1. |
Idle Hands
03:11
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What shall I do with these idle hands?
Tell me what shall I do with these idle hands?
Bring me a spool of finest thread.
Won’t you bring me a spool of finest thread?
Gonna make you a fine coat of colors to wed.
The trees won’t bud; the wind won’t blow;
The dead can’t live if the living lie low.
What use have I for a handsome sleeve?
What use have I for a handsome sleeve?
What need have I to dress handsomely
When the widow won’t deign to marry me?
Get you down to Oxford fair!
There’s many a fine girl dancing there
The trees won’t bud if the wind won’t blow;
The dead can’t live if the living lie low.
And where will I find a chapel to wed?
Tell me where will I find a chapel to wed?
And who will I find to get the scriptures said?
For the judge is drunk and the deacon’s dead.
Go get you down to Oxford fair!
There’s many a fine girl dancing there
The trees won’t bud when the cold wind blows
The dead can’t live if the living lie low
So what need have I for a handsome sleeve?
What use have I for a spool of thread?
And what shall I do with these idle hands?
Cuz the devil might come and take this man.
Go get you down to Oxford fair!
There’s many a fine girl is dancing there
The trees wont bud when the cold wind blows
The dead can’t live if the living lie low
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2. |
What's a Body to Do?
03:47
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Boil the sun and ladle it out in stars
You thought the nights were dreams that wouldn’t ever leave you
Pulled a string and the heavens came crashing down;
Without a soul to tell whoever would believe you?
So what’s a body to do?
On your way to missing it all this time.
All the nights you spent a-wishing and a-writing
To meet a sleepy dawn song playing, not straying,
Just praying some friendly spirit was abiding.
So what’s a body to do?
Except boil the sun and ladle it out in stars
You thought the nights were dreams that wouldn’t ever leave you
Pulled a string and the heavens came crashing down;
Without a soul to tell whoever would believe you?
So what’s a body to do?
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3. |
The Seven Hills of Rome
03:25
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The day you were born the heather was high;
Your breath was warm and the season was dry.
Your Mama raised you down the road a spell; she raised you like an angel
Lost out in the thorns.
Seven hills up and seven hills down,
The river took your daddy, and he never got found
Well you hear the old folks say some men ain’t for finding.
Just a cool mountain breeze to a world on fire
A deep-woods rose that never caught a glance
Was it all by chance? Just a near run thing?
Your eyes so wild, a laugh like rain, like love’s own child
But you never had a thing.
Not from any man you’d know, not from any place in Georgia,
Just the seven hills of Rome.
Cool autumn days like birds in flight.
Singing with the choir every Saturday night.
And when the nights drew in, the hillsides made you a crown.
So let a word come down
Let it fall like rain
Let a word come down
The day you left the snow was piled;
Your breath ran short and the river ran wild.
Your Mama walked you down the road a spell;
she hugged you like a stranger...
Just a cool mountain breeze to a world on fire
Another shy beast that never made a sound.
Well, let the word come down! Let it fall like rain!
A blade newborn. A pine-knot crown. A tongue like a thorn
But you never said a thing
Not to any man you’d know, not to any place in Georgia,
Just the seven hills of Rome.
Nothing hurts like home. Like a bird’s sprung wing.
Your eyes so wild, a laugh like rain, like love’s own child…
But you never took a thing.
Not from any man you’d know, not from any place in Georgia,
Just the seven hills of Rome.
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4. |
Point Coupee
03:38
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Booked in a corner room where dirty blinds block a western view
And a wake-up call is a promise made that I’ll stick around another day.
I can see you here sitting by these paper walls, by a bathroom light you used to scrawl a letter you sent on motel script that said, “Come to Point Coupee.
You broke my heart when you disappeared, you wrote me a note and now I’m here But it seems you’ve found another hole to swallow up your pilgrim soul. You turned me on to these bitter pills, like the way you loved me, if you love me still
Come back to the place you told me to wait
Come to Point Coupee. Won’t you come to Point Coupee?
This Percodan should make me smile but that’s another vicious lie,
Like those you wrote to me in a letter signed with love last November.
And sent from Point Coupee. That you sent from Point Coupee.
This Percodan should make me smile but that’s another vicious lie,
Like those you wrote to me in a letter signed with love last November.
And sent from Point Coupee. That you sent from Point Coupee.
And sent from Point Coupee. That you sent from Point Coupee.
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5. |
Weight of the Whale
03:01
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Swimming down in the deep, gonna drink it dry
Find that dragon’s beak, gonna square it with vine
I’ve been gone, they say, like a wild-eyed ribbon,
Like a soft plum beneath our father’s knife.
Well I know, my lady, we’re the best friends
Although that sounds a waste in the best of plans.
Facing dawn waylaid by wild-eyed living; God knows I’d rather die believing
That a hundred nations sleep beneath the weight of the whale.
Sitting down on the beach, watch the waves roll on
I told myself not to stay too long
Captain’s over now for days in waiting, but I know I’ll make my way
where a hundred nations sleep beneath the weight of the whale
Captain’s over now for days in waiting, but I’m praying night and day
For those hundred thousand sleeping ‘neath the weight of the whale.
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6. |
Wishin' Don't Know
02:48
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Mountains in sunlight, the mountains in June.
Singing by moonlight and sleeping til noon.
Hey now, what a shame wishing don’t make it so.
Early to bed, boys, and early to rise
Makes a man healthy but rarely so wise.
Hey now, what a shame wishing don’t make it so.
Hey now, what a shame what wishing don’t know.
Plum as a poem and turned like a phrase,
Crowned with the laurels and bowed for the bays
Hey babe, what a shame wishing don’t make it so.
You got me straight as an arrow and round at the rail
Soft as a cowslip and strong as a gale
Hey gal, what a shame wishing don’t make it so
Hey now, what a shame what wishing don’t know.
Oh, but I’d never wish you away.
No, now, I’d never wish you away.
No, now, I’d never wish you away.
All I want is you to stay.
Now you get me jumping out windows and slipping off stones,
Racing the moonlight and hollering home
Hey now, what shame wishing don’t make it so.
And now you clear off the table and turn off the light
Take a last look as you whisper goodnight
Hey now, what a shame wishin’ don’t make it so
Hey now, what a shame what wishin’ don’t…
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7. |
Leaving of Baltimore
02:53
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Come away from the window, my own true love, turn away from the westerly sun.
There’s a sheriff’s man come to chain my guilty hands
And a Union Army asking for my gun.
So fare thee well, my blue-eyed belle,
For my troubles rise to greet me with the dawn,
It ain’t the leaving of Baltimore that grieves me so
But all the nights spent absent from your arms.
I woke last night from a fitful dream: you were lying in another man’s bed.
Never word so kind that could ease my jealous mind
Til I found young Wilbur Rose and done him dead.
So fare thee well, my blue-eyed belle,
For my troubles rise to greet me with the dawn,
It ain’t the leaving of Baltimore that grieves me so
But all the nights spent absent from your arms.
Gone away, gone away down to Arkansas. Gone away for to feed the Johnny’s Guns.
They’ve greedy smile and I hope to pass the while
Planted deep beneath the westerly sun.
So fare thee well, my blue-eyed belle,
For my troubles rise to greet me with the dawn,
Ain’t the leaving of Baltimore that grieves me so
But all the nights spent absent from your arms.
So fare thee well, my blue-eyed belle,
For my troubles rise to greet me with the dawn,
Ain’t the leaving of Baltimore that grieves me so
But all the nights spent absent from your arms.
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8. |
The Old Tithe Barn
03:42
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These days are dark as a burned out candle.
These nights are cold as a garment torn.
I aim to bind up my troubles as treasure,
Gonna lay them down at the old tithe barn.
That old tithe barn of crooked timber
Stands now waiting with an open door.
Lay down your heart, life’s dull confusion,
Come and lay them down on this harvest floor.
There is no hunger in that far valley.
There is no blood that calls beneath the stones.
There is no life of de-spoilation.
Come and lay you down on this harvest floor.
There is no hunger in that far valley.
There is no blood that calls beneath the stones.
There is no life of de-spoilation.
Come and lay you down at the old tithe barn.
I see a light in an open window.
I wear a coat that’s long and warm.
I aim to bind up my troubles as treasure,
Gonna lay them down on this harvest floor.
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James River Lanterns Richmond, Virginia
James River Lanterns is a folk and rock recording project from songwriter Seth M Martin (Sinful Savages).
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