1. |
Holy Roller
03:37
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Holy Roller, Roll on by…
Pull it on over, let me pass on by
Sell salvation all across the nation
to another lonely guy
Holy Roller, roll on by…
Don’t wait till later, Send the savior now
Call up the neighbors grill ‘em up some holy cow
Pickle up some gator, pot pie and potaters
Halleluiah’s keeping it down.
Don’t wait till later, send the savior now.
All them boys in the gospel band
Airbrushed Mary on purple van
rims as wide as their legs is long
Heaven help you if you done them wrong - Look out!
Wheels on Jesus heading out
Peel out, heal us, right now!
Holy Roller, Roll on by.
Pull it on over, Let me pass on by
sell salvation all across the nation,
Debt’ll get'em every time
Holy Roller, roll on by….
Holy Roller, roll on by….
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2. |
Everybody's Got a Banjo
03:14
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There’s an old new fad to be had
From the long-gone days of your grandpa’s dad
String a drum and strum on your gut
It’ll dig you up from a dirty rut
Throw down, tune it up!
Find a friend with wine and a whiskey cup
Break it out! Bring it back!
Strut around your town with a gunny sack…
Everybody’s got a banjo!
If you mean it when you sling it then you ain’t no fool
Everybody’s got a banjo!
If you don’t know how to play it well it still looks…
You can freak out for an antique
wait a hundred years for to reach its peak
Given time you’ll be kickin’ up dust
but a mean clawhammer, It’ll never rust
Hold 'em up! Hang 'er on!
Bring a folked-up fiddle in you can’t go wrong
Line ‘em up, Roll em out!
Well you herd them comin' now you better shout loud…
Everybody’s got a banjo!
If you mean it when you sling it then you ain’t no fool
Everybody’s got a banjo!
If you don’t know how to play it well it still looks cool
From Bozeman to Brooklyn,
Melbourne to Maine
Everybilly this side if Dixie
diggin up the bluegrass grain
In the Smokies, on the subway,
on the runway and the plains
Anybilly gunnin’ for that old-time fame
Everybody’s got a banjo!
If you mean it when you sling it then you ain’t no fool
If you can’t afford one make it like a canjo
If you don’t know how to play it well it still looks cool.
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3. |
Pay For That Money
03:22
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Sacked, sunk, never would’ve thunk you’d
borrow a baby just to watch you get drunk
Dogged, damned, butter up the pan,
cook a little creature, feedin mouth to hand
What do you get when you burn through your plastic stacks
A mouth full a money while your honey ends up hangin the cash
Broke, bust, never should a trust
that long-eyed lawyer with a lean on lust
Fooled, failed, suckered by the sale
wood for the coffin comes along with nails
What do you get when you turn to the man in slacks
Boozed and battered, gettin' fatter and they’re turning their backs
You gotta pay for that money, boy
You gotta pay for that money, boy
Jacked, gypped, tighten up the grip
you hold on the handle of a homemade whip
Flushed, Fried, Hog-tied and tailed by
a female waiting so perfectly shy
What do you get when you
burn through your plastic stacks
Mouth full a money while
your honey ends up hangin the cash
You gotta pay for that money, boy
You gotta pay for that money, boy
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4. |
Working Class
03:33
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I got stuck in the Working Class
It’s a class I ain’t ever gonna pass
I’m gonna punch a clock ‘till my neck turns blue
Tell me what the hell else am I supposed to do
My momma was a pauper & my papa was a prick
they sent me off to college but I didn’t learn shit
I got an A in drinking, and also F’n lit
Yeah I’ll be happy to admit I wasn’t cut for it.
I grew a crop of credit cards and never saw the bill
It didn’t seem to matter, I always had my fill
When I tried to do accounting, it wouldn’t add up
So I got into a truck and that door slammed shut
Chorus
I could’ve been a doctor, I should’ve been a shrink
But I didn’t see the point to earn more dough than I could drink.
I got some big ideas, I doubt I’ll hammer out
but if you buy a round of stout, I’ll tell you all about
I’ll give up all my time, if they can let me get my hours
Slinging sawdust in a pen or pushing paper in a tower
Just keep the checks a coming,I’ll keep my self employed
and when the weekend comes, oh boy, I’ll get myself destroyed
And I’ll wake up poor
And I’ll do it again
And I’ll struggle some more
Just don’t let nobody ask me who I’m working for…
Yeah, I’d like to be a honcho, I’d like to work from home
If some one out there wants to pay me to drink bourbon all alone
Instead I’ll keep my head down, do my eight and hit the gate
And if to this you can relate, you’ll prob’ly share my fate…
If you get stuck in the Working Class
It’s a class you ain’t ever gonna pass
Yer gonna punch a clock‘till your neck turns blue
Tell me what the hell else are you supposed to do.
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5. |
Rumble Strip
01:37
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6. |
Real Slow
04:25
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Somebody take the keys away from me
Don’t really care who you are
Don’t let me get back in my car
How the hell did I get to Abilene?
Two tanks of gasoline
Driving to cause a scene
Don't blame me
My heartbreak heals real slow
Somebody pick me some Listerine
But only give me one sip
Let it roll right off of my lip
Somebody keep a wary eye on me
Don't let me get to that door
Though I may reel, I may roar
Don't blame me
My heartbreak heals real slow
Unless you wanna take a ride…
We’ll put the Devil in the Driver’s Side
Somebody please some back to check on me
Don’t wanna sleep at the bar
Prefer the back seat of my car
Don't blame me
My heartbreak heals real slow
Don't mind me
My heartbreak heals real slow
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7. |
Get Yer Papers
03:54
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You can use your charms, but you’ve got a tough sell
You can keep on trying to keep the dying from going to hell
You can use your horns, they’ll hook me I know
Well they’ll poke, impale, I’ll flail, you tell me where to go
You can burn out all the stars in the sea
but you won’t ever get your papers on me
You can chain me to your family tree
but you won’t ever get your papers on me
You can wind me up, you can follow me down
You can keep your naggin’ on, tag along all over town
You can hide my smoke, you can pour out my drink
but I’ll churn and bubble and brew it in the kitchen sink
And you can throw me just as far as you see
but you won’t ever get your papers on me
You will string me up the shape of a T
but you won’t ever get your papers on me
You can scrape & bow, spend the night on the ground
You can simper n’ whimper n’ weep without making a sound
You can sell me out, all the debt that I owe
You can flip yer trigger & dig your boot into my bone
Now you can hold me down and holler at me
but you won’t ever get your papers on me
And you can shack up and get buried with me
but you won’t ever get your papers on me
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8. |
Cackalacky
03:05
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Bobby come from North Cackalacky
He left home and never comin’ back-y
Cussin’ and grinnin’ and a’ hummin’ that tone
Puffin’ out smoke from a hambone
Got to the city with a big ol’ grin
Pulled pork grease rollin’ down his chin
Tryin’ a’ make a’ money while havin’ some fun
Pickin’ like a chicken with a bb gun
Bought a bandana, got a Bushwick gig
Had the crowd goin’ with a slew foot jig
Grab them girlies with a gold-tooth grin
Ain’t no grave that he won’t dig…
He left home, to never go back
He left home, don't wanna go back
He left home, he never go back
He left home, he wanna go—back!
Found his body in a black Cadillacky
Down by the river and the Domino factory
They put him on a train in a box of pine
Sent him back down on to Caroline
Bobby come from North Cackalacky
He went home
He went home
He went home
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9. |
Hee-Haw in Heaven
02:45
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When they lay my body in the landfill underground
well I hope to hear that good ol’ fashioned sound
Where the angels play on fiddle in a cornfield, on a cloud
And the moonshine’s shining on a haybale beauty,
the band’s all gathered round
Is there Hee-Haw in Heaven
Tell me could it be so
If there’s Hee-Haw in Heaven
Then I’ve got a reason to go
You can quit your cryin' and griefn’ when I’m gone
if I greet St. Peter with a sweet hillbilly song
We’ll be pickin' n’ grinning n' eefin', Buck and Roy can sing along
When you’re leaning up against that pearly picket fence
Forever don’t seem so long
Chorus
I’ll talk with Junior Samples
about the meaning of my life,
Pick another barnyard beauty
each day for my new wife
And Minnie Pearl and Grandpa Jones
will tuck me into bed
but I’ll break out the banjo
and we’ll hoe it down instead
Is there Hee-Haw in Heaven
Tell me could it be so
If there’s Hee-Haw in Heaven
Then I’ve got a reason to go
I’ve got a reason to go
I’ve got a reason to go
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10. |
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Someone tell me which world I'm in
I've done gone dizzy from seeing sin
My will ain't willin' and my blood's run thin
At the end is a better place to begin
I know there's gotta be a better way
To hold you down to make you stay
But the air I'm losing I could use to say
Let me see that ponytail run
Right along the water by the red hook sun
wanna stay behind you but my heart weighs a ton
So let me see that ponytail run
A freaked out filly needs some open land
Not to be gunned down by an unwanted man
The way you wander makes it hard to stand
So I howl and holler with my head in hand
I know there's gotta be a better way
To rope you down to Rockaway
With the air I'm losing I can only bray
Let me see that ponytail run
Right along the water by the red hook sun
Wanna stay behind you but my heart weighs a ton
So let me see that ponytail run
Let me see that ponytail run
Hide is getting hotter while I bite my tongue
probably would have shot her if my heart had a gun
So let me see that ponytail run….
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The Defibulators Brooklyn, New York
“The Defibs are Brooklyn’s kings of alt-country—just minus the “alt.” This is true, fiddle-driven Americana here.” -VICE
(Best Unknown Brooklyn Bands)
“Roots-heavy, post-punk music that reinvents the conventions of country music with a CBGB’s-meets-Grand Ole Opry feel.” -Crawdaddy
“Carter Family-meets-Ramones” -All Music Guide
... more
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