the piece away, let me call a cab
we'll go our separate ways, we'll go our separate ways
just put the piece away, I don't care what you did
back in younger days, just put the piece away
PUT IT AWAY
(chorus)----
'CAUSE I'M A BRAND NEW KIND OF ACTRESS
I'M A BRAND NEW KIND OF ACTRESS
I'M THE SAME OLD STUBBORN WAITRESS, BABY
I'M A BRAND NEW KIND OF ACTRESS

. . .


Standing in the window with his tongue hanging out,
like the king of something evil in a yearlong drought.
With a dirty white suit, a big white hat,
a bullet in his pocket no matter where he's at.
He's trouble, but ain't we all. Trouble, but ain't we all.

His daughter was a looker but five'll get you ten.
He dressed her like a hooker and she smelled like sin.
She had a ragtop car. She made good grades.
She didn't like her daddy 'cause he wouldn't let her date.
She was trouble, but ain't we all. Trouble, but ain't we all.

Don't work for him boy. It's like selling your soul.
He'll walk away and he'll leave you way down in a hole.
His daddy wasn't a good man. He owned most of the town.
He bought up all the farmland and tore up all the ground.

He covered up the county in stone and creosote.
Came to football games in a new fur coat.
Had a real big wife and a real big grin.
He gave thanks to Jesus for the shape that he was in.
He was trouble, but ain't we all? Trouble, but ain't we all.

Big sign on the roadside telling me how to live.
A couple things that he done, real hard to forgive.
So don't work for him boy. It's like selling your soul.
He'll walk away and he'll leave you way down in a hole.

. . .


You can't make a woman sleep alone
You can't make a woman sleep alone
You can't give her lovin' on the phone
You can't make her stay her ass at home

But you try, don't you?
You try, don't you?
Just want to die, don't you
When she runs?

You can't tell her nothing she don't know
You can't tell her nothing she don't know
She'll chop down every living thing you grow
But you can't take her with you when you go

But you try, don't you?
You try, don't you?
Just want to die, don't you,
When she runs?

Take a year and go back home
Where the wind comes sweepin' Through the plains
You ain't seen her in awhile,
But she loves you just the same

You can't stop that ringin' in your ear
You can't stop that ringin' in your ear
You can't make the highway disappear
You can't make her love you out of fear

But you try, don't you?
You try, don't you?
Just want to die, don't you,
When she runs?

Take a year and go back home
Where the wind comes sweepin' Through the plains
You ain't seen her in awhile
But she loves you just the same

. . .


My door is locked, my debts are paid.
I'll do the Chicago promenade.
My back was turned I did not see
that shadow climbing up on me.
I took my turn at fixing hearts
but that goes bad before it starts.
I'm desperate now, I must say.
I'll do the Chicago promenade.
If I die now before I'm old
my story will be less than told.
There's so much more to suffer through
before I meet again with you.

I've tried so hard and I've been so blind. I thought we could all grieve one at a time.

I lost a friend. It felt like five,
a man who wouldn't compromise.
I'll think of him on New Year's Day
and do the Chicago promenade.

. . .

Good News

[Нет текста]

. . .


What can you see from your window?
I can't see anything from mine.
Flags on the side of the highway
and scripture on grocery store signs.
Maybe eighteen was too early.
Maybe thirty or forty is too.
Did you get your chance to make peace with the man
before he sent down his angels for you?

Mamas and grandmamas love you
'cause that's all they know how to do.
You never planned on the bombs in the sand
or sleeping in your dress blues.

Your wife said this all would be funny
when you came back home in a week.
You'd turn twenty-two and we'd celebrate you
in a bar or a tent by the creek.
Your baby would just about be here.
Your very last tour would be up
but you won't be back. They're all dressing in black
drinking sweet tea in styrofoam cups.

Mamas and grandmamas love you.
American boys hate to lose.
You never planned on the bombs in the sand
or sleeping in your dress blues.

Now the high school gymnasium's ready,
full of flowers and old legionnaires.
Nobody showed up to protest,
just sniffle and stare.
But there's red, white, and blue in the rafters
and there's silent old men from the corps.
What did they say when they shipped you away
to fight somebody's Hollywood war?

Nobody here could forget you.
You showed us what we had to lose.
You never planned on the bombs in the sand
or sleeping in your dress blues.

No, no you never planned on the bombs in the sand
or sleeping in your dress blues.

. . .


Last night I heard the sirens' song and I followed it in the ditch.
Oh baby, I'm just carrying on. Far be it for me to bitch.
Last night I heard the distant hum of another damn hurricane.
Oh Sunnie tell me where you've gone. Are you still dancing to Purple Rain?

You took my little hand and took me to your room.
You taught me how to want something so I learned how to move.

Oh, oh, you made me feel so grown.
Oh, oh, you made me feel so grown.

Last year I heard your momma had a little trouble with the thin blue line.
You always knew that you could understand and not undermine.

You took me to your room. I let my eyes adjust.
You taught me how to want something and I learned how to lust.

Oh, oh, you made me feel so grown.
Oh, oh, you made me feel so grown.

All them years ago you took a nervous little kid
and showed me how the slow it down just a little bit…

(Chorus)

. . .


I got a glass of wine, I got a cigarette
I should be feeling fine
I ain't feeling nothing yet
She's leading the second line
Feel like I'm in front of it
I guess I am tonight

I got a cigarette
My glass is empty now
I got a little wine
I ain't gonna break it out
I need something to let me down
When I'm down and out
I guess I am tonight

She told me I took the best years of her life
And she was only 17
She swore I would leave her
But I didn't believe her
I called it all a bad dream

I should move on to whisky now
I've got a Lucky left
Go out and hit the town
But this town can hit itself
My baby's a day away
And I've got a show to play
In Birmingham tonight

There was a time
When she would laugh in my face
Or just sit and judge me silently
I cried on her shoulder
All the things that I told her
Guess I didn't say enough about me

Now hurricanes and hand grenades
Are the only things that get you off my mind
But I'm a day away and I've got a show To play in Birmingham tonight
I'm a day away and I've got a show
To play in Birmingham tonight

. . .


In a razor town
you take whoever you think you can keep around.
There's an echoed sound
that permeates the sidewalk where she shuffles 'round.
It's a big machine.
It used to be the avenue of changing dreams.
She's a lonely thing,
sweeping up the glitter while she pulls the strings.

Take a long last look
before she turns to stone
what the last man took
and what was long, long gone.

The way it used to be...
I wasn't there to see it working properly.
Now it seems to me
both of you are suffering.
I've heard her say
that you're the only reason she's alive today.
I just turned away
thinking maybe she was right.

So say your last goodbye.
Make it short and sweet
There ain't no way to fly
with her hanging on your feet.

Let her go out if she wants to.
If she don't, go out yourself.
Don't take sorry for an answer
unless you really want what's left.

'Cause in a razor town
the only thing that matters tends to bring you down.
There's no way around,
but maybe you can barrel through
cause a razor ain't no good for you.

. . .


Ten years out of high school, still no idea what to do.
You took him home from a nightclub. He took a nightclub to you.
Now I watch from the window, too guilty to scream.
My feet are like steel. I might be in a dream.

Every time I see you, you look bigger than you did the day before.
Even though I know it's not my fault, I wish it was.
I can only ride the elevator all night long from floor to floor
and I can only stand outside your window in the dust.

So how about a shotgun wedding? What about your dignity?
What about a different setting? What about me?
All your daddy's wishes honored, all of that security...
How about a shotgun wedding? What about me?

I guess I'm a loner. Some call me a freak.
I saw you in the hallway, too guilty to speak.
Now I sleep in the daytime and I sleep on the floor.
I dial your number and I knock on your door.

Every time I hear your voice or footsteps I get frozen in one place
and I have to struggle for the courage just to run.
I can see the eyes of all the ones that left you glowing in your face
and I just want to help you with this life that you've begun.

So how about a shotgun wedding? What about your dignity?
What about a different setting? What about me?
All your daddy's wishes honored, all of that security...
How about a shotgun wedding? What about me?
How about a shotgun wedding? What about me?

. . .


You watch every move
and call it slight of hand
you know it's what I do
but never who I am, never who I am

started on the street
cards and dollar bills
shuffling my feet
never could be still, never could be still

and I am an orphan man but ain't we all
I can make myself disappear
I am an orphan man but ain't we all
I could be somewhere worse than here

I had a bride
sawed her in half
couple people cried
but most of them just laughed, most of them just laughed

and I had a son
strong of hand and will
taught him how to run
but never how to steal, never how to steal

I am an orphan man but ain't we all
I can't make myself reappear
I am an orphan man but ain't we all
I hope there's somewhere worse than here

I was called amazing
I make folks believe
With nothing in my pockets
And nothing up my sleeve

I am an orphan man but ain't we all
I can make myself disappear
I am an orphan man but ain't we all
and I know there's somewhere worse than here
worse than here
worse than here

. . .


The devil is my running mate.
This here is his favorite state
Sorry you folks had to wait.
He always likes to show up late.

No, that ain't a rainbow son.
It's streetlamps on petroleum
Let's pull in here and get us some.
Supplies are running out now.

It ain't the reason for the war.
That's meanness boy and nothing more.
They tried to do this all before,
but Daddy wouldn't let them.

Sometimes I don't what I got into.
Sometimes I can't stand to read my name.
Sometimes I can only hear their voices
casting me back from where I came.

The devil is my running mate.
Confusion is his favorite state.
Surely you folks can relate.
I know we've gathered here to hate.

It doesn't matter who we blame
as long as you all hear a name.
All them bastards look the same.
Everyone is guilty.

Everybody look away.
Look away. Look away.
It doesn't matter what I say.
It's what I do that's shifty.

Sometimes I don't know what we got into.
Sometimes I don't think I know a thing.
Sometimes I can't even see the trees now
for the flames, for the flames.

The devil is my running mate,
and this here is his favorite state.
There ain't no other candidate.
It wouldn't matter anyway.
The devil is my running mate.
The devil is my running mate.
The devil is my running mate.

. . .


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