From http://www.virtualubbock.com Terry Allen Salivation I. SALIVATION T. Allen (Green Shoes Pub., BMI) T. Allen - clavinova. vocal. Lloyd Maines – electric baritone guitar. Davis McLarty - drums. Mark Rubin - upright bass. Bukka Allen - B-3 organ. From the wrong side of nothin To the right side of gone He left em all reelin With his white bucks on And headed out west Cross road to the bone With the beat of his heart And the radio on Got the fire in his blood Snake on his tongue Knows the BIG BOY's a commin Better bust em up an run SPACESHIPS AND MONKEYS EVOLUTION AND BOOZE BAR MAIDS AND PISTOLS SALIVATION AND FOOLS HIGHWAYS AND TENT SHOWS CITIES AND TOWNS . LOVE'S JUST A CRAPSHOOT LAY YOUR MONEY DOWN YEAH EVERYTHING'S OVER LIKE IT ALL JUST BEGUN THAT BIG BOY'S A COMMIN BETTER BUST EM UP AN RUN Yeah slick-backed his hair Dry cleaned his robes Delivered his predictions Like the prophets of old How the blood of the lamb From the sheep from the fold Rise up in a flood An wash away your souls And the Devil's just grinnin At the thought of the fun Of that BIG BOY a commin Better bust em up an run REAL ESTATE AND JUNKIES CANCERS AND ART HOMOS AND HETROS TOGETHER AND APART COMPUTERS AND SKINHEADS LIFE AFTER DEATH HOLD ON TO THE GOOD BOOK BUT DON'T HOLD YOUR BREATH YEAH IT'S ALREADY OVER THE END JUST BEGUN AH THE BIG BOY'S A COMMIN BETTER BUST EM UP AN RUN With his head in the city And his heart out of town He preached on the corners Of it all commin down Grab hold to your children Gather your pets He been here before But you ain’t seen nothin yet Gonna light up your world Let her burn til she done Yeah BIG BOYs a commin Better bust cm up an run Said ABORTION AND SPORTS NEW AGE AND THE NEWS PORNO AND CHILDCARE ARABS AND JEWS MURDER AND WEATHER HUSBANDS ANDWIVES MIGHT BE THE LAST DAY OF THE REST OF YOUR LIVES AH THE DICE ARE ROLLIN AND THAT TRAIN'S COMMIN ON YEAH THE BIG BOYS A COMMIN BETTER BUST EM UP AN RUN meanwhile, Duck talking to the sky. Hello Daddy Hello Momma Hello old friends Angels of the mystery Flying out flying in There ain't no way That's the way it goes And heaven is just an adjustment That moves on down the road II. THE DOLL T Allen/Lloyd Maines (Green Shoes Pub., BMI/Art Mob, BMI) T. Allen - clavinova, small djembi, vocal Lloyd Maines - acoustic guitar, dumcek, tamborine. Richard Bowden - fiddle, cello. Davis McLarty - large djembi. Glen Fukunaga - bowed upright bass. Ben Saffer metal and bass clarinet. Charlie Sexton - bazouki, cumbus (Jello bowl). Bukka Allen - harmonium. From the east side of Chicago To the down side of L.A. There's no place that he goes We don't bow down to him and pray Yeah we follow him to the slaughter We go through the fire and ash Cause he's the doll inside our dollars Our Lord and Savior Jesus Cash Chorus: AH WE BLOW HIM UP INFLATED AND WE LET HIM DOWN DEPRESSED WE PLAY WITH HIM FOREVER HE'S OUR DOLL AND WE LOVE HIM BEST From the stress of New York City To the death cults of D.C. There's nothing quite so pretty As what he offers to you and me So we kneel down at the altar Of the Church of the Bought and Sold And pray the doll he does not falter And makes us rich before we get old Chorus repeats From the side streets of New Orleans To the dead beats by the bay The chat rooms are all a’buzzin With our wishes for the day And the money changers come howlin Through the temple of our needs While the doll is out there prowlin And holds the notes on all our dreams chorus repeats III. BILLY THE BOY (‘PEDAL STEEL’ MEDLEY) T Allen (Green Shoes Pub., BMI) T Allen - clavinova, vocal Lloyd Maines - pedal steel and acoustic guitar. Richard Bowden - mandolin. Davis McLarty – drums. Bukka Allen - accordion Snow White Angel On the wings Of a snow white angel He played steel guitar And the drugs Broke his brain Off into angles But his fingers Played true to his heart Billy (I) Ah Billy You got diamond Sparkle blue eyes tonight Yeah Billy You got the pistol In your soul And the mariachi music Makes you crazy all ' right Hey down at Rose's Santa Rosa New Mexico Ft. Sumner He was born in New York City On a cold and a windy day Yeah his Momma didn't love him Cause she throwed him away On the doorsteps of this woman Who took in wash to make her way And she raised him with a vengeance So he left her the same damn way Well this hobo named him Billy On a train to the level land He said Boy you can make it easy With a shovel in your hand If you can just get to Lincoln County Dig for gold in the Indian land He said Hobo I'm a loner I'll take my gold with an outlaw band And they heard thunder In Ft. Sumner New Mexico And they heard thunder In Ft. Sumner New Mexico Loneliness Hey loneliness You say it's doing you in Ah but you still got Some playing to do And that won't end Billy But you been missing What you been kissing For years You just can't recognize A sacred heart When she bleeds for you Billy You just keep on playing Like New Mexico Is the whole God damned world And you got the floor Billy Yeah but loneliness You say it's doing you in Ah but you still got Some playing to do And that won’t end Billy Lonely Road He played steel guitar In a rock n roll bar And he'd run to his car Beneath the stars Yeah it's New Mexico Wherever you are When your 31 On the running Yeah you might wonder But you'll never know That mystery boy With them sleazy clothes His flashing smile His lightning hands He gonna take what he wants On the Pecos Grande In the Promised Land Yeah Billy the Boy He felt the pistol joy Shakin his hands On the Mountain Yeah he did what he did Then he run and he hid His blood bubbled up In the fountains Blood bubbled up In the fountains Yeah whiskey flows And the peyote grows Through a thousand night times A thousand shows And the desert burns But a cold wind blows On a lonely road New Mexico Billy (II) Ah Billy You got dimes In your blue eyes tonight Yeah Billy You got the lead In your soul And you're bleedin to death Beneath the dance hall lights Ah Billy Where did your blue eyes go? IV. SOUTHERN COMFORT T. Allen (Green shoes Pub., BMI) T. Allen -piano, clavinova, vocal. Lloyd Maines - Papoose, slide guitar. Davis McLarty - drums. Mark Rubin - tuba. Bukka Allen - B-3 organ. When Jesus saves the world Where will you be? Out on the lonesome plains o Texas Or the shores of the Galilee When Jesus Saves the World Which he will surely do It don't matter where you are He's gonna bring his wrath on you Ah-um Mississippi Ah-um Alabama Ah-um Louisiana Ah-um Nashville Tennessee When Jesus Saves the world And tallies up the toll For ever one he sends to Glory Be a billion burn below When Jesus Saves the world He'll be looking right straight at you An ever sin you ever did Gonna stick out clear and true Ah-um Carolinas Ah-um Atlanta Georgia Ah-um Miami Florida Ah-um New Orleans When Jesus Saves the world You're either on or off the track There ain't no reincarnation You won't be commin back When Jesus Saves the world Your loved ones will be gone You'll have to face his awful judgment Stark naked all alone Ah-um Oh Virginia Ah-um Oklahoma Ah-um Arkansas Ah-um Abilene When Jesus Saves the world All time will stop with sin And nothin will be mysterious It'll all just be The End When Jesus Saves the world He will kill it too And the righteous will rise to Glory What a comfort to me and you Ah-um V. RIO TICINO (FOR CARLO & PAOLA) T. Allen (Green Shoes Pub., BMI) T. Allen - clavinova, vocal. Lloyd Maines - dobro. Richard Bowden - mandolin. Davis McLarty – drums Bukka Allen - accordion. Out on the banks Of the Rio Ticino Standing in front of The 3 Kings Hotel Looking out At the town of Castelletto Wondering about What Happened Over There Steam like smoke Is out on the water Rise'n up white Like fingers in the air And birds flock on boats That float on the water And you wonder about What Happened Over There On the opposite banks Of the Rio Ticino Standing in front of The wall where they fell During a war We all seem to like now And you wonder about What Happened Over Here Steam like smoke Is out on the water Rise'n up white Like ghosts in the air And birds flock on boats That float on the water And you wonder about What Happens Anywhere VI. RED LEG BOY (TO SLED ALLEN 1886-1959, MY DAD) T. Allen (Green Shoes Pub., BMI) T. Allen -piano, vocal. Lloyd Maines - mandolin, triangle. Richard Bowden –fiddle. Davis McLarty - drums. Glen Fukanaga - upright bass Bukka Allen - accordion, vocal. Bale Allen - vocal Sled HarveyAllen – introduction Chorus: Missouri born Red leg boy He just born Yeah to playin the ball Ain't much good For much else at all He just born Yeah to playin the ball Run from home He couldn't wait To hold his ground Hey behind the plate Hit the ball You're on your own Same damn thing You tryin to get back home Chorus Lived his life Movin around Playin the ball Hey from town to town Saw everything He wanted to see Weren't nothin else That he wanted to be Chorus Got too old To play the ball Settled down But remembered it all Lived it out Until he died Cussin the Yankees Ah Satisfied Chorus VII. CORTEZ SAIL T. Allen (Green Shoes Pub., BMI) T Allen -piano, vocal. Lloyd Maines – acoustic guitar. Richard Bowden -fiddle, mandolin. Davis McLarty - drums. Bukka Allen - accordion, B-3 organ. See how the rain Falls from the sky Drifting down From your high mountain's eye But don't look surprised You're going home Yeah you're leaving L.A. On a cloudy day Pushing the crowd away You gonna get away today An you turn on your radio An let the wind blow With your rock n roll Down the highway All the way Ah but see how, the lightning Makes cracks in your air Tearing the clouds Then closing the tear Yeah but you're not surprised Anymore You're going home To Mexico Four hundred years ago Down in Mexico The Spanish galleons drew near And the Aztec warriors watched From their mountain sides Yeah the fear in their eyes As clear as their end it was near Yeah Cortez he come With his men and his guns And a Spanish Christ Alive on his lip But as soon as he touched ground Well his men wanted to turn around So he burned down the turn around ships Yeah he crossed all that water With his cannon and fodder If need be to slaughter For Gods and for gold An he wouldn't let no man Talk him in to being anything other than Conquistador bold Yeah Pachuco to Paradise Yeah a Colorado rain Falls on your California glass Washing away the hardline From your California past Ah but you're not surprised anymore You're going home Cause just out of Cortez Well the radio man says That they's a lookin for you They gonna get you But your guns on your map And they're both in your lap Besides your Chic's with you So you gonna get through Ah but see how the lightning Makes cracks in your air Tearing the clouds Then closin the tear Yeah but you're not surprised anymore You're going home To Paradise VIII. X-MAS ON THE ISTHMUS T Allen/Guy Clark (Green Shoes Pub., BMI/EMI April, ASCAP) Los Dos Rockin Tacos - vocals. T Allen - clavinova, harmonium. Lloyd Maines -papoose, tamborine. Richard Bowden - mandolin. Davis McLarty - drums. Mark Rubin - tuba. Guy Clark - acoustic guitar. It's X-mas on the Isthmus of Panama We're listless this Christmas No Santa Claus No wise men, no angels No mistletoe trucks No reindeer, no shepherds We're shit out of luck Ah we hung all our stockings On the palm trees with care Stayed up all night Still nothin there So we snorted some incense And shot up some myrrh Stayed up two more days Just to make sure Ah it's X-mas on the Isthmus of Panama It's hopeless, we're dopeless No Santa Claus No wise men, no angels No mistletoe trucks No reindeer, no shepherds We're shit out of luck Bethlehem...Bethle-her ... Bethle-you Bethle-me ... Mucho Ah there’s something about X-mas That brings me to tears Snowmen an chestnuts An roastin reindeers That story from the Bible God's only son The immaculate injection Ah you know the one Well they wadn't from around here They was Judean strangers So they called up the front desk "Let me speak to the Manger" There was horses, there was cows There was sheep, there was pigs Mary asked Joseph "Hey who booked this gig?" Ah it's X-mas on the Isthmus of Panama We're shiftless, we’re giftless No Santa Claus No wise men, no angels No mistletoe trucks No reindeer, no shepherds We're shit out of luck Bethlehem...Bethle-her ... Bethle-you Bethle-me ... Mucho IX. AIN’T NO TOP 40 SONG T Allen (Green Shoes Pub., BMI) T Allen -piano, vocal. Lloyd Maines – slide guitra. Richard Bowden - cello, trumpet. Davis McLarty – drums Glen Fukunaga – bass. Ian Moore - electric guitar. Charlie Sexton - B-bender guitar. Bukka Allen B-3 organ. Marcia Ball - harmony vocal I. Well they found her dead Face down in a ditch And they chased and caught That son of a bitch Ain't no top 40 song They put him on trial He killed her with a wrench Sentenced him to die But he didn't flinch Ain't no top 40 song His lawyer tried But he'd never tell Said he'd rather die Go sing in Hell Ain't no top 40 song It's blood on the car seats Holes in the wall Wild horse screamin Kickin slats from the stall Headlights burnin Right out of his head When the world's on fire And love is dead Ain't no top 40 song Judge said son Now you gotta pay For what you done You got anything to say? Ain't no top 40 song Just looked at the judge An then he smiled Her family raged His family cried Ain't no top song Said ain't nothin to me I'm glad she's dead An you'd be too If you knew what she did Ain't no top 40 song chorus II Well they found him dead Face down on the floor And they chased and caught That crazy little whore Ain't no top 40 song They put her on trial She killed him with a knife Cut out his heart They sentenced her to life Ain't no top 40 song Her lawyer tried But she'd never tell An she never cried Just sing in her cell Ain't no top 40 song It's blood on the car seats Holes in the wall Wild horse screamin Kickin slats from the stall Headlights burnin Right out of her head When the world's on fire And love is dead Ain't no top 40 song Judge said girl Now you gotta pay For what you done You got anything to say? Ain't no top 40 song Just looked at the Judge An then she grinned I done it once An I'd do it again Ain't no top 40 song Ain't nothin to me I'm glad he's dead An you'd be too If you knew what he did Ain't no top 40 song chorus X. THE SHOW T. Allen (Green Shoes Pub., BMI) T Allen - clavinova, vocal. Lloyd Maines - slide guitar. Richard Bowden - cello. Davis McLarty - drums. Glen Fukunaga - upright bass. Ian Moore - electric guitars. Jo Harvey Allen - sermonette. Standing in the spotlight Listening to the crowd Screaming for his insides Wantin him to let it out But can they handle what they want? Can they handle what they get? There's a creature coiled inside Been wantin out 3 hundred thousand years Hits one lick on his guitar Holds it to the ground Tryin to kill every livin thing A hundred miles around Your Momma warned you about this Your Daddy bought a gun But there is no turning back Once the show has begun 1. And there's Jesus the promoter Standing in the wings Waiting on some cocaine An twidlin with his rings He's got a black gospel hairdo Haloed in the light Like he could walk on water If his shoes just weren't so tight 2. And Magdalina the groupie Just OD'd on the bus But she seems kind of stupid So Hey what's all the fuss? But someone called the police Now they're out drivin her around Trying to cop up some feels Before they take her downtown 3. And soundman Izzy Judas Squats way up in the booth Smokin ganja like some Buddha In his quest for the truth And all their is is highs Izzy's fingers on the board Got his 30 piece of silver Throws a kiss out to the Lord Ah standing in the spotlight Listening to the crowd Hits one lick on his guitar Holds it to the ground Tryin to kill every livin thing A hundred miles around Your Momma warned you about this Your Daddy bought a gun There is no turning back Cause the show must go on XI. GIVE ME THE FLOWERS Elvin Bigger, Louise Certain, G1adys Stacey Flatt (Cedarwood Publishing, BMI) © 1957 (Copyright renewed) Cedarwood Publishing International Copyright Secured All Rights reserved. Used by permission. T Allen -piano, vocal. Lloyd Maines - dobro, harmony vocal. Richard Bowden - mandolin, Harmony vocal. Davis McLarty - drums. Glen Fukunaga - upright bass. Bukka Allen - accordion. In this world today Where we're living Some folks say The worst of us they can But when we are dead And in our caskets They always slip some lilies In our hands Will you give me my flowers While I'm livin And let me enjoy them While I can Don't wait til I’m ready To be buried And then slip some lilies In my hand In this world is Where we need our flowers And a kind word to help us Get along So if you can't give me flowers While I'm livin Then please don't throw them When I'm gone copyright 2000 Chris Oglesby D/B/A "Good Cheap Art" All rights reserved virtualubbock@netscape.net