The Nationals:
Natty Moss-Bond - vocals
Walt Bucklin - bass, guitar,
vocals
Steve Connelly - guitar,
mandolin, bass, pedal steel
Harry Hayward - drums, guitar,
clarinet, vocals
Ted Lucas - vocals
Liza Wakeman - violin
Nina Wegman - accordian
Ronny Elliott - vocals,
guitar, mandolin, bass
Produced by Walt Bucklin, Steve Connelly & Ronny Elliott
It's also the title of Ronny's new CD on Blue Heart Records. With a release date of 1/1/00, the release marks the beginning of Ronny's thirty-seventh year, his fifth decade and his second century in rock'n'roll!
With able backing, as usual, from his eccentric band, the Nationals, the new record is a further twist down a familiar path of tall tales and autobiographical bull!
This one's not likely to threaten Garth's chart position or move Shania off the cover of PEOPLE, but it seems to be pretty much what he has in mind. As another hillbilly was once quoted, "I don't sound like nobody, sir!"
Blue Heart Records
179 Baltic Circle
Tampa, Florida 33606
They Don't Rob The Trains Any More
He rode into town two or
three times a year.
He'd kill a cowboy or two,
then he'd go home.
The sheriff of Silver City
didn't think of him as much of an outlaw.
The town folks cleared a
path for crazy, old Jerome.
And that old pistol that
had belonged to his pop was big and it was rusty.
Jersey looked more Iike
a mule than a stallion on any given day.
Voices in his head told
Jerome that he was a bad man.
He thought of Jesse James
and tried to live his life
that way.
(chorus)
They don't rob the trains
any more.
They don't rob the trains
any more.
It's a new century in New
Mexico
and they don't rob the trains
any more.
Living alone gives time and
rhyme to ghosts of the heart.
In a stream of stars old
Jerome lay his plans of crime.
He wondered if Jesus thought
of him as a killer or just a bandit
living here in the wrong
time.
His sister, Louise, had
tried to teach him good morals and manners
after his ma had left them
for a full moon downtown.
He broke her neck and buried
her out behind the outhouse
after he dressed her up
in an indian wedding gown.
South By So What
We flew half way cross the
country to shake and to rattle
and I was ready to roll
when we got to Liberty Lunch.
Trying to be hip for the
press was more than half of the battIe.
Those jerks from No Depression
are an arrogant bunch.
It's south by so what in
the city of Austin.
I've never been to Texas
and I said so.
It's forty minutes on stage
and back to the hotel.
Somebody tell Sir Doug I
said hello.
Bought a little Mexican skeleton
marionette somewhere downtown
and spent hours trying to
teach him to dance at the Holiday Inn.
Stayed at the hotel bar
too long for a 7-Up and Crown
and missed all the parties
and the cool acts again.
It's south by so what in
the city of Austin.
I ranted and raved and fell
to my knees for the show.
That Texas crowd seemed
really warm and friendly.
Somebody tell Sir Doug I
said hello.
All I new about the
state I had learned from my grandmother.
"Texas, it even sounds country,"
is what she always said.
I can't tell one record
company executive from another,
but before I kiss your ass
I'd rather he dead.
It's south by so what in
the city of Austin.
We had a lot of fun and
I really did hate to go.
I'm not sure we made much
of an impression.
Somebody tell Sir Doug I
said hello.
Yeah, it's south by so what
in the city of Austin, Texas.
I'll never be famous, Darrell
Anderson told me so.
I'll make more of these
records and I'll try to sell them.
Somebody tell Sir Doug I
said hello.
My Nerves Are Bad Tonight
Harry's gonna have to eat
his words, the girl was a
Midnighter. I've seen pictures
of her in a tight skin up
on the stage.
It's gin and sin and reciprocal
motion in the backfield
left over from the days
when romance was all the rage.
In a shok to the system
Little Ricky grew up to be a
beatnik. All the sirens
in the Hollywood hills remember
the day when the artists
and the angels and the models
danced the mambo and they
lead the handcuffed
arnachist away.
(chorus)
"My nerves are bad tonight,"
I heard the poet sing.
"I'm rhyming verbs and trying
to learn how to swing."
We had a dream all the karma
in the world could be
bought with Budha's money.
All the laptop, flip flop girl
groups sang the song of
the gay caballero and his lovely
lesbian countespart and
the ventrilliquist's red-headed
daughter who could do no
wrong.
I've got a fire in my mind
and I really can't be confined
here. There's a bomb in
a boat anchored on the edge of
Havana Bay. I've got the
red China blues and maybe a
touch of vertigo and a life
up to it's neck in disarray.
With the wheel of time mired
in the muddle of ecstasy
and the quest for glory
not leaving room enough, it's
sticks and stones and seeds
and bones and Blue Caps.
That's the price you pay
for playing a game too rough.
She Sold The Silver
Heartbreak finds fools wherever
they're hid and I don't run from romance.
I never did. I've spent
my share of time and money chasing love.
Until my heart's been broken,
it's never enough.
(chorus)
She sold the silver. She
sold the silver. She sold the silver and it finally cost me my soul.
It's a classic story of two
fooIs in love. Breaking hearts like beer bottle glass when push
comes to shove. There's
a price to be paid for going where you shouldn't go, and I'm
taught my lesson again about
reaping what you sew.
Some people play to win,
some don't see it that way. I seem to play to lose. you break it
you pay.
They say passion makes a
fool out of you. It's not a game you'll win.
I play rougher than most
and I'm losing it again. I've done my time crawling on my
knees. Choking passion out
of love once more, watching hearts break and freeze.
How Many Stars
I'm waiting on Mercury, I'm
living on lead, aces and eights fill my dreams.
From the shadows of dark
places and a hunt in my heart, nothing's quite as badl as it seems.
Horses with short noses
and cards that were good, but never quite good enough.
I've lied with the best
when put to the test, but I never could learn how to bluff
(chorus)
How many stars in the sky?
How many stars in the sky?
All I really want to know...how
many stars in the sky?
Masterpieces from the East
and the West and a '54 Esquire out of tune.
News from the border, the
phone's out of order with songs from a Tex Avery cartoon.
I woke up dreaming that
Knocky was back and he was burning up the key board.
He was stinking of gin,
looking crazy again. He played in waltz time and pretty music flowed.
Counting stars, closing
bars, I do what I can for the soul.
All the rage on the wrong
side of the water, working for Hooch close to home.
Burning both ends, counting
on friends, I'm not walking on water alone.
The Doors Of Havana
Adios Havana. ola USA. Muchos
gracias for your hospitality, but I didn't come here to stay.
I Iove your people and your
countryside. I love your music and your rum.
If they had told me of your
pain and misery, I never would have come.
(chorus)
I feel bad for the Cuban
people without enough to get by,
but it's the dogs in Havana,
that make me want to cry.
I'm not a member of high
society. I'm not part of the ruling class,
But Fidel is a hypocrite
and Strom Thurmond can kiss my ass.
I know your kids could use
some medicine.
I see your buildings' peeling
paint.
I condemn this damned embargo
and the cold war's patron saint.
Here's to your dreams and
fantasies. Here's to your memories of Che.
I raise a toast to your
day of freedom and your joy of yesterday.
Let your mountains and your
beaches shine with happiness once more.
Let the people of our countries
live in peace forevermore.
Tahitian Inn
I must have smoked a millon
cigarettes last night in that hotel, one for every time I thought of you.
Thinking about where we've
been and how did we get here, fighting the urge to call and fighting off
the tears.
(chorus)
You know I Iove you, darling,
and I always will. If you're hungry for love, just send me the biII.
Thought I'd get my fortune
read by that gypsy down the highway, but I didn't have the nerve to ring
the bell.
So I went back to my room
and locked myself away. Watched tv and tried to break your spell.
When the sun comes up tomorrow.
I'll open op the door. I'll come back and try this all again.
Same Three Chords
When I was just a kid in
Birmingham and Uncle Murray turned on the radio
Hank Williams' music was
the only thing they played.
I found WLAC and late at
night Muddy Waters would sing to me
And those same three chords
still ring in my heart today.
It's the samc three chords
and the joy they bring,
It's not black or white,
that doesn't mean a thing.
It's the hillbilly music
and the blues they play,
It's the same three chords
I'm playing today.
Then I found Elvis and it
changed my life
and I saw Bo Diddley at
the armory.
I talked my mother into
buying my first electric guitar.
I sat alone in my room at
night and tried to make the damned thing sound alright.
I thought those three chords
were gonna make me a star.
Then the Beatles turned my
head around
and Ike and Tina Turner
set my soul on fire.
I promised myself a life
as a music man.
I played the blues, at least
I thought I did,
but John R. wasn't gonna
spin any hillbilly kid.
It's back to those same three
chords in a rock'n roII band.
It's the same three chords
and the joy they bring,
It's not black or white
that doesn't mean a thing.
It's the rockabilly music
the rhythm n' blues they play,
It's the same three chords
I m playing today.
Talking To The Man In The Moon
I'm talking to myself 'cause
I can't talk to you.
I'm getting funny looks
from people I see.
I know this feeling is nothing
new,
but it's sure got a headlock
on me.
When you look at me,
I really feel my confidence
slipping away.
I can't tell anyone I'm
working on a deal.
If anybody heard me they'd
say
(chorus)
I'm sitting here crazy as
a loon.
I'm talking to the man in
the moon.
My big old friend hasn't
been much help to me,
But then again, he sure
has listened patiently.
When I that the nerve to
tell you how I feel,
to tell you what I'm dreaming
One look in my eyes will
tell you that it's real.
Just ask my friend up above.
Hotel Room In Jacksonville
Just rolled into town today,
I'm lonesome, tired and hot,
I'd like to get a bite to
eat and a couple of drinks, but 4 bucks is all I've got.
I'm playing a bar somewhere
downtown, doing 5 long sets.
I've got a new set of strings,
a couple of new songs and very few regrets.
(chorus)
Hotel room in Jacksonville,
just like any other town
Hotel room in Jacksonville,
sure gonna get me down
I'm leaving here for Birmingham,
from there to New Orleans.
It's a long ride back home
again for some of mama's good turnip greens.
I pawned my spare in Spartanburg,
my license plate's expired.
I'd check out of here and
make Atlanta by dawn but I'm too damned tired.
Best I can do
I'm not the kind of guy to
make you worry. I'm not the kind of guy that's gonna drag you down.
I'm just the kind of guy
that feels pretty lucky whenever you drop around.
I'm not the kind of guy
that's born a hero. I'm not the kind who ever looks real sharp.
I'm just the kind of guy
who knows when he's missing just a little piece of his heart.
(chorus)
I, I, well I'm sure some
day there's more that I might do.
I, I, now I'm loving you
and that's the best that I can do.
I'm not the kind of guy that
your girl friends fall for.
I'm not the kind they'd
love to steal away.
I'm just the kind of guy
who tends to hold onto every little thing that you say.
I'm not the kind of guy
that lives life easy.
I'm not the kind that always
fits your plans.
I'm just the kind of guy
who needs some reminders, baby I'm just your man.
Heroes
The poor want gold and the
rich want heaven.
The rest of us are looking
for a little peace of mind.
The words passed down always
sound familiar.
Be nice and work for peace
for all mankind.
I believe in Jesus. I believe
in Elvis. I believe in Mother Teresa.
I believe in James Dean.
I believe in Budha. Believe in Amelia Earhart.
I believe in Martin Luther
King, Jr. and all the good guys in between.
For everything we do without
love in our heart
and for all the hurt the
world's ever known.
Mark the calendar today
for a new start.
We'll fight the fight once
we've been shown.
I believe in Gandhi, St,
Francis of Assissi, theVirgin Mary,
Eleanor Roosevelt, Frida
Kahlo, Confucius, Mary Magdalene,
Kaptain Kangaroo, Hank Williams,
Captain Paul Watson,
Anwar Sadat, Jane Goodall,
Jimmy Carter,
Josephine Baker,
The Virgin Mary, Johnny
Cash, Rumi, Albert Einstein, Grandma,
Mohammed, JFK, Clairabel,
John Lennon, Joan of Arc,
Vincent Van Gogh, Alan Watts,
Bill Haley, Buckminster Fuller;
Henry Miller; Lillian HeIlman
& Marvelous Marvin.