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Bruce Piephoff Live at the dotmatrix project

by Bruce Piephoff

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The splendor of the sun lights a lonely path As a stranger walks once more as a child Nothing he calls his own save his suffering But the demons round his bed have all died (Chorus) O mother of the cosmos please protect him O wind and moon and waters clear the way For a calm upon the seas shall come For a calm upon the seas shall come Rufus Kane had quite his job for wandering A voice inside his skull that never lied Intransigent amid the sound and fury And the awful forms that tried to steal inside Chorus The spectre and his stallions close behind him The madness of the world is all around But he knows blue nights and tranquil lighted waters And pearls strung on silken silver threads Chorus Well eyes of old they can turn so kind and gentle But people move like shadows through the night And the drama of our loneliness continues With the empty hearts and souls without sight Chorus
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Rosalita, when that cold wind blows That's when I always dream of you Rosalita, when that train comes through I'll be on my way home to you (Chorus) And I'll be tying on my highway shoes I'll be flying on home to you So don't be blue Rosalita, do you remember me girl Walking along Tobacco Road Going fishing in that Carolina moon Lord, mama she cooked us up a meal CHORUS Rosalita, my little baby girl Tell mama that daddy's coming home Rosalita, my little baby girl I ain't never more going to roam CHORUS
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Like the wings that the wind brings Like the brightness after rain Like the thunder rolling over you While you're riding on a train (Chorus) You been out there fighting lions Where the lions ain't been Time to come on back in, my friend From the rain and the wind And the streets are filled with cell phones Dark suits and shades Three days till the millenium And the amateur parade Chorus You know alcohol and wrestling They never do mix And the priests and politicians Are playing pick up sticks Chorus There's a fire out on the interstate It's burning through the night There's laughter in your poetry Turning darkness into light Chorus Woke up with a Woody Guthrie song in my head And the wind from Newport News At the window by my bed I been out there fighting lions Where the lions ain't been Time to come on back in my friend From the rain and the wind
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We pick the oranges in early Florida spring In April head north riding the east coast stream Up to North Carolina, down east on the plains Cropping tobacco and singing of the pain The pain of the lonely so far from Mexico Lonely cause no one speaks the language we know We work for the coastal farmer and he hides us away Cause with illegal status they won't let you stay (Chorus) Sing me a lullabye sweet on the strings Sitting on the front porch in the tenant house swing Play me a melody, a soft spanish breeze While I ride on the rows on the east coast stream Well my brother plays accordion, I play guitar and sing About the dreams migrants dream on the east coast stream Riding the stream all the way up to Maine To pick apples before winter and then head south again We dream of a better life for our kids We dream of the fields and all the work we did Dream of success, the American dream But meanwhile we're treading water on the east coast stream Chorus
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Bradley fire a burning on a bloody spring day Mama, there's shrapnel in my leg A distant line of palm trees is calling me home But it's 20 miles to Baghdad today Burning vehicles exploding, black smoke hangs in the air The Euphrates rolls lazily along Lying in this marsh grass, trying to stay strong But it's 20 miles to Baghdad today Now the B-52s are leading in the sky Rockets blaze like 4th of July A flock of white doves and a dog passing by But it's 20 miles to Baghdad today Got your picture in my pocket, St. Christopher's with me And I dream of you all when the darkness falls When we break camp tomorrow the angels may call 20 Miles to Baghdad today
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Big Tom Alston swung a baseball bat Broke in with the Cardinals First black man to do that 1954, a big foot in the door Augustus Busch, the beer tycoon Made a big production, beer and silver spoons Just one black man was standing in the room (Chorus) I'll give you 2 Stan Musials, one Steve Bilko Throw in Country Slaughter, if you'll let Alston go Big Tom Alston, Cardinals '54 I seen him yesterday down at the Woolworth's Store Big Tom Alston went to Dudley High Played ball for the Aggies, learned to catch high flies But big Tom was a slugger, kissed Greensboro goodbye San Diego Padres, 23 home runs And RBIs, big Tom got 101 Headed for St. Louis and segregation Chorus Eating meals alone, big Tom Alston In a third class coach, the whole season long Just like Willie Mays and Jackie Robinson Voices in the wind, down in Mexico Our big forgotten friend Back in Greensboro Eating apple pie at the Woolworth's Store Chorus
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I wanna be a tree A big white oak tree With big strong limbs You could climb on me Bright leaves in the Fall I'd stand tall With deep roots to keep me from the howling wind A tree is a friend I wanna be a tree I'm tired of being me I wanna be a guitar An ole Martin guitar With new steel strings I could sing to the stars I'd play real good With my rosewood A sweet melody for your heart to win A guitar is a friend I wanna be a guitar I'm tired of being me I wanna be a car A '57 Chevrolet A few scratches and scars Could be buffed away You could rev me up When you turn my key Lord, my wheels would spin from here to eternity An ole car is a friend I wanna be a car I'm tired of being me I wanna be a beer Golden and light Cold and delicious On a hot summer's night You could sip on me Or you could drink me down Or you could kick my can when it's empty all over town A cold beer is a friend I wanna be a beer I'm tired of being me I wanna be free
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Well, I dreamed I dropped out in '71 From careers I'd just begun To go for success and look out for number one I hopped a freight train with a railroad bum He said he'd ridden the Dog, he'd ridden the Steam Through the hobo jungles on the American dream He'd run for President as king of the 'bos They called him Nobody, Nobody knows (CHORUS) Nobody knows, Nobody heeds us How we get our smokes, beers or who feeds us Nobody knows, Nobody knows He said that being is important, you know But being important ain't important at all There's Salmon fishing on the Feather River And tarpaper shacks and stories to deliver There's mulligan stew and a bedroll on your back Matches for a fire by the railroad tracks Clappin' and stompin' and raisin' the dust Coffee and smokes and faces you can trust CHORUS But the times are changing, there'll be no more riding We're the last of the breed, in you I'm confiding Watch out for the booze when you're crossing the Hump Keep something warm inside you and learn how to jump Respect the desert, don't be careless with the dicks The open road can be a life but you must learn a few tricks Remember Meally Shorty and Kansas City Dick And Steam Train Maury and all the bos up in Britt CHORUS So remember the Hardrock and the Freedom Train Lord Open Road and Blackie and Virginia Slim the same Remember ole Frypan and remember Mountain Dew And Sparky and Rattlesnake and Nobody too Then the cool night air and the whiskey voice And the winter sleet hair and the freedom of choice Disappeared like the smoke from a cheap cigar As I awoke from my dream in the alley by the bar This is about a real hobo named Nobody who ran for President on the hobo ticket.
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The old crow was scratching and screaming Around 3 am Like a bandanaed boxer He was wailing a hymn We was pumpin aluminum We was feelin no pain I was pinchin myself in hometown rain The sun hung like a red balloon out on ole 85 Through the hailstones I hurried to the cafe feelin alive It was warm, loose and high, I was surrounded by friends I knew damn well we would meet once again There was music from the Rootboy and the Sentinel Boys too And some jazzgrass and some jazz and some plankton and some brew And a lady dressed in white, wearing a shell With a rose in her hat and some stories to tell So we walked on the street by the Belstone crowd And swam like fish when things got too proud Wild memories returned over coffee and shrimp Till time came to leave with more memories to scrimp Now the lady's in France, I'm back at work There's another one I love when shadows don't lurk And a ways down the road, couple of hours away There's an old crow calling, come on now and play
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Her habit was strong The habit of freedom and change Living with wings, flying high Above the land of stone She was more fire than light A trapeze artist piquant A tigress in the night A dancer, a trap of delight She could act out any role Charm the hobo or the prince She could heighten and sustain Her value with resistance Her skin sea shell white Her eyes of violet Her dresses of red velvet Enslaved the poets She was prodded by sailors With slow ritual and incense With opium and cocaine They offered chains at her expense But her habit was too strong The habit of freedom and change Living with wings, flying high Above the land of stone
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Young men proud to wear suicide bombs Blowing up buildings, children and moms Politicians want billions more To fight their next dirty little war Big corporations sucking the blood Of the masses for the privileged good Reality shows, American idols Cattle calls to win the titles (Chorus) What's this world coming to? I remember Asheville, skies so blue You could see about a hundred miles How's my child to wear a smile? And everybody's taking some kind of drugs Over the counter, prescriptions or thugs Bring it to your neighborhood This will make you feel so good Athletes hooked on steroid juice Hit so hard, loose as a goose Crackheads crying in the street Others so much more discreet Chorus Where's the one to lead us now To the Promised Land, past the sacred cows Martin Luther, JFK turning over in their graves Abraham, he's dead and gone Only new gods to carry on New gods of greed, higher education Massive wealth and exploitation Chorus The Prince is king, he rules the world Over all the little boys and girls Supersized, a junk food nation Send them all to some space station Scripts for every ache and pain Pounding on your weary brain Get out your notebook, write a poem Sing a song, create a storm Chorus Living a dirge, time to rock n roll Achilles brain got a hold of your soul Fools Folly Bridge crossing over to Hell Time to dip down deep into the cool clear well The well of longing, the well of hope The well of the 8 count, coming off the ropes Fill up your car with good gasoline Still you're behind the wheel If you know what I mean Chorus Ride out across the U.S.A. In your daddy's ole Chevrolet Put on some jeans and a pair of boots Try to get back to your roots Listen to Bird, Coltrane and Dylan Pretty soon you'll be chillin' Find a way to some cleaner air Cleaner water, where the people care Lovingkindness that don't stare Somewhere with some atmosphere Ride out across the U.S.A. In your daddy's ole Chevrolet Chorus

about

On February 26th, 2009 Bruce Piephoff and a local All Star cast of performers (Renee Mendoza Haran of Filthybird, Landon & Scott Walker of The Walker Brothers, David "Driveway" Moore of ETI and The Goodbye House and Jennie Walker Brunner) performed for a packed house in the back bar of The Green Burro. DMP was honored to capture their performance

credits

released August 26, 2009

Bruce Piephoff: vocals, acoustic guitar, harmonica
Renee Mendoza Haran: vocals
David "Driveway" Moore - harmonica
Scott Walker: cello
Jennie Brunner: fiddle
Landon Walker: bass, accordion

All songs written by Bruce Piephoff, Piephoff Music

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Bruce Piephoff Greensboro, North Carolina

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