THE QUARTER
I built myself a little quarter
In the middle of the woods
In the middle of the woods
I often go there to sing a little old song
a little old song
Me in my quarter, my quarter
It fits my every mood
It fits my every mood
I sit and sing a song and my guitar
My guitar sings a long
My guitar sings a long
The quarter where I sing
And the quarter where I play
HIGH NOTES
Five rusty hinges on an old guitar case
Six dead strings hanging lifeless from the neck
Flat-top covered in a dusty layer thick
It seems to me the good times won’t be coming back
Can’t hit the high notes like I used to
Can’t fret these fingers like before
O-thirteen strings are digging deep into my skin
This guitar will do me in
Can’t hit the high notes like I used to
Cracks in the woodwork, blisters on my hands
Worn off the finish to the 4th fret on the neck
The old cow bone saddle sunk into the bridge
It seems to me the good times won’t be coming back
I heard the words to that oldtime song
That high lonesome sound is not where I can go
SHUTEYE
Am I the only one that didn’t get
to shut his eyes last night
My mind the only mind that didn’t get any rest
While the lights were out
The blinds were down
The birds in their nests
Am I the only one that didn’t get
to shut his eyes
I heard the church bells ringing
Counting the hours
The morning still light years away
I am tossing and turning
’T is all I have got
Am I the only one that didn’t get
his eyes to shut
There’s a song in my head it
Won’t sing me to sleep
It sits there poking my brain
I’m still picking the guitar
Still singing the song
Am I the only one whose eyes were open
all night long
DECEMBER BLUES
Did we see the colours changing
From the summertime to fall
Did the skies replace their blue shades
For a blanket grey and dull
Did we lose a bunch of daylight
Did we touch the clock at all
December blues, December blues
December blues, December blues
Were we chased out of the forest
Where we used to be all night
Did we try to hold the sunshine
Did we try with all our might
Were we put into our quarters
Forced to sit under a light
December blues, December blues
December blues, December blues
Did we think the days were endless
That the evening wouldn’t fall
The skies would hold their waters
That the snow storm didn’t call
Did we store our winter jackets
In a wooden chest so tall
December blues, December blues
December blues, December blues
RED LANTERN
I used to go out riding
thought myself among the best
It felt so good I felt so fresh
I’ve never been so fast
I used to be the leader
The first to cross the line
Hands up in celebration
Could taste the prize was mine
Now I’m riding with my head down
Years of pain upon my face
No longer in the front
No longer setting pace
Shoulder rubbing shoulder
I’m getting pushed down to the side
The young ones riding past me
I can see them left and right
I carry the red lantern
I’m the last one of the pack
I used to be up front and
Now you find me at the back
The pace’s gotten faster
Been so hard to keep on track
I carry the red lantern
I’m the last one of the pack
EIGHT HOURS
When I was a young boy
Younger than I am today
I would lay my head down
And my dreams washed me away
High up in the attic
In the dreamlands safe and sound
Wrapped up nicely in my blanket
Every night I could be found
Head down upon the pillow
The hallway light under the door
The sound of parents softly speaking
A little ways below my floor
What happened in the daytime
Kept at bay behind the door
Resting easy with a conscience
That would bother me no more
Then abrupt like lightning
Something broke, a wire snapped
No more amongst the dreamers
Eight long hours in my bed
Suddenly the nighttime
Lost its wonder, lost its spark
And the worries of the morning
Kept me up, kept me up in the dark
Fighting through the hours
Wrestling with the sheets
Stillness all around me
Not a pin drop in the streets
Even now I still go sleeping
With this doubting heart of mine
Will I struggle through the darkness
Will I wake up and feel fine
CHICORY
When the sun is sinking low
When the day is getting old
And my feet are getting weary
And my hands are getting cold
When I need a little something
For to cherish and to keep
When I want a drop to drink
But I can’t do without sleep
Dark and sweet, Chicory
Sweet and warm, Chicory
Chicory, Rick-a-choo
Chicory
When I need to warm my fingers
My high hopes drifting away
When I need to lift my spirits
Here’s the drink to save the day
When I fumble in my pockets
When I cannot find the key
This one thing unlocks the secret
There is one thing saving me