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Baby What's Wrong

There's a girl on the border of the Canadian line

Tells folks the truth half of the time

She ain't really lonely but she ain't got no friends

The fella's pass through when they got money to spend

She ain't really broken just had a string of bad luck

She knows it'll pass soon and she'll be on the up and up.

Baby what's wrong, why are you crying?

Come to me darling and I'll help you feel fine

I know a couple on the highway where the big trucks roll by

Ain't had no work for weeks at a time

Can't go to the doctor unless the pain is real bad

But they never go hungry and they never feel sad

They hold each other tight when the nights get cold

Their proud that their kids are out on their own.

Baby what's wrong, why are you crying?

Come to me darling and I'll help you feel fine

I know a fella from Mexico ain't seen his kids in years

Sends home all his money then he wipes away the tears

He works in the kitchen and sleeps in the back room

Prays to the Lord that he'll be home soon

Was the only smiling when Immigration stopped the bus

They say they'll deport him, he can't believe his luck.

Baby what's wrong, why are you crying?

Come to me darling and I'll help you feel fine.

When I Was a Boy

When I was a boy I walked home from school, ate apples fresh from the trees,

Then we'd play outside building forts with sticks, until it was too dark to see.

Then Dad would be home, we'd sit down for a meal, read a story and turn in for the night,

In our dreams we were free as little boys can be, and wake up feeling alright.


And it was all in a dream,

Yesterday's memories become the means to

Remember who we were.

And it was all in a daze,

Hold them close so they don't fade and you'll

Find out who you are.

As we started to grow and branch out of ourselves, we began to feel drawn away,

The world was big, our town felt so small, it was getting hard to stay.

Our folks understood, for they'd done the same, and never tried to keep us tied.

Wherever we went, we knew we'd never forget, where we really were deep inside.


Times done change, something we can't deny, it ain't the world that we used to know.

There's a shooting at the schoolhouse, twenty kids dead, and now my own are scared to go.

Is this what we wanted, what we struggled for, the politicians don't seem to mind.

If there are tears in my eyes it should be no surprise, I'm looking for somewhere to hide.


Days gone by, we have grown, we've got children of our own.

We remember the time when we were kids, and all were called back inside,

To momma's cooking, there's a pie on the porch, and wood to split for the fire.

We gather together, break bread together, and hold each other tight.


Dust Comes from Dust


Dust comes from dust, in this old town,

Our memories have faded, underneath the ground,

Things that we got, the Devil cannot take away

The hardware store's struggling, can't make it's pay,

Folks will drive to Home Depot, 30 miles away,

Gallo's is closed now, the Western Auto's closed too.

The police don't want her, but she still comes around,

Her sweat smells like whisky, of that she ain't proud,

Folks don't know her name, even if they used to.


The breeze blows through, the summer afternoon

The lake has turned over, the algae's in bloom

The fishermen are still happy, even if they can't catch a thing.

Papa Joe's is closed, but Jack's is still here,

You can buy yourself a meal and a bottle of beer,

There's a band playing, you can hear them all across the bay.


When the apple blossoms open, here comes the parade,

The Shriners are marching, and the firemen wave,

How come some things change, and some things they never do.


Pictures of Heaven


Listening to Aaron Parrett, trying to get a wink of sleep at night,

Painting up pictures of heaven, eyes close at the dawn's first light,

I ain't trying to change the world, ain't gonna let it change me,

Greg Brown and Steve Earle, Bruce Cockburn's Night Train melody.

Listening to Aaron Parett, trying to tell a tail or two,

Song was scratched in five places, never managed to hear it through,

Sitting on the couch in the winter, stack of CDs taller than you,

Never worried about the ones broken, as long as the new ones always played true.


Can't remember what we talked about, probably things that bothered us most,

You came from Georgia, I'm from upstate Nowhere, it was the music that kept us close,

My cousin died and you didn't say nothing, I didn't want to hear no words,

Just play me Lucinda Williams, gotta hear just another verse.


I ain't trying to hear those songs that other folks play,

I would rather make my own mark on this life,

All those things that other people talk about us,

Their getting it all wrong, because it's all about


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