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Son Volt




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Son Volt Album


American Central Dust (07/07/2009)
07/07/2009
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When the levee goes the heart breaks away
The mind holds back
Just loose dirt in pouring rain
The truth is not free
And everyone must pay the price

There were diamonds
There was gold in your eyes
Now just silence and broken words on the side
The journey is never done and the way is long

This love is like celebrating
4th of July with dynamite
4th of July with dynamite

There is no right way
Only the way that keeps your mind free
Every moment to count
In the living judgment day

Life to live shall not be a burden
Carried on shoulders, the long mystic trial
Dreams leave the dust
No blues are coming down this time

. . .


Wake up to the Biddle Street blues
Can't shake the news
All the way to the big dome they're trying

The intrigues of the new royalty
And the believers in the afterlife
Share the same gamblers pages

Cobblestone streets saw 3 sovereign flags
As they raised their glasses
To conquest and nation

Still pawns playing out the legacy
Of long dead industry titans
And haters of men

Down to the wire

Plastic grocery bags fly from trees
Proud symbols of a cavalier progress

Memories and landscapes in triage
Disappearing averages
Permanent changes

No jury will have a final say
Everyone knows the jury is guilty

Faced with no plan at all
Just to trick a smile out of the moment

Down to the wire

. . .


Smoke fills the dreams
Of the live gone lonely
Wait in line pay the man you might see
John Barleycorn make his way
Among the dirty diamonds

Shared ground and common radar
Honky tonks and biker bars
Finding worth in this world
From inside a rental car

Roll on with the dreamers
Believers in the steel eyed soul
The blessing is counted
When the deal goes down
So on and on we roll

Left to chance or left undone
Miles to go chasing the sun
The stones we throw always find us on the way down

The pace that changes each breaking of light
This man made destructive might
They say love conquers all and every
Don Quixote must have his day

Roll on with the dreamers
Believers in the steel eyed soul
The blessing is counted
When the deal goes down
So on and on we roll

. . .


I've had strychnine they thought I was dead
I snorted my father and I'm still alive
I did it because that's how it is done
I'm the same as everyone just kinda lucky

Body and soul cocaine and ashes
We'll get to that place in time
Just tears and blow on my mind

It's no way of life but I've tried everything once
I have no pretensions of immortality
I've been told I had 6 months to live
But I've outlasted them all

Body and soul cocaine and ashes
We'll get to that place in time
Just tears and blow on my mind

Senses and spirit, mourning and misery
Addiction is something I should know something about
Whatever gets done I know that I'll be blamed
But they say the king is the man who can

Body and soul cocaine and ashes
We'll get to that place in time
Just tears and blow on my mind

. . .


Hand in hand better angels
Are holding warning signs
Showing the way like teachers
And prophets of doom

Everyone has their idols
There will always be a story to tell
The search goes on
For balance and the final say

When you're lost and falling
Out of luck in the worst way
Love is a fog and you stumble
Every step you make

The dust of daylight pulls you down
And makes you wait
Love is a fog and you stumble
Every step you make

There will be words
And fault lines to fill
The hours of the days

More ways to buy trouble
Than a bail bondsman finds
Friends in jail

Time to leave now
Time to pack up all that you believe in
No contest here
But you'll be judged just the same

. . .


Who will work the assembly line
Who will pull the freight on time
Who will work the all night haul
Who will explain it all
When the wheels don't move

Bigger chariots didn't save Rome
Easy money didn't stay at home
They said the iron horse would always roam
Who will tell the children
When the wheels don't move

Man's power over nature
Hubris and greed let the fossil fuels burn
No way to keep the wings in flight
When the turbine engines don't move

Going green a casino catch phrase
Ethanol is made of smoke and mirrors
Who makes the decision
To feed the tanks and not the mouths
When the wheels don't move

The red planet as salvation
Divine hope turns to depredation
Who'll be left to make that station
Devoid of god and nation (we trust)
When the wheels don't move

. . .


So much promise with so much pain
Surveying eyes overloaded again
No signs to follow and the road is dark

16 miles out of Denver was slow
2000 markers more to go
Criss-crossing the country so many believe in

You're out there doing what you would die for
Believing there's no turning back

Let's take the cities that railroads built
Shipping lines and immigrants
Like Leadbelly says no use for the
Bourgousie towns

Reno—San Antonio
Elko—Nuevo Laredo
You're beat and bleeding
But stubbornly shining

Trying not to wear hearts on sleeves
But that's the way it seems to always be
The salt and the steel of the breath
Of those not keeping still

I look for you and I know you're out there
In this mind we breathe the same air
Lonely roads and freight trains
Will keep us sane

You're out there doing what you would die for
Believing till there's no turning back

. . .


Memories of Crescent City
Wednesday nights at the Rock-n-Bowl
On the bandstand there is Snooks and guitar
Pure gasoline for the soul

Take me back to the Mound City
Any night across town
Bennie for blues and James for barrel house
The brown eyed handsome man is still around

You give yourself to the world
You don't hold back much of anything
Mother Theresa to the animal kingdom
You know how high to set the bar

You give your words freely
Takes it back to familiar ground
But when you hold your cards close to your chest
It shows you've been pushed too far

Looking back on Louisiana
Where the dirty water flows
And life there is a little easier
As anyone who has been through knows

Conversations turn to metaphors
The cards to the table you bring
Fold your hand but save your best for later
Don't know how long these angels sing

. . .


Shots are filled and boredom killed
The last chance purple of dawn
Pagan roads and catacombs
Lost on the way to the heart

Bar souls and shifty eyes
Grievances to the government
San Francisco and New York, NY
The best religion is faith in man

Too far along to let alone
Chasing a world to call your own
The sting of mortality
A reminder renewal only happens within
The damage has been determined
There's a different set of rules closing in

History repeats while the sick machine roars
Hustlers and wolves walk freely through the door
But when you go leave a smile on your face
We're exiles now pulling out of this place

Too far along to let alone
Chasing a world to call our own

. . .


April 27, 1865 the worst American
Disaster of the maritime

No one knows the count of lives lost
The soldiers, civilians and the sisters of charity

At $5 a head Captains Mason and Hatch
Boarded 6 times the legal load of the Sultana

Leaving Vicksburg bound for Cairo
Memphis was the tragic last port of call of Sultana

6 miles out of Memphis a boiler gave out
From the flooding swift river and extra heavy load of Sultana

The current was cold the river was wide
A mile to either side away from the burning Sultana

3 boilers blew fire and lit up the night sky
Hell was a better place than on board the Sultana

The worst American disaster on water
The Titanic of the Mississippi was the Sultana

Hell was a better place that night
The Titanic of the Mississippi was the Sultana

. . .


It's a full throttle train
An existential bane
It's only greys and blues
When nothing else matters

It takes a strong will
To keep it caged and still
It's only greys and blues
When nothing else matters

Seen it all coming down
In a dream soaked world nothing to fear
Seen it all coming down
Beats that pound and bars to clear

Souls for sale
In the junkyard
Tales of strength and doubt
And how to live without

Pages left blank
Around the music halls
Didn't find the meaning
Just answering the call

Seen it all coming down
In a dream soaked world nothing to fear
Seen it all coming down
Beats that pound and bars to clear

. . .


Continental motion certainty
The merciful wheels
Where the living are living on
Solvents and ashes

Time chain of loneliness
Half tone rebellions
Nomadic upturns and lights
The skeleton key turns the night

Antiheroes to follow to
Bar and string salvation
Throw the calendar away
Gonna find a jukebox of steel

A still life with a bottle
A newspaper and a glass
Carrot dangles and the dance goes on
The bitters circle the drain

Emancipate the commonplace
Ride high the relief roads
Of nightfall and enchanted ends
Revelry in borrowed clothes

Anti-heroes to follow to
Bar and string salvation
Throw the calendar away
Gonna find a jukebox of steel

. . .


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