Songs from Lincoln Durham's
The Shovel vs. The Howling Bones
All songs written by Lincoln Durham / Published by Rayburn Publishing, SESAC
1. Drifting Wood 4:23
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar / Derek O'Brien: Guitar / Rick Richards: Drums
One path leads to destruction
I got two idle hands that'll get me there
Three stand before me to enlighten
I'd reach for the shores if I dared
Let the wind act as a savior
Let it guide like a savoir should
May the river have mercy
Have mercy on the drifting wood
I may be hanging from a tree come next morning
Gone to from whence I came
My world is burning down to ashes
By match or by chance it's all the same
Let the wind act as a savior
Let it guide like a savoir should
May the river have mercy
Have mercy on the drifting wood
These waters are deep and they are unheeding
I could swim upstream or just go along for the ride
The latter of which has this clear warning
That's to doom myself to a passive suicide
Let the wind act as a savior
Let it guide like a savoir should
May the river have mercy
Have mercy on the drifting wood
2. Last Red Dawn 3:10
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar / Jeff Plankenhorn: Mandolin / Rick Richards: Drums
I walk through the valley
I see no stars tonight
They've all died away
Because the blood they're spilling
Floods like a crimson tide
Red skies turn black as night
It means you'll see that next sun come
But if they're fiery red in the morning light
It means you'll see that last red dawn
I see all the misery
Of what is dead and gone
And the sails, they cry in vain
Because the ship they're sailing is made up of skin and bones
Red skies turn black as night
It means you'll see that next sun come
But if they're fiery red in the morning light
It means you'll see that last red dawn
I feel a storm coming
It whispers in the night
And the sea it just trembled
When it sees that last red light
3. Living This Hard 3:26
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar, Harmonica / Rick Richards: Drums
Stick our fruit mason jars
Snapping peas in the backyard
Been a year now with my hands in the dirt
Blood on my fingers can't show it hurts
We gonna see if next Sunday comes
I ain't gonna make it if the working ain't done
Working ain't done 'til the setting sun
I got an old dreadnaught through a Bell and Howell
It ain't the best of ways but it'll work somehow
I don't need me a little band
Because Mr. Davis says I got a sporting right hand
We gonna see if next Sunday comes
I ain't gonna make it if the working ain't done
Working ain't done 'til the setting sun
Look out boys you're about to learn
There comes a time when the cactus burns
Life ain't never gonna spare the rod
I can't keep living, living this hard
My kin folks say don't forget who you are
Them's words that's got me living this far
There comes sometimes when I get real low
I wish my memory didn't serve me so
We gonna see if next Sunday comes
I ain't gonna make it if the working ain't done
Working ain't done 'til the setting sun
Look out boys you're about to learn
There comes a time when the cactus burns
Life ain't never gonna spare the rod
I can't keep living, living this hard
4. Clementine 3:22
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar, Harmonica / Ray Wylie Hubbard: Guitar / Bucca Allen: Grand Piano / Rick Richards: Drums
Clementine, don't you cry for me
When the smell of the roses fades eventually
Just go for now and leave me to my sleep
I'm free from this world, from this painful heartbeat
Hey, Clementine
Don't you cry for me
Clementine, may your path be blessed
Never again to wear your black veil and dress
Let each step take you far from pain
Don't let this world leave its dirty old black stain
Hey, Clementine
Don't you cry for me
Clementine, now it's time to part
There's no breath in me, but still an ache in my heart
Just give me one last smile and dry your eyes
We had our time, and now it's time to say goodbye
Hey, Clementine
Don't you cry for me
5. Mud Puddles 3:27
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar (1929 Gibson HG-22), Wooden Cone Resonator, Fiddle / Rick Richards: Drums
I got a nickel that I keep here in my pocket
I got these snakeskin boots here wrapped around my feet
I got a picture that I keep here in a locket
Of a woman who's much too good for me
I said drifters they don't step in mud puddles
For fear they'll fill it up with their own blood
I said drifters they don't step in mud puddles
For fear they'll fill it up with their own blood
I got a pocket knife my daddy gave me when I was 20
I found this dusty old hat here at 25
The years of my living add up to plenty
But I doubt I'll ever make it to 29
I said drifters they don't step in mud puddles
For fear they'll fill it up with their own blood
I said drifters they don't step in mud puddles
For fear they'll fill it up with their own blood
In these familiar streets
I used to tread I see
Only shadows and demons instead
Constant reminders of the
Sins that I've made
Blood that I've lost
And the price I've paid
I said drifters they don't step in mud puddles
For fear they'll fill it up with their own blood
I said drifters they don't step in mud puddles
For fear they'll fill it up with their own blood
6. Reckoning Lament 3:10
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar, Harmonica / Rick Richards: Drums
Old sawbones got some age on him, that's why you show respect
He's long past his prime, his mind's a derelict
Another man with an open book, he laughs at your every move
He's reciting chosen verse of some Robert Johnson tune
He's singing:
"Whoa, the sun has gone to burnin'
Whoa, and the creek has gone dry
Whoa, black birds are circling
Over the hills, where the dead folk lie"
Sister runs the table, now she's shaking a pile of bones
Preaching to lose with the double-six cannot be condoned
Old blues man feeling might poorly, that's why he screams and howls
You ain't heard the slide guitar since the likes of Fred McDowell
He's playing:
"Whoa, the sun has gone to burnin'
Whoa, and the creek has gone dry
Whoa, black birds are circling
Over the hills, where the dead folk lie"
Ne'er-do-well in the dark corner, raising anxiety
Says the safest place in the world, is in-sanity
Strangers come from the four corners, with passion and discontent
They sing in harmony of the Reckoning Lament
They're singing:
"Whoa, the sun has gone to burnin'
Whoa, and the creek has gone dry
Whoa, black birds are circling
Over the hills, where the dead folk lie"
7. How Does A Crow Fly 2:36
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar (1964 Gibson J-45) / Rick Richards: Drums, Bird Feeder, Trash Can
I met a dove once white as snow
I turned her a shade of gray
A dove she wants to spread her wings
But a crow clips her dove wings away
How does a crow fly like an eagle
How does a crow fly like an eagle
How does a crow learn to fly so high
Where he can rise up to heaven again
I went down to the depths of despair
I wanted loose dirt on my grave
I felt around in the dark for a while
Among the wicked and depraved
How does a crow fly like an eagle
How does a crow fly like an eagle
How does a crow learn to fly so high
Where he can rise up to heaven again
How does a heart turn black as coal
How does a heart turn black as coal
How does a heart turn black as coal
How does a crow save his own wretched soul
How does a crow fly like an eagle
How does a crow fly like an eagle
How does a crow learn to fly so high
Where he can rise up to heaven again
8. Love Letters 2:57
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar / Rick Richards: Drums
I've been picking all the wallpaper off the walls
I've been calling all the numbers on the bathrooms stalls
I'm walking down a gravel road kicking a can
I've been trying to figure out just who I am
I'm searching
For some peace of mind
To steady
My steep decline
If you're gonna live
Then you're bound to learn
I've got love letters to burn
I've been washing myself in muddy water
I don't want to be clean, but I think I oughta'
I've been putting my sins right up on a shelf
To forget your past is to lose your self
I'm searching
For some peace of mind
To steady
My steep decline
If you're gonna live
Then you're bound to learn
I've got love letters to burn
Asked a part-time thief, "What should I do"
He said, "Use that pain to sing them blues"
He said, "One more thing that'll help my brother
Before you can open that door, you'd better close the other"
I'm searching
For some peace of mind
To steady
My steep decline
If you're gonna live
Then you're bound to learn
I've got love letters to burn
9. Georgia Lee 3:19
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar (1964 Gibson J-45) / Clay Berkes: Backup Vocal / Rick Richards: Drums
Georgia Lee she's like a springtime storm
She's gonna teach me to be withered, weathered and worn
Dresses all tattered and torn
She's gonna wallow in the mud
Born on the front porch of an old wood shack
She keeps everything she owns in a torn up burlap sack
Gives no account for where she's at
When she gonna wallow in the mud
Hey
Hey
Hey, Georgia Lee
We're gonna wallow in the mud
She's got an old guitar she claims was blessed by Muddy's hand
She can't play for much, but she can sure play that "Hoochie Coochie Man"
She's glad to show you anytime she can
That she can wallow in the mud
She's a wild child of the age of 32
You ask her what she's looking at she says
"Oh, boy I'm looking straight at you
Now whatcha' gonna do"
We're gonna wallow in the mud
Hey
Hey
Hey, Georgia Lee
We're gonna wallow in the mud
10. People Of The Land 3:23
Written by Lincoln Durham
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar (1929 Gibson HG-22), Wooden Cone Resonator, Fiddle / Idgy Vaughn: Backup Vocal
Alissa Durham: Backup Vocal, Cardboard Box / Ray Wylie Hubbard: Backup Vocal / Rick Richards: Drums, Cardboard Box
I've been around since the days of old
I'll stick around for years untold
I've faced the fires, and I've seen the rain
I've felt some pleasure, and all the pain
Seen my brother's blood fall into the sand
Shed by his neighbor's hand
We are the people of the land
And we ain't
And we ain't gonna die away
Silk and thread make a noble man
But it don't put the scars across his hand
A long gray beard and a wise old face
Won't be seen in your fancy place
Though my brothers are falling all around
You ain't gonna keep us down
We are the people of the land
And we ain't
And we ain't gonna die away
We're tilling up the land and we're staying strong
We're gonna be around when your money's gone
There'll be a time when you can hear them say
"Here come the people of the land
We'll be fortunate to be one of them one day"
We are the people of the land
11. Trucker's Love Song 4:46
Lincoln: Vocal, Guitar / Derek O'Brien: Guitar / Bucca Allen: Accordion / George Reiff: Guitar
Idgy Vaughn: Backup Vocal / Rick Richards: Drums
Another road, another city
The wheels keep rolling, on down the line
The price I pay, for this lonely life
Is getting higher, as time goes by
The only friend I know, is on the CB
We talk about the weather, because it kills the time
But, he'll soon fade away on that open road
And leave me thinking about you and I
I ride on through these dirty old towns
And every road sign says, that you ain't around
Another hard life long forgotten
On this lonely, dark highway
Through Amarillo, on my way to Colorado
It makes me remember how much I like that song
I'll be there long before morning
Thinking about you long after I'm gone
I ride on through these dirty old towns
And every road sign says, that you ain't around
Another hard life long forgotten
On this lonely, dark highway
Another road, another city
The wheels keep rolling on down the line
Singing along to "You Were Always On My Mind"
With my best Willie, it's getting better each day
You were always on my mind
And every road sign says, how far I left you behind
Another hard life long forgotten
On this lonely, dark highway
©2012 Lincoln Durham/Rayburn Publishing. P.O. Box 41962 Austin, Texas 78704. All Rights Reserved. 00TSVTHB-12