Lyrics

“The Holy Coming of The Storm”

Lost Lovin’ Gal
(C. Morrison)

I went to see my lost lovin’ gal,
The road was rocky but I made it some how,
She makes the April rains go shine,
I make a greased wooden wheel whine.

I cut my teeth on my own head,
and I lay where I make my bed,
I make the 18 feel like ton,
and I make the many feel like none.

I said “Go bake the bread and set the beans to boil,
set flame to the wood and turn timber to coal.”
Casting shadows on the ground,
dancing shadows all around.

On God’s Rocky Shore
(C. Morrison)
Waves are crashing all upon the shore, on God’s rocky shore.
Hornpipe’s a’blowin’, gone out through the window, gone outside my door,

I went to the doctor, and the doctor said…

Ships are in the the harbor, sheep out in the meadow, chicken in the corn,
Drop myself an anchor, right down to the bottom, on that ocean’s floor

Creek is risin’, on up to the shower, the holy coming of the storm.

My Lover, Adorned
(Lyrics C. Morrison, Music C. Morrison and E. West)

South I have fled and given my all, for my young lover’s heart I did fall,
I’m not a man, just a lowly cowhand, doing what any man would do.

Though dark grows the thunder no lighting begins, for my young lover no blessings did win,
I’m just a man with all but a plan, with all but a plan, doin’ what any man would do.

There lies my lover, adorned, beside her the horned moon

The west chills blow in and my heart it does show, clouds turn to aching and my rain into snow,
her eyes does my likeness her flesh does my hand.

If I had my way I would saddle the sky, and on up to Heaven with my lover would ride,
but I’m not a man, just a lowly cowhand, doin’ what any man would do.

Fleeting Like The Days
(C. Morrison)

She’s on a ship that sails the sea, she longs for mine, she longs for me
She’s on her way, across south of Spain, she says the water keeps her sane.

My love she often sails for she has no wings to fly,
so put some wind up in that riggin’ and hold on,
My love she often says she looks for reasons why,
but with the winds are fleeting like the days.

I like the way her hair does fall, the way it rolls, curls one and all,
She lights the way from East to West, my heart still beating in her chest.

I like the way her eyes they shine they flow like moonlight into mine.
We’ll likely meet in a western land, where I’ll hold my lover once again.

Bloody Heart
(C. Morrison)

There hangs a single, spangled star where yesterday you were, a triumph of the eastern shore, my love I’m undeterred.
Though countless lands between the time where you and I will stay, my bloody heart will fight its tide until my eyes upon you lay.

May the fog it always linger, may our bodies turn to stone,
and my voice has turned to singing, make my bloody heart our home.

When night comes soon let’s lanterns light, to you I’ll raise and toast, though fingers of the night hold firm the dawn will early boast.

Over There
(C. Morrison)

I ain’t going over there, I ain’t going over there, tell my sister tell my brother there’ll rest up yonder, I ain’t going over there.

My Lord does sing the sweetest songs, my lord does sing the sweetest songs, let his sound come wash me over so my Lord, I can get closer, my Lord does sing the sweetest songs.

I will bend but I won’t be broke, I will bend but I won’t be broken, take all my worldly possessions, but I’m keeping my intentions, I ain’t going over there.

Since You Took Your Leave
(C. Morrison)

Well the days are getting lonely, the nights are getting worse, since you took your leave from our fair home.
Home fires are burning both in my heart and stove, since you took your leave from our fair home.

Why’d you take your leave from our fair home? Why don’t you bring it back, I’m all alone.

The prayer bells keep ringing, Lord, that he may oblige, since you took your leave from our fair home.
Songbirds keep singing, Lord, wishing you back here, since you took your leave from our fair home.

Won’t Be Long
(C. Morrison)

When the fields are muddy, and it ain’t no time to plow,

Won’t be long little brother, it won’t be long.

When the rooster is crowing, and it ain’t no time to rise,
When the preacher is preaching, and it ain’t no time to pray…

I’ll Not Be A Stranger
(Trad.)

I’ll not be a stranger when I get to that city I’m acquainted with folks over there.
There’ll be friends there to meet me, there’ll be loved ones to greet me when I get to that city, foursquare.

Through the years, through the tears, they have all come and gone,
but I’ll wait at the gate until my race is run.
I’ll not be a stranger when I get to that city, I’m acquainted with folks over there.

I’ll not be a stranger when I get to that city, I have a home on the streets filled with gold,
And I’ll feel right at home there in that beautiful somewhere with the loved ones who’d memory I hold.

I’ll not be a stranger when I get to that city, there’ll be no lonely days over there, there’ll be no stormy weather, just a great time together on the streets of that city foursquare.

Holy Roller, Roll
(C. Morrison)

Oh my baby, she’s sweet,
oh my baby, she’s so fine,
oh my baby, she’s sweet,
she’s as sweet as the summertime.

Holy roller, roll on time,
you’ve got to – holy roller, roll.

Oh my baby, she’s sweet,
oh my baby, she’s so fine,
the only trouble with my baby,
is that my baby, well, she ain’t mine.

Holy roller, roll on time,
You’ve got to – holy roller, roll.

Honey Baby
(C. Morrison)

You ain’t got the time, to show me what is yours and mine,
Do you honey baby, do you?

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your face,
it’s been a long time since you’ve shown me the way,
it’s been a long time, honey, sure has been a while,
but I say, do you honey baby, do you?

You’re headed on a plane out west, it’s been a while I must confess,
do you honey baby, think of me?

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your face
it’s been a long time since you’ve shown me the way,
it’s been a long time, honey, sure has been a while,
but I say, do you honey baby, do you?

You’re headed on a train out west, it’s been a while I must confess…

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen your face,
it’s been a long time since you’ve shown me the way,
it’s been a long time, honey, sure has been a while,
but I say, do you honey baby, do you?

So It Goes, So It Be
(C. Morrison)

So it goes, so it be, once a sapling is a mighty oak tree.
The tide flows in, the tide flows out, I sip a little porter, I sip a little stout.
Love burns hot, and love it fades, only when the sun is shining can you find a spot of shade.
Go wash your linens, your nightcoat too, maybe then I’ll lay next to you.
So it goes, so it be, I’m flowing to the river, I’m flowing to the sea.

The Old Clapboard Box
(C. Morrison)

All my life I’ve been cared for by my own hazy crown,
when the first frost comes to sharpen up the blades on the ground,
all my life I’ve been cared for by my own hazy crown,
just lay in my bed and count the stars in my head.

The wind blows black and the wind blows gold.

Put the shutters down on that old clapboard box,
go and close all the doors and lock all the locks,
put the shutters down on that old clapboard box,
and hail to the queen, she’s the fattest that I’ve seen.

The wind blows black and the wind blows gold.

When that great hand comes down fromt the sky up above,
and fills our eyes with smoke and batters us with love,
when that great hand comes down fromt the sky up above,
I’ll be out the next day, smell the blossoms on my way.

The wind blows black and the wind blows gold.

A Good Hand
(C. Morrison)

I watch the progress of the sunrise melt away my night eyes, and melt the night ice off of my tent. And as the smoke pours down the river, she’s a taker and she’s a giver, she bends through lazy willows bent.

She’s a good hand if you’re gambling, she’s got a nice sillouette
she’s a good hand to be holding, but be careful she’s hard to forget.

And as the sun pours through the morning, like the honey bees that are swarming,
go to bed when it’s cold, get up when it’s still cold. I think I’ll have benedict for breakfast, I look at the money clenched in my fist, okay, alright I’ll just have beans.

She’s a good hand if you’re gambling, she’s got a nice sillouette
she’s a good hand to be holding, but be careful she’s hard to forget.

It was the first snow of the season, which should give me a reason to go find some place where it’s warm, but I think I’ll keep heading up the river, yes she’s a taker and she’s a giver, up to where the honey bees swarm.

She’s a good hand if you’re gambling, she’s got a nice sillouette
she’s a good hand to be holding, but be careful she’s hard to forget.

I watch the progress of the sunrise, melt away my night eyes and melt the night ice off of my tent, just then the Wonder Bread truck passes, and kindly passes gasses, but oh hell, it’s still mostly ideal.

She’s a good hand if you’re gambling, she’s got a nice sillouette
she’s a good hand to be holding, but be careful she’s hard to forget.

Sweet Little Cob of Yellow Corn
(C. Morrison)

I knit my darling a quilt from your soft white silk,
you sweet little cob of yellow corn.

I’ll get a hundred dollar bill if I put you in my still,
you sweet little cob of yellow corn.

And I’ll grind you into flour and I’ll bake you for an hour,
you sweet little cob of yellow corn.

I’ll cut your stalks back in the fall, until next year – thats all.
you sweet little cob of yellow corn.

I Get By
(C. Morrison)

Well I’ve spent my whole life trying to get by
but lord I can’t get along, Lord I get by.

I ain’t got no savior, I ain’t got no home,
I ain’t got no savior, but I know I’ll get along.

Well good God what a plan was the ocean,
how could I get by? How could I get by?

I ain’t got no saviour, I ain’t got no home,
I ain’t got no sacious, but I know I’ll get along.

Ode To Autumn
(C. Morrison)

There’s more gold in one leaf of a cottonwood tree than in all the great chapels of Rome, In an arroyo in fall seems to tell all the things I had not known.

So let me play your guitar, and sing a song for you that already are.

The marigolds have gone to seed so guess that means we need to sweep the chimney and take off the screen door. Put some wood up on the porch, I can smell that fire scorching a half an inch of dust on the top.

So let me play your guitar, and sing a song for you that already are.

All the hens are bound to roost, just like they always do, in a bed of straw just knowing snow is near. While the horses grudge and neigh, the dry switch back to hay, while the season takes it’s last breath for another year.

So let me play your guitar, and sing a song for you that already are.

Nobody’s Fool
(C. Morrison)

I might just raise me some hens out in the barn, I might quit my job, might go live out on the farm.
But I ain’t gonna be, nobody’s fool but my own.

Potatoes in a patch, I’ve got a little plot of corn, I’ve got rows and rows of green beans waiting to be born.
But I ain’t gonna be, nobody’s fool but my own.

In house, outhouse, just dig a bigger track, there may be two feet of snow but I’ve got big boots in the back.
But I ain’t gonna be, nobody’s fool but my own.

You’re right I guess you’re the lucky one, got a strip mall every mile, and all I’ve got’s a spring-fed creek – roars just like the nile.
But I ain’t gonna be, nobody’s fool but my own.

You may just write me off, say I’m living in the past, but I say empires are meant to crumble only stars are meant to last.
But I ain’t gonna be, nobody’s fool but my own.

It’s Good To Get Up In The Morning
(C. Morrison)

You whistle like a lark and you sing like a jay,
it’s good to get up in the morning.

The drippings are in the cast iron pan on the stove,
it’s good to get up in the morning.

You’re quaking like a leaf and you shiver like a pine,
it’s good to get up in the morning.

You’re dripping like sap you’re bending like a bow,
it’s good to get up in the morning.

You shiver like a lark and you sing like a jay,
it’s good to get up in the morning.

Jealous Sea
(C. Morrison)

Oh that wind sails from the East, every time that it blows you away from me,
that cruel sky has yet to cease, when mornings turn to evenings, into nights like these,
she done got blowed away.

If you rake and hoe, I will pull the weeds and all the world will surely be green,
and then the earth no fruit shall bear, untill you are back here with me.

Oh that sea on down below, i equip my ship with sails but the winds won’t blow,
I knock a hole through the floor of my boat, but that goddamn jealous sea just keeps keeping me afloat.

If you rake and hoe, I will pull the weeds, all the world will surely be green,
and then the earth no fruit shall bear, untill you are back here with me.

Load of Pine
(C. Morrison)

Going up the backyard, get me a load of pine.
Bring it on down the mountain with a tractor and a line.

Bring it on down…

Save the oak grove for later, later on in the year.
It is bound to get much colder, before the spring time is here.

Bring it on down…

Put in that red steel wedge and hit it with a maul.
Hear those splinters crack and watch the peices fall.

Put it in the woodshed or stack it on the porch,
pile it in the Ashley, light a match and watch it scorch.

Bring it on down…

I’m Alright, I’m Okay
(C. Morrison)

There’s no getting over me now, no getting over me now.
I’m not saying that I’m proud, but there’s no getting over me now.

But I’m alright, yes I’m okay.

It’s always summertime down in Florida, I guess Thanksgiving is never going to come.
It’s always Thanksgiving time down where I come from…

But I’m alright, yes I’m okay.

Don’t get over me yet, just please don’t get over me yet.
I’m not saying that I’m bound to forget you baby, but there’s no getting over me now.

But I’m alright, yes I’m okay.

Let My Last Breath Exclaim…
(C. Morrison)

When my time on Earth is done Lord, and I say my final prayer,
got my family all around me, and there is music in the air.

Let my last breath exclaim a single word… Hallelujah.

Well there are angels all around me, and they say that I’ve got my wings,
but I won’t be for certain untill I hear those angels sing.

Let my last breath exclaim a single word… Hallelujah.

It Is Red, But It Is Not A Wooden Swing
(C. Morrison)

My thumb has got a blister, about the size of a nickel,
and my palm holds a nickel about the size of a dime.

I try to jump the car battery with incence and flattery,
but there’s something inside of me that says ‘just try the key.’

But grab the rope and hope for hope and pray and hope that you’ll see…
Another day after me.

It is red, but it not a wooden swing, it is red but it is a good’n swing,
it flies right through the air back forth, north to south and south to north.

But grab the rope and hope for hope and pray and hope that you’ll see…
Another day after me.

 

Subcontinent

Song of The Lark
(C. Morrison)

Standin’ up to my knees in switchgrass, looking at the bottom of the hill, breadbasket done filled up with hotdog buns, ain’t nobody left around to run the mill.

Them folks just drove away in their fancy car, and they didn’t turn around to look back, but we’ve got a nice big box store, and some satellite TV, ain’t nothin’ around here we lack.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Which came first the prophet or the beggar? Which came first, the oil or the war? I guess it doesn’t matter ’round here anymore.

When I can’t taste the difference between the package and the fruit, I must be eatin’ apples in March, but underneath my wooly hat are headphones on, I’m listen’ to the song of the lark.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Which came first the prophet or the beggar? Which came first, the apple or the core? I guess it doesn’t matter ’round here anymore.

Don’t choose the desert to play nine holes, I ain’t never seen my God at the mall, and we’ve got 6 billion brothers and sisters in this world and we’d better take care of ‘em all.

Chip O’ Silicon
(C. Morrison)

I sit on the streetside, we’ve got a lot of damage done. Our hearts are made of plastic, we’re trading our handshakes for guns. I’ll trade my children for a drop of gasoline.

I sit high up in a tree, need a vehicle for bills. Got a colony in my back yard, I’ll kill them if I till. I’ll trade my tractor for a chip of silicon.

I sit on the airplane, fly from Bangalore to home. It’s poorer here than Canjilon, it’s richer here than Rome. I’ll trade my comfort if you shave away my sins.

I sit on the platform, got a ticket in my hand. I’m hoping that I’ll feel at home, get my feet back in the sand. I’ll trade for window if you want to have the aisle.

So Much Brighter
(C. Morrison)

You’ve been looking for something, maybe its me.
Things been looking so much brighter, leave me alone.

I don’t know what to tell you, except maybe for go home.
Things been looking so much brighter, leave me alone.

You’ve been out in the cold for way too long.
Things been looking so much brighter, leave me alone.

Weepin’ Wheels
(C. Morrison)

The tracks, they run on standard time, the weepin’ wheels whine. A car full of baggage is running out of time. Sittin’ on a folding bed, not standing on a dime, a car full of baggage is running out of time.

But then she came and said to me, I think I’ll say goodnight, but praise the lord I held my ground and left without a fight. Prophecies and setting suns, stop them in their tracks. Though it may be self control, it ain’t the goal I lack.

I’ve got a bag full of something and a belly full as well… At least I think I’ve got a belly full, as far as I can tell. The ground is going hungry and the well is going dry, but here even death gets hungry, even death dies.

Well, mother’s got her birthday and David’s lost his mind. I’m sitting here to waste away, I hope you’ve got some time. The tracks they run on standard time, the weepin’ wheels whine, a car full of baggage is running out of time.

The Ballad of Nathan Quinn
(C. Morrison)

Step to the right, get out of the sunlight. This ship will sink itself in the end.
Step to the right, get out of the way, because all you’ve been is in the way today.

I want to tell you how I’ve been – The tired confused and lazy, Nathan Quinn.

Get out of the way, or they’re be hell to pay, fifty tons of tail, comin’ at you. I’m surrounded by, modern day technology but it still won’t say how you feel you about me.

Step to the left, I’m going in, because all you take are pictures every day.
Step to the left, you’re gonna win, and I’d like to call you ‘baby,’ if I may.

Peace of Mind
(C. Morrison)

The leaves are getting greener, I just can’t see where to go, except that one place that I’ve been before. The leaves are getting greener, I just can’t seem to find, except for that one place that I had in mind.

I can’t seem to find any peace of mind.

Ain’t got no money in my pockets and I’ve got a head full of lead. But, at least I’ve got my appetite, just like Mama said. I wish I had a lover or maybe just somewhere to be, but all I’ve got are these city streets to comfort me.

Humble Hen
(C. Morrison)

My thumbnail’s black from the hammer’s swing, but I guess it’s still the same in spite of everything. The stars are out shining like they’ve always been, but I can’t find my way to go home.

William’s shooting gophers with his .22, from across the table I look up at you. Now I can still see the moon, so I know I’m not alone, but I still can’t find my way to go home.

The rains peck the ground like a humble hen, the gods pack on up and move on out again. The sun bakes the garden before it’s grown. Can’t find my way to go home.

William’s shootin’ gophers now, just for fun. If he could he’d trade his love in for another gun. Now I know we ain’t the only two under the moon, I know I’ll find my way back home soon.

Almost Like an Angel
(C. Morrison)

You ain’t got nothin’ to hold over me. You ain’t got nothin’ so just let it be. Put your money where you mouth is and wrap your mouth around the word. I know it seems outrageous, but it’s really just absurd.

I ain’t got no time to spend on you. Because you…

See your mother stand before you, so you open up the door. It’s just like you’ve seen her there at least a hundred times before. You ain’t got no backbone, and you ain’t got no spine. High gloss veneer and unseen eyes, soon will come a time.

Almost like an angel, you’ve got two more wings to go. When heaven calls your number, you’ll be knocking down the door. You ain’t got no halo, and you ain’t dressed in white. When heaven your number, you said you’ve already seen the light.

Tied To The Chestnut Tree
(C. Morrison)

Less than a hundred years ago, I went to see my home.

You were not there, but the sun doesn’t care, she shines on.

Sing, for we scour our lifetimes for something that sounds like a song.

New man in town walking around in a white linen coat, ten thousand yellow butterflies follow in float. New man in town walking around in a white linen hat, ten thousand yellow butterflies, what do you think of that?

The fire ants are eating the white wash walls, Mama’s out back picking oregano. A couple memories are kept of our son that flew west in the fall.

The Jesus III
(C. Morrison)

You ain’t got a hold on me, when I say the other way, I mean to look at me.
Some be jealous and some be fine, when I say to speak your mined I mean to be defined.

Because I am going where I’ve been.

Sit on the floor and think about love, when I say to get high, I mean fly like a dove.

Jesus come down and sit by me, when the weight of the world is too much, you can count on me.

The Earth is Surely Turning
(C. Morrison)

The earth is surely turning, I can feel it as it spins. And its a miracle every time that the night ends. Reeds and weeds and flowers grow, up until the dawn. Life and strife and confused hearts, they will all soon be gone.

I don’t know what love is for, but I can see it in your eyes. The moon blinks twice and bows her head, and then she says goodnight.

I’ve just been driving through the night. My spirits are heavy my eyelids are drooping I wait for the morning light. I’ve just been driving through the night, my spirits are heavy my eyelids are drooping, I wait to see if you’re still on my side.

Lean in a bit closer, could you just give me a light. Because I can barely see tomorrow, but all I need is tonight. Call it back to me, so that I have the order right, horizons stretch like skyscrapers, if I knew how to leave, I just might.

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Songwriter, Singer, Multi-instrumentalist