1. |
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Twas One sunny afternoon, we were walking the fields
There was a thing that lay on the path, As though was written by John
Every eye had pierced its side, the blood soaked through the leaves
‘Soaked the leaves til they went brown, and back down ‘to the ground
We checked for a pulse
laid some flowers by her grave
I saw she wore dress so torn, one that once had been white
I recognised by the bow in her hair, that she was from town
She drank with Caleb Meyer one day, or so they do say
She took that bottle in her hand and he never drank again
He took what he had wanted
Everyone does sin
When we walked to her house, knocked on her husband’s door
He came with shaking hands and twitches in his eye
We told him what he already knew, and he looked at the floor
He sat right down at the table, and finished his pie
He said “what’s done is done…
“I may die a sinner but now I die a man.”
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2. |
Cobbler's Gone
03:03
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Chorus
Went to the cobbler, the cobbler was gone
No-one knows where the cobbler’s gone
Said “he loved a woman, but the woman scorned”
So now the cobbler’s gone
He learned his trade from his daddy, before his daddy died
Made the best working boots on the river’s east side
Best friends with the madam, drank til they closed the tavern
The kind of man who was always pierced with a knife
Chorus
Her eyes were pure, her lips were thin, some say she kept too little within
She bet on every horse, to make sure that she would win
When she drank, she drank her weight and danced around your eyes
And if you had fortune she’d dance around your lies
Chorus
She loved him for a time, it’s true, serving in his shop, living as his wife
But soon strong hands and the smell of boot leather just wasn’t enough
She needed a man who would love her truthfully, but buy her jewellery
Johnny Cole on the train, he came, fancy hat, fancy suit, fancy cane
They say he owned a department store, soon he’d own so much more
He offered some land and a steady hand, and a love she could understand
And so now the cobbler’s gone
Chorus
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3. |
My Neighbour's Gift
03:32
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Yesterday or it may have been the day before
My lady neighbour knocked on my front door
I put the kettle on to boil and invited her to sit
“Oh,” she said and fumbled in her pockets, “I have a gift.”
It was a machete, brand new and gleaming in the morning light
“A blunt blade can’t fight your backyard vines.”
I thanked her and put the teabags into hers and mine
“Sorry,” she said “about the word you heard last night.”
“It’s not my business,” I said, she said “That’s where you’re wrong.”
She touched the bruise upon her cheek and sang a Dylan song.
She pulled the scarf from around her neck revealing fingerprints on her throat.
She said “if you go next door and look on the floor, you’ll find him laid out cold.”
The clock that ticked, the tap that dripped, my father said my mother slipped
The chestnut mare, a face so fair, a slight limp from velvet hips
I took the machete with my right, I pulled a sausage from the wall with my left
And I chopped it right in half with just one heft
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4. |
Little Old Me
03:41
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5. |
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6. |
West End Killer
04:26
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The Wicked Messenger Brisbane, Australia
Sad modern folk music from relatively happy people.
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