HOLD UP
Open up the gates and let ‘em in,
here on earth we’re all suffering.
I can relate. He was my friend,
now he begins to transcend.
Angels watching over us,
I will open up and I will trust.
You don’t have to hold your head up. You can break down and cry.
We will lift you up, you don’t have to stop and wonder why.
Know that you’re not alone,
everbody’s searching trying to find a home.
And they can build that wall.
Build it mean and tall.
It won’t matter at all.
Without love it will fall.
When the angels come for me,
I will open up, my soul will be free.
You don’t have to hold your head up. You can break down and cry.
We will lift you up, you don’t have to stop and wonder why.
Know that your not alone,
everybody’s searching trying to find a home.
MAMA’S BROKE
Connecticut hotel nearly vacant.
Stranger needs a ride up state
She’s a Halifax mystic with just a bag and a fiddle,
her karma and our fate.
“Have you seen The Town Crier?”
“Ok, let’s gig that open mic.”
Somehow we passed over the Beacon Bridge
with the Volvo humming into the autumn night.
Welcome to Pennsylvania,
two modern folkies making a scene.
While I was pumping gas the man said what?
We missed Middletown and route seventeen.
The northern lights shine in Canada,
They shine much brighter than in America.
We stopped off at The Roscoe Diner,
like any good musician does.
I got the eggs, she ordered a salad.
Over easy just because.
We drank pots and pots of coffee.
“They’re free refills, so can we have more please?”
It became apparent we were wide awake tweaking
with a nervous shack upon our knees.
Back on the road, “Hey wait a minute.
Does being here feel right?
How’d we not see the Hudson River?
With two pares of eyes we should have had foresight.”
The northern lights shine in Canada,
Shine much brighter than in America.
Are conversation kept rolling by,
Like a leave on a river we flow.
We never had a silent moment.
We never even turned on the radio.
There’s a carpenter she longs to be with.
He’s up Mount Shasta with a faithful crew.
I told her about my broken relationships,
All entanglements of blue.
Now nothing last long for a minstrel,
no love or note can ever sustain.
Now why would we try the straight life,
when we can only relate with pain?
The northern lights shine in Canada,
They shine much brighter than in America.
Somewhere there lies a fiddle on the side of a road. (X3)
I hope that the tour treats you well. (x2)
You never can tell.
She told me about a tour that went all wrong,
when she was riding in a beat up truck.
Everything in her life back then,
was erroneous gone amuck.
She spend days combing the roadside,
when bad luck was all she had.
“Where did that fiddle go?” She cried out,
“How did it fall out of the back of the cab?”
“My dear grandmother now when she passed,
left me that violin.” She said,
“There’s a tragic story for every one of us,
when we look back to where we’ve been.”
She ain’t broken, she ain’t broken, she ain’t broken at all. She’s broke, she’s ain’t broken, she ain’t broken at all.
Somewhere there lies a fiddle on the side of the road. (x2) She’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone to Saskatchewan.
She’s gone, yeah she’s gone to Saskatchewan. Alright.