1. |
Looking Straight Ahead
03:28
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Looking Straight Ahead
Words & Music by Steve Witt © 2015
C Am
Looking from behind my eyes
Dm G
Barring a reflection
C Am
I am firmly in my prime
Dm G
With help of mis-direction
F G
I can see my friends have aged
C F
Some of them look wise
Dm G
And some of them have taken shapes
Cmaj7 Fmaj7
I can not recognize
Dm G
But me I’m looking straight ahead
C Am
Sometimes side to side
Em G Am
But never in the looking glass
Dm F G
There’s nowhere there to hide
C Am
Looking from behind my eyes
Dm G
Beyond these arms of steel
C Am
Beyond this torso tough and tanned
Dm G
And slender as an eel
F G
The one thing I can never do
C F
And keep this vision sound
Dm G
This beauty would disintegrate
Cmaj7 Fmaj7
If I were to look down
Dm G
You can be my travel chum
C Am
So many things we’ll do
Em G Am
But you must never look at me
Dm F G
I’ll never look at you
C Am
We’ll travel all our youthful days
Dm G
To places near and far
C Am
And all of those who gaze on us
Dm G
Will wonder who we are
F G
And if someday we’re fooled into
C F
Looking in a mirror
Dm G
We will never be aware
Cmaj7 Fmaj7
That you and I appear
Dm G
We’ll wonder who those old folks are
C Am
Such sorry looking fray
Em G Am
We’ll shrug our mighty shoulders
Dm F G
And go upon our way
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2. |
Strange Math
03:18
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Strange Math
Words & Music written by Steve Witt © 2015
Eleven plus six is five
Kicking this thing into hyperdrive
Down the road 400 miles
Meet’n my baby at 12th and Jive
She said she’d be waiting at five o’one
She said she’d be waiting at five o’one
Eleven plus seven is six
If I get there then it’s pick-up-sticks
She’s giving me this one last chance
To elevate this clumsy dance
I see you there with your thumb out son
But I can’t slow down for anyone
instrumental
Five-o’two the train pulls in
Five-o’nine her life begins
Eleven plus four is three
Highway thoughts are doggin' me
I’m falling through the water deep
Legs and arms are fast asleep
She said she’d be waiting at five o’one
She said she’d be waiting at five o’one
instrumental
Five-o’two the train pulls in
Five-o’nine her life begins
Eleven plus six is five
At the line right on the dime
To a happy but tentative smile
Gotta be good for many a mile
At five-o’two the train arrives
Trust and love are mortified
I wish I could tell you this story’s end
It’s somewhere down around the bend
One thing I can say, we’ve lived
Happily after for several days
Five-o’two the train pulls in
Five-o’two the train pulls in
Five-o’two the train pulls in
She keeps a ticket open end
Five-o’two the train pulls in
And every twenty four again
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3. |
South Wind
03:18
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4. |
Runaway Train
03:44
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5. |
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6. |
Drunk Enough
04:25
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"Drunk Enough"
Words and Music by Steve Witt ©2014
Yeah I think I’m drunk enough now, I can go to bed
I think I’m drunk enough now, I can go to bed
This is what can happen when you creep into my head
Don’t recall your looks, but I remember what you said
And I think I’m drunk enough now, I can go to bed
Like a coyote in the moonlight, in a vacant lot
Outside an apartment, where the lights are soft
Drained a bottle, and filled my head
With images of you, in someone else’s bed
Coyote in the moon, in this empty lot
The milky way was pulsing, stars were bolting here and there
Staggered to the doorway, struggled to the stairs
The moon was in the hallway, the ghost was in his chair
interlude
Next day you’re comin' ‘round like . . . everything’s just fine
How could you even begin with . . . everything’s just fine
You said you wanted to but couldn’t, you tried to do it, but
Something was obstructing, and blocked the barn door shut
And so you truly believed, that everything was fine . . . you said . . .
It’s not until the circus clown jumps through the ring of fire
And goes down apple bobbing on the boys in the choir
’Til then it’s batting practice, no conscience is required
interlude
I still cannot believe, that’s what you said
I still cannot believe it, but that’s what you said
Thirty some years later and that thought, to me
Comes from somewhere else way on down the galaxy
No, I still cannot believe, that’s what you said
And I think I’m drunk enough now, I can go to bed
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7. |
God's Trigger Finger
04:23
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God's Trigger Finger
Written, recorded & performed by Steve Witt ©2011
God created good
Good created bad
They’re both part of the same
With separate hearts, and different names
One heart’s on the right
One is on the left
One embodies warmth and light
The other one is cleft
Somewhere in between
Is where he’s usually seen
Up there where the ravens glide
Down where the vultures feed
God created wolves
God created man
God created sheep
And we all lay claim to the lambs
God rethinks his plan
Buries arrows in the sand
Is man worth this much work?
Has my sidekick gone berserk?
Is bad just a bad dream?
Are peace and harmony obscene?
Work and dirt and sweat?
Or do you steal what you can get?
What makes good so good?
When is bad so bad?
It all comes down to lines we draw
In the swirling sand
You draw your line here
She draws her line there
But when the winds spin the sand
The lines disappear
God is in a mood
The devil hums a tune
Predator and prey
Wonder what will come today
Where does God reside?
Is the devil by his side?
They’re both up on the bluff
Just wait until they’ve had enough
Snakes are in the rocks
Scorpions in socks
Mosquitos in your face
He put them all into this place
Vultures overhead
Spy the soon to be dead
The devil gives a nod
And so does God
His finger feels the itch
As greed gallops down the road
Followed by the hangers on
Promised pay in gold
God’s up on the slope
Sighting down through his scope
His finger pulls to squeeze
His verdict through the breeze
Some possess the art
To never miss the heart
A bullet in the chest
Call it death or call it blessed
The devil’s line is here
God’s is over there
But when the winds spin the sand
The lines disappear
The devil’s line is over here
God’s is over there . . . . . . . .
But when the wind blows trouble in
The lines . . . . . . . . disappear
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8. |
You Were On My Mind
03:25
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9. |
Ballad Of Dan Moody
05:26
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10. |
I'm On Fire
02:49
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11. |
Isn't That So
04:06
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Steve Witt Fort Collins, Colorado
Some folks I know think that folk music is to be played softly. And therefore is lame. Well, maybe some is. But I want mine played LOUD!
CRANK IT UP!!!
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