Childish Thing James McMurtry 2005 Compadre Records See the Elephant I saw Pete and Johnny too Dressed up in their Sunday suits Getting themselves all up to go Down to Richmond to the traveling show I fixed the gate like you told me to Done my chores like I always do And I won’t tell mama you let me go Down to Richmond to the traveling show Please Papa can I go Down to Richmond to the traveling show Please Papa don’t you say I can’t I just want to see the elephant I’ll borrow the truck from uncle Phil You know I can drive it well He won’t need it now that the hay’s all in Just let me go and see the elephant Sister she can’t go with me This is not for her to see Little brother you’ll get your chance To go down and see the elephant Little brother you’ll get your chance To go down and see the elephant They’re looking for a few good men Could be war by summer’s end Sure would hate it if I went And never got to see the elephant I saw Pete and Johnny too Dressed up in their Navy Blues Gettin’ themselves all up to go Down to Richmond to the traveling show Childish Things Aunt Clara kept her Bible Right next to the phone in case she needed a quote While she talked to someone In my memory she smiles While the blessing is said And visions of freeze tag dance in my head She says I’ll grow up bigIf I eat all my roast I’ll still believe in heaven But I won’t believe in ghosts anymore I’ll put away childish things Every other weekend at the age of thirteen With my fishing pole and my Field and Stream Ridin’ back home on the Trailways bus I looked out the window ‘Til I saw too much And I called my parents by their own first names I played in the alley But I didn’t play the game anymore I put away childish things The wolves howl all night long They won’t stop and they won’t go home Beneath my window they run Probably it’ll be alright If I keep it all locked up tight And wait ‘til daylight comes Now my boy goes like a house on fire He’ll never burn out and he’ll never retire And I remember when I used to think like that When I was young and the world was flat But I’m forty some years old now and man I don’t care All I want now is just a comfortable chair And to sell all my stock And live on the coast I don’t believe in heavenBut I still believe in ghosts. We Can’t Make It Here There’s a Vietnam Vet with a cardboard sign Sitting there by the left turn line Flag on his wheelchair flapping in the breeze One leg missing and both hands free No one’s paying much mind to him The V.A. budget’s just stretched so thin And now there’s more coming back from the Mideast war We can’t make it here anymore That big ol’ building was the textile mill that fed our kids and it paid our bills But they turned us out and they closed the doors We can’t make it here anymore See those pallets piled up on the loading dock They’re just gonna sit there ‘til they rot ‘Cause there’s nothing to ship, nothing to pack Just busted concrete and rusted tracks Empty storefronts around the square There’s a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere You don’t come down here unless you’re looking to score We can’t make it here anymore The bar’s still open but man it’s slow The tip jar’s light and the register’s low The bartender don’t have much to say The regular crowd gets thinner each day Some have maxed out all their credit cards Some are working two jobs and living in cars Minimum wage won’t pay for a roof, won’t pay for a drink If you gotta have proof just try it yourself Mr. CEO See how far $5.15 an hour will go Take a part time job at one your stores Bet you can’t make it here anymore There’s a high school girl with a bourgeois dream Just like the pictures in the magazine She found on the floor of the laundromat A woman with kids can forget all that If she comes up pregnant what’ll she do Forget the career, forget about school Can she live on faith? Live on hope? High on Jesus or hooked on dope When it’s way too late to just say no You can’t make it here anymore Now I’m stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store Just like the ones we made before ‘ Cept this one came from Singapore I guess we can’t make it here anymore Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I’m in Should I hate ‘em for having our jobs today No I hate the men sent the jobs away I can see them all now, they haunt my dreams All lily white and squeaky clean They’ve never known want, they’ll never know need Their shit don’t stink and their kids won’t bleed Their kids won’t bleed in their damn little war And we can’t make it here anymore Will work for food will die for oil Will kill for power and to us the spoils The billionaires get to pay less tax The working poor get to fall through the cracks So let ‘em eat jellybeans let ‘em eat cake Let ‘em eat shit, whatever it takes They can join the Air Force, or join the Corps If they can’t make it here anymore So that’s how it is, that’s what we got If the president wants to admit it or not You can read it in the paper, read it on the wall Hear it on the wind if you’re listening at all Get out of that limo, look us in the eye Call us on the cell phone tell us all why In Dayton Ohio or Portland Maine Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains That’s done closed down along with the school And the hospital and the swimming pool Dust devils dance in the noonday heat There’s rats in the alley and trash in the street Gang graffiti on a boxcar door We can’t make it here anymore Slew Foot (Howard Hausey, James C. Webb) Coming down the mountain boys what do I see Bear tracks bear tracks coming after me Better get your rifle before it’s too late The bear’s got a pig and he’s headed for the gate He’s big around the middle and he’s broad across the rump Making ninety miles an hour taking thirty feet a jump He ain’t never been caught he ain’t never been treed Some folks say he looks a lot like me I took all my money and I bought me some bees They started making honey way up in the trees I cut down the tree but my honey’s all gone Old Slew Foot done made himself at home The winter time’s coming and it’s twenty below The river’s froze over, where can he go We’ll chase him up the holler, run him in the well And shoot him in the bottom just to listen to him yell Bad Enough Where have been? I don’t want to know Probably some place I wouldn’t want to go Who were you with? What did you see? Whatcha talk about? Whatcha say about me? Where have you been? I won’t let it drop What were you thinking? When you gonna stop? What were you thinking? When you gonna learn? When you gonna give anything in return? What were you thinking? It better be good When you gonna act like you know you should? When you gonna act like you know you should? When you gonna do like you said you would? Well it goes all night like a broken record You know it wouldn’t take all that much To bring me down from all that pressure I guess you just know when it’s bad enough Well it goes all night like a broken record We come right back to the same old stuff We don’t back down and it don’t get better I guess you just now when it’s bad enough The car’s on the curb, the key’s in the lock Houses all dark up and down the block Swaying on the sidewalk, sneaking through the door Waitin’ for the sound of your shoes on the floor Waiting for the gallows, waiting for the noose Waiting for the sound of your combat boots ‘Cause the order’s come down to launch the attach Scheduled to commence the minute I get back Restless She gets a little restless in the spring She might follow the lines you sing Bullshit though they are ‘Cause sometimes that’s just the thing If delivered with panache and a certain grace Fingertips on satin lace Cutting cards and quoting Proust Whatever turns her wild mare loose She gets a little restless now and then She feels the changes in the wind Way down deep where I can’t see She can get clean away from me With a side step and subtle shift And the turning of a key Locks me out and lets me drift She’ll come back if I let her be She’ll come back if I let her be And I’m just a little down tonight I’m just a little down A little messed up is all I’m saying Just a little down tonightI’m just a little down But I believe I’ll make it Believe I’ll make it She gets a little restless I can tell When she goes back up inside her shell And the conversation slows To a stop and I might as well Be out alone on the highway Way off in the Utah sage Waving to the railroad crew That’s when I get restless too She gets a little restless in the spring She might follow the lines you sing Bullshit though they are Sometimes that’s just the thing Memorial Day Mama keeps tryin’ to get the game on the radio Daddy’s gotta know the score There’s a big yellow thing on a flat bed trailer Wonder what that thing’s for We got towels rolled up in the back seat window Keeping us out of the sun Just a hundred more miles and we’ll be at grandma’s Sure is gonna be fun Maybe she’ll take us fishin’ Maybe she’ll bake us a pie Remember like she did that one time Back before grandpa died It’s Memorial Day in America Everybody’s on the road Let’s remember our fallen heroes Y’all be sure and drive slow Ninety eight degrees in the shade of the tool shed Can’t go back in the house They’re all in the kitchen yellin’ ‘bout something Don’t know what it’s about Joey ‘n Mary said not to worry Said it’s just the same old figh tHappens whenever they all get together Everything’s really alright It’s Memorial Day in America This is how it’s supposed to be Let’s remember our fallen heroesIn the land of the free Daddy’s in the big chair sippin’ on a cold beer Grandma’s cuttin’ a switch She overheard Mary cussin’ her brother Called him a son of a bitch She got a good green limb off a sweet gum sapling Man that’s bound to sting But Mary don’t cry just stands there and takes it Doesn’t seem to feel a thing No Mary don’t cry, you know she’s a big girl Wonder what made her so mad She takes those licks looking in through the den door Staring right straight at her dad There’s a big yellow thing on a flat bed trailer Daddy nearly hit that bird They’re both in the front seat Starin’ right straight ahead Neither one saying a word The sun’s going down in the rear view mirror Gonna be driving all night Wonder if the neighbor’s fed the canary Wonder if the cat’s alright Old Part of Town (Peter Case) Last night I wandered punch drunk & enraptured Out on the beltway where the business is done As I lay on the asphalt ‘neath the glow of light boxes I heard somebody say “bet I know where he’s from” When the town is so quiet you can hear the bell tower tickin’ Out on the beltway they’re sellin’ the chicken Where the tempers are short & the hours are long Darlin’, won’t you meet me in the old part of town? Old part of townYou can still hear the footsteps of the old mystery Old part of townYou can still feel the heartbeat of our whole history When the heat on the street is wearin’ you down Darlin’, won’t you meet me in the old part of town? Saw two red high heel shoes split up around midnight They said they’d meet later by the fountain at Third Four tires came screeching from different directions & picked ‘em both up ‘fore they stepped off the curb ‘Cause in the hours past midnight they stop keeping tabs The carnival quarters are vacant & sad But darlin’ I think there’s still a time to be had In the old part of town where your mom met your dad Darlin’ won’t you meet me in the old part of town? Saw a newspaper with big headlines That seemed to stare right through ya Jump off a boxcar and blow into town Pick a fight with two beer cans and a torn candy wrapper The broom sweeping up the alley swore she never heard a sound Meanwhile back on the beltway the cars are waiting in lines Stars are blocked out by the shine of the signs You might want to say “It’s a sign of the times” But darlin’ won’t you meet me in the old part of town Darlin’, won’t you meet me in the old part of town Six Year Drought I guess you had your reasons For the way you used to be Don’t why I couldn’t please you You just never had much faith in me There’s fine dust in the tire ruts now Along the old feed road They’re workin’ on a six year drought Just so you know I can pull my weightI can hold my own I can sling that blade all summer long ‘Til the thistles fall And the pasture’s clear And the work’s all done for another year I can hold my own The world was like a distant storm I could feel it on the breeze But it made so little difference here Just a whisper in the trees Mending fence for room and board Was mostly all I’d done For I was still a prisoner here In 1961 The sucker rod on the windmill creaks Now and then you hear a car There’s thunderheads across the southern sky But they won’t get this far There’s red ants by the graveyard gate They’re nearly all that moves And they carry on despite this heat I bet you’d tell me what that proves There’s fine dust in the tire ruts now The creeks no longer run But I am just a visitor here The drought won’t hurt me none Charlemagne’s Home Town I’ve got it all to myself now Crack the window just a hair Dark and close, the way I like it Black tobacco chokes the air I keep to myself, I lack the language I measure out my life with coffee grounds The trees are the color of ashes In Charlemagne’s home town I said I didn’t fear the distance As if I’d ever been that tough I can hear your voice across the water But that’s nowhere near enough Won’t you fly across that ocean Take a train on down Because the night’s growing lonesome In Charlemagne’s home town The fortune teller told me nothing That I wouldn’t have found out on my own She read my palm and she took my money She looked at me with eyes of stone She said the odds are long and stacked against us Still we try because we must To keep from leaving our senses Long forgotten in the dust Like the bones of some saint Beneath a church floor Who must have died for lack of light The color snapshots I sent you All came out in black and white There’s a lonely child on a snow white pony On a carousel in the market place He sits on that horse and he looks right through me A shadow falls across his face What will I do when my glass is empty What will I do when it all comes down What will I do when it comes to nothing In Charlemagne’s home town Pocatello Picked you up in Pocatello In some truck stop parking lot Out beside that burned up Volvo With the smoking engine shot And you just left that Volvo lying You never gave it half a thought Faithless, fine, and gone You said you came from Randolph Up across the Wasatch Range You kept talking clear to Salt Lake Liked to drove us all insane But now I’m flying down That four lane highway screaming out your name Faithless, fine, and gone Batten down the hatches I can hear my grandma say Boy you like to play with matches Gonna burn yourself someday I’m gonna haul on back to Denver Just as soon as I get through And I’m burnt down to smoldering embers But I guess I can make do And now I hear some guy that used to Manage some band I never heard of Is trying to manage you Faithless, fine, and gone Holiday The in-laws are waiting the games have begun The cell phone keeps ringing “don’t answer it hon” The whole thing’s arranged just to aggravate Dad And it’s amateur day on the old super slab The kids are strapped down like a half load of pipe All safe in their car seats they fuss and they gripe Well you can’t hardly blame ‘em it must be a bitch Counting the crosses off down in the ditch This one’s got flowers, this one’s got a wreath This one’s got a name painted down underneath Was the road all iced up, were they going too fast Here’s five in a circle left from the last holiday Holiday There’s a three-trailer rig just a throwin’ up spray Not legal to run on this kind of a day But god damn the smokies and the four wheelers too Stay offa my bumpers or the same goes for you There’ll be none for him He that wants it the most As he hauls it on out to the Oregon coast No turkey no gravy no Zinfandel wine You just stay over right and we’ll get along fine He’s missing the football, missing the fun He’d play with the grandkids but he’s off on a run And some hat’s on the radio singing his song But it don’t make a damn He’s in for a long holiday Holiday Now granny she’s yelling She’s ready to eat She’s havin’ conniptions ‘Cause they won’t take their seats But she’s got ‘em all gathered now under one roof With her camcorder loaded She’s gonna get proof But do you have to wear that Well I just don’t see why Please pass the potatoesAw eat shit and die Did you hear about Ellen, she’s leaving, you know How ‘bout those Packers, think it’ll snow? And the minute it’s over they’ll scatter like quail Off down the freeway in the teeth of a gale Silent and shattered And numb to the core They count themselves lucky They got through one more holiday Holiday The highway patrolman He stands in the rain He just lets it run down to soften the stain Of the blood on his pant leg From working that wreck And he won’t forget it In time for the next holiday Departing Chicago at 9:52 In clean desert camo all baggy and loose Sits an Iowa Guardsman alone by the gate The place sure looked different, in 1968 When he traveled with mom, first time on a plane To visit some kin, he’s forgotten their names But he remembers the soldiers, still in their teens In their spit polished boots and their pressed army greens With the creases so sharp, and their faces so smooth But their eyes looked so heavy, he wondered how they could move Now he’s got that same look, like his insides are black He’s in his mid forties and he has to go back And he can’t even smoke while he waits for his plane The uniform’s different, but the mission remains To do like they tell you, don’t make a fuss Why’s not an issue, so don’t think too much You just do what you have to, shut up and drive If you come apart later, well at least you’re alive You can get you some help, you can deal with it then And life will be better, ‘til it happens again ‘Cause there’s something inside us that won’t let us be In stalks through our days ‘til it’s too dark to see And it’s damn near as deadly as Texans on ice Lord don’t they beat all Y’all have a nice holiday