Get all 13 Tracy Grammer releases available on Bandcamp and save 10%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of I'll Be Here in the Morning (Single), If I Needed You (Single), American Noel (Dave Carter & Tracy Grammer), The Verdant Mile EP, Low Tide, Joy My Love (EP), Little Blue Egg, Book of Sparrows EP, and 5 more.
1. |
Shadows of Evangeline
03:57
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it is rain, it is age, it is poison
supplication to family honor
little children with keys to the temple
red lights and silver dimes
it's waiting for a sun that punishes but seldom shines
living and dying in the shadow of evangeline
she is young, like her mother before her
put-up tired at the end of her labors
true-believing and ever-desiring
quiz shows and checkout lines
in porchlight halo ringed about by moss and hanging vines
she casts the never-changing shadow of evangeline
in the bang and the crash of the factory
in a hot, cutting season of metal
on the floor of an ocean of contracts
skin drums and shrunken heads
strange dances long undone go stamping in between the lines
old gods, incarnate in the shadow of evangeline
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2. |
Gypsy Rose
05:03
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my love is like a gypsy rose
wild is the only way he grows
out where the sweet july wind blows
he blooms over yonder
his voice is like a mountain stream
washes me clear, washes me clean
i walk along the banks serene
where he will wander
there is no hill high as the moon, no river deeper than the sea
no shooting star, reckless in flight, burns in the night
wild as the love he gave to me
only the rain knows where he goes
thunder and me, ramblin with my gypsy rose
and on the day we were wed
up to the altar he was led
lay like a prisoner in my bed
oh, how we shivered
so i built a house to keep him in
guarded him from the sun and wind
but in the autumn he grew thin
in winter, he withered
there is no hill ...
my love was buried in the spring
i see his face in blossoming things
one night i thought i heard him sing
down in the hollow
now it's been thirty years and three
every night he calls to me
and for as long as i shall be
i know i'll follow
there is no hill ...
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3. |
Laughlin Boy
04:26
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have you heard many a story
told by old and young with joy
about the faithful deed of daring
that was done by the laughlin boy
that was done by the laughlin boy
listen to me children, well i wouldn't tell a lie
listen to me children, well i wouldn't tell a lie
that laughlin boy was a boy of honor
and he loved virginia well
but he would not fire a rifle
so he sat in a cold jail cell
so he sat in a cold jail cell
he was pierced and he was beaten
forty stripes he gladly bore
but he would not serve the devil
in that awful civil war
in that awful civil war
listen to me children ...
twelve grey soldiers stood before him
and they aimed their rifles true
he prayed lord, oh please forgive them
for they know not what they do
for they know not what they do
those young soldiers would not fire
they defied the general's plan
so the army changed his sentence
who could murder such a man?
who could murder such a man?
listen to me children ...
they hauled him far away to richmond
far away from his kids and wife
there, pneumonia wracked his body
that good man soon lost his life
that good man soon lost his life
now his wife is sadly weeping
seven children wonder why
lord it seems that truth and honor
sure can come at an awful price
sure can come at an awful price
listen to me children ...
oh, have you heard many a story
told by old and young with joy
about the faithful deed of daring
that was done by the laughlin boy
that was done by the laughlin boy
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4. |
Hard to Make It
03:35
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lonesome stranger, won't you share my bed
the sidewalk siren at the bus stop said
love is a tear in a salty bay and it's
hard to make it in this world today
love is a river but the river run dry
the clouds blow bitter in a boneyard sky
flesh dries up and it burns away
and you can't remember where your heart once lay and it's
hard to make it in this world today
dandy don, he's a velvet hand
he's my silent partner, he's the inside man
holds me shakin through the shotgun dawn and he
keeps me walkin down this road i'm on
keeps me runnin when he calls my name
shines the light but he kills the flame
stones me simple when i try to speak
bruise my face but he kiss my cheek and it's
hard to make it when you get this weak
one of these mornins, gonna spread my wings
like a red-ass robin at the gates of spring
rise up singin on a cyclone wind
till the walls of this city come tumblin in
walls of this city come tumblin, rumblin
'round my head like an old man stumblin
i don't care if the mountains fall
there's a little blue egg in the middle of this all and it's
hard to make it when you feel so small
bus pulled up and i climbed inside
i sat in the window and i waved goodbye
she stood starin at the blue machine
singin, "nobody knows the trouble i've seen"
nobody cares and nobody knows
only weeds remember where your headstone grows and it's
dust to ashes and wings to clay and i
check my wallet as we pull away, 'cause it's
hard to make it in this world today
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5. |
Hey Ho
03:49
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tv's on, the favorite son is
watchin how the west was won
daddy, please, a plastic gun
get brother one for twice the fun
little camo helmet-heads
makin brave and playin dead
missiles made of gingerbread
and dollars on the dime
hey ho, so it goes, the point of sale, the puppet show
the merchant kings of war and woe have turned their hands to labor
sound out the trumpet noise, the cannons bark and jump for joy
someone's dread and darlin boy has fallen on his saber
another world across the sea
home for little busy bees
sweatin in some factory
hurry please, more of these
action dolls with laser sights
robot planes that shoot at night
faster kid, and get it right
they're rollin down the line
hey ho, so it goes ...
these days the spin machine
is always on the silver screen
secret plots and submarines
foreign fiends and magazines
wave the flag, watch the news
tell us we can count on you
mom and dad are marchin too
children, step in time
hey ho, so it goes ...
bring your kids and coddled pets
bouncin babes in bassinets
we'll play a game with tanks and jets
better yet, bayonets
marchin bands and color guards
funerals in your own backyard
don't forget your credit card
johnny, hold the line
hey ho, so it goes ...
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6. |
Mother, I Climbed
05:46
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...with thanks to texas poet alan gann, who gave this song a name
on tomorrow's painted wagon, in a yester-dreamin day
i rode to heaven never thinkin i'd be back this way
now i'm standin at your doorstep with my halo turnin grey
open up your gate, marianna
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
mother i sought the chosen people, but i found no one to comfort me
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
mother i climbed the highest steeple, i found nothin to believe
when they called my faults against the wall i took my place in line
and put my trust in priestly men to break the ties that bind
but their straight and narrow highway's just a row of billboard signs
open up your gate, marianna
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
mother i sang the sacred psalter but no savior came to comfort me
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
i went naked to the altar, i found nothin to believe
so i set my feet to walkin from the sidewalk to the sand
in search of any saint or sage who knew the master plan
yeah, i wandered every backroad in that broken promise land
open up your gate, marianna
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
mother i kept the plain and simple, but no shepherd came to comfort me
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
i stood shiv'rin in the temple, i found nothin to believe
as lightnin burns these bridges under, smoke will surely rise
and the fables of my innocence blow lazy through the skies
when timeless truths reveal themselves as little more than lies
open up your gate, marianna
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
mother i razed the tainted chapel, but no angel came to comfort me
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
mother i stormed the tower of babel, i found nothin to believe
sticks and stones might break this body and words might wound my soul
and phantom visions fly me where the faithful fear to go
but when this story's over and my sun is sinkin low
open up your gate, marianna
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
mother the years pass outta countin but no prophet comes to comfort me
lay me down in the dark womb of your love
mother i climbed the holy mountain, i found nothin to believe
mother i climbed the holy mountain, i found nothin to believe
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7. |
Preston Miller
04:41
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he was born in miller's mansion when the mistress was asleep
the secret son of the chambermaid and master
and they sent him into hidin for his schoolin and his keep
with the carlysles and the other lucky bastards
now his toady tutors fawn and praise the man that he's become
though he's taken to the laudenum and faro
he walks the streets like velvet death with his daddy's money on his breath
and a shame he cannot shake down in his marrow
when day fades to black you must not listen to the killer
pretty voices keep you beautiful and bound
cause the simple, sorry fact of your existence, preston miller
is enough to bring this house of evil down
one night upon some drunken dare he writes his absent sire
sayin father i would fain come home to meet thee
and though his worthless friends guffaw this sudden show of fire
another round of bourbon and it's easy
and this letter finds his father in his tower far away
and the hoary claw that holds it shakes and trembles
is it grief over a life misspent, or love or greed or mere contempt
or something darker stirring in his temples
when day fades to black ...
a week gone by, he's wakened by a knockin at his door
and he drags himself half-wasted to the threshold
it's a message in his father's quill sayin meet me scion, if you will
at the very stroke of midnight in the meadow
now he has combed his laggard locks and hired a comely roan
and he's met his comrade fops around the fountain
and he's bidden each a grand goodbye and he's cantered off alone
to meet his aged father in the mountains
when day fades to black ...
come out come out my father dear, i honor thee tonight
he shouts as he goes weavin in the saddle
and he sees the stars go blinkin by like the twinkle in a trollop's eye
and six riders ridin madly in the shadows
this morning sailed a ship of fools across a sea of gin
with a blind and grinning reaper at the tiller
and it drove an aging jacob to his lone and bitter end
and a bullet through the brain of preston miller
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8. |
Winter When He Goes
05:01
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as the sun is to the city in the endless weeping winter
so is joy to me, and pity when he leaves me falsely tender
like the true love's knot we tethered, plastic ivy 'round the portal
for to frame the spring forever though the blizzard took the mortal holy rose
it's always winter when he goes
as a matter of convenience we don't speak of dying gardens
as a woman of heart and lenience, i make liberal with my pardons
i am generous with kindness; he, with smiles and exultations
though he binds his wounds in silence, i my own in practiced patience, lest he know
it's always winter when he goes
he collects the twigs and briars
i stack them up for fire
but it's chilly for the burning
he slumbers in the straw
i hold out for the thaw
but the seasons won't be turning
as i'm writing you this letter the bluestem's runnin riot
the daisies break their fetters and the bees will not lay quiet
if you find him where he's dancin with his lover or his jailer
say in april's splendid mansion i lay broken by his trailer in the snow
it's always winter when he goes
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9. |
Phantom Doll
04:07
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...dedicated to byron isaacs and george javori. this is the last song dave carter wrote.
raggedy ann came out to play
kittened a thin disguise against the day
painted a face across the mask
victim of the looking glass:
store windows are cruel
mannequin charms outshine her own
runnin away from her reflection home
hangin her head behind the door
sleepin on the kitchen floor
in glorious dreams
she walks outside her skin
her face so fine, her waist so thin
her voice like chimes and mandolins
beautiful phantom doll
saturday night on circus street
beating a long and ill-conceived retreat
carnival barkers bar her way
she never hears a word they say
in glorious dreams
she strolls, the boys beseech
the venus queen of venice beach
so near, so ever out of reach
beautiful phantom doll
midnight, the struggle is over
rise up, lily-white delicate shoulders
outside, the poets all know her
all of her children are waiting
beggars and wrecks line junkyard lanes
tiffany slippers click-clack through the rain
rickety bones and sheer chiffon
dancin on the mayor's lawn
in glorious dreams
they glide through gilded rooms
the drakes and gravely pale dragoons
the wasted daughters of the moon
beautiful phantom doll
raggedy andy wrote this song
scribbled it here where oceans meet the dawn
scuttled away on hansen claws
cinderella sailors draw
on glorious dreams
sunrise, she spins her spells
on rising tides of wishing wells
on aphrodite lotus shells
beautiful phantom doll
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10. |
Any Way I Do
04:40
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in the redwing valley
on the injun side
upon my daddy's pony i would ride
now i work in the city
on the fact'ry line
and i sing the rock of ages
in a midnight choir sometimes
in praise or lamentation
peace or desperation
any way i do, i come into
the presence of the lord
in the twilight hour
when the whistle blow
out upon that shotgun street i go
johnny walker on the sidewalk
askin for my change
prophesyin thunder, man he's
sleepin in the rain
in praise or lamentation ...
hey, can you hear the trumpet blowin
hey, won't you come up where i am
sister will you walk beside me where i'm goin
up the shadow canyon in the pure blood of the lamb
when the midnight special
come to take me home
and the toothless buzzard time gnaws down my bones
i will sail on a river
in a boat of reeds
cryin, "come oh come emmanuel in this, my hour of need"
in praise or lamentation ...
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Tracy Grammer Greenfield, Massachusetts
Writer. Actor. Storyteller. Singer. Multi-instrumentalist. Former head cheerleader, now a fearless navigator of the
heart.
“One of the finest pure musicians anywhere in folkdom.” - Boston Globe
“A brilliant artist.” - Joan Baez
“Her gifts as a musician are like that of a painter who is a master of chiaroscuro, offering light and shadow at every turn.“ - Mary Chapin Carpenter
... more
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