1. |
Man of Conviction
03:48
|
|||
|
I was a man of conviction back in my boyhood days
When the stories my father told me were true as could be
Now I walk on the cigarette sidewalk
And I drive in the spirit soaked street
Oh I was a man of conviction too early
It’s been ages and ages, honey
And the ages are rolling on
Since I looked in the eyes of a person and told them my dreams
Now my memories are password protected
My old tee shirts are quilt squares, I can’t fit in my old jeans
Oh I was a man of conviction at seventeen
I was a man of conviction if I ever was a man
Though I seem to remember some crying and wallowing child
Now I’m older with less of a purpose
Than the fool who was daring and wild
If I was a man of conviction, it’s been a while
I was a man of conviction when the future was just a game
When conviction meant swearing, I want it, I promise to be
To be noble and sober and honest
And to sweep the world off of its feet
When I was a man of conviction it was easy
I was a man of conviction
Who I am now, I don’t know
Though I’ve known enough misers, those faded and sullen and weak
Now it’s time to rekindle the yearning
Of the man I used to be
Yes I’ll be a man of conviction, honey, next we meet
|
||||
2. |
How Not to Give a Damn
04:20
|
|||
|
I forget to go outside when I’m not told
I forget that I was raised inside the cold
I forgot that I was young and now I’m 24 years old
And I am trying not to give a damn
I forgot how to achieve without some proof
I’ve been taught a hundred different kinds of truth
I’ve been away from home so long I am a telephone booth
And I am trying not to give a damn
But let me explain
Before the hard rain comes down
This alienation had a price, and I’m dealing contraband
It’s bottles of pain
And hearing the talk around the town
I’m learning the magic of how not to give a damn
I am lying to the woman that I love
I’m hiding doubts that I may never overcome
And if they linger for too long inside my smokey lungs
Then I may die trying not to give a damn
And if I should die
Am I a martyr or a fly?
It’s either glory or it’s dust here in the promised land
So I look to the sky
Yeah I look the apple of my eye
To show me the magic of how not to give a damn
You know it’s hard to make a living off your name
And now I lost all of my pride inside the game
I never used to struggle much to find anything to say
Are people silent when they just don’t give a damn?
...No
I’m learning the magic of how not to give a damn
|
||||
3. |
Tattoo
03:54
|
|||
|
(Chorus)
Maybe I oughta get a tattoo
Maybe I oughta get a friend who
Can be on my shoulder whispering in my ear
Tell me not to go speak without thinking
And boy, this ain’t a time to be drinking
Yeah maybe I oughta get a tattoo this year
Well I ain’t no stranger to resolution
You can call me captain of the caveat
Oh and I’m ashamed I’m a little late to the revolution
I want a motto on my back before I miss another shot
Chorus
I’ve been down that long dark path of sorrow
I bury my guilt inside a closet of doubt
And if I should meet my angel, well I pray it’s not tomorrow
Cause baby no one wants to know you when you’re down and out
Chorus
|
||||
4. |
Mexico City
04:24
|
|||
|
(Chorus)
I’ve never been down to Mexico City
Never jumped a train
Told a couple married women they’re pretty, but it’s not the same
I left my home like a rolling stone, but I’m ready for another change
Better get down to Mexico City
Learn my Spanish name
I’m a righteous hearted man
A lover and a friend
I don’t know much about making good money, but I sure know how to spend
I’ve been to mountains, I’ve been to midwest towns
I’ve been to beaches of white sand
And I’m starting to think this highway is my favorite kind of land
Chorus
My grandma’s from Cleveland
And my granddad too
But these days it’s looking like Chicago is the best anyone can do
Yeah I could work, I could meet a girl out there
I could listen to the blues
I could go to bed feeling 27 and wake up 32.
Chorus
|
||||
5. |
Pillowcase Blues
02:16
|
|||
|
Now mama won’t you fetch me a pillow?
Lord knows I ain’t even tired
Yeah, but I better rest my head on something
You know that woman got me falling too damn hard
She kissed me in the kitchen
In the middle of the night
Tasted like home cookin’ alright
You know I never begged the question
But I asked it with my eyes
She said, I know what you’re thinking
This is love in disguise
And I said mama won’t you fetch me a pillow?
Lord knows I ain’t even tired
Yeah, but I better rest my head on something
You know that woman got me falling too damn hard
Oh oh oh, thought it sounded nice coming home again
But no, no, no, never shoulda left the road
Oh oh oh, thought it sounded real nice coming home again
But I never should’ve left that road
And I said mama won’t you fetch me a pillow?
Lord knows I ain’t even tired
Yeah, but I better rest my head on something
You know that woman got me falling too damn hard
|
||||
6. |
Be That Man
04:11
|
|||
|
Riding into town, riding like we ain’t afraid of nothin
Me and Jim we got a pocket full of money cause we play in the band
And all the ladies on the street have a laugh
They know we’re only 22 yeah
But hell if me and Jim here could give a damn
Well we walked into this joint had the lights all shining on Main Street
Showed ‘em some identification cause he finally can
And who should we meet after just one drink out on the patio
But the owner of the bar with a Cuban cigar and a Black & Tan
(Chorus)
I wanna be that man, I wanna be that man
Arm around a woman, glass in his hand
I wanna be that man, lord I wanna be that man x2
He said, How ya doin, fellas? How’s that rye whiskey treating you now?
I said, Sir, I couldn’t think of one way to have a better time
He said, Woah there boy, don’t you go and say nothin’ so drastic
Just have a seat and let me treat you like a couple good friends of mine
Chorus
He started pouring those drinks, you know like we ain’t never tasted
Said he was buddies with one Chuck Bukowski back in ‘89
They had a mutual affection for fine women, drinking, and horses
They won a whole lotta money on a nag comin’ down the line
Chorus
|
||||
7. |
Fog Water
03:26
|
|||
|
Oh fog water, when you lettin’ out into that clear brown bottom river?
For I’ve been floatin’ for too damn long through this lonesome cloud
I ain’t askin’ for no fast movin’ open road, just a smooth old passage into Ohio
Just take me down the crooked Cuyahoga to the only home I know
Oh fog water, won’t you lead me down into the clear brown bottom river
For I done drank up all the whiskey on this lonesome boat
See I been runnin’ from a woman up in New York City, she don’t like the song I wrote
And lord knows she ain’t the only one, oh she ain’t the only one I know
Oh fog water, won’t you lead me down and wash me in a cleaner river?
Cause I just finished up a cheap cigar and I smell of too much smoke
You know I still must please my father and mother, I swear to you it ain’t no joke
For if I should lose them and my sister and my brother, you know I’d be all alone
Now oh fog water, when you lettin’ out into that clear brown bottom river?
For I’ve been floating for too damn long through your lonesome cloud
I know I’ve made a few people quite angry
Oh lord knows I have done wrong
But won’t you take me down the crooked Cuyahoga to the place where I belong?
Oh won’t you take me down the crooked Cuyahoga to the place where I belong?
|
||||
8. |
The Imitator
04:03
|
|||
|
He’s got leather boots and a cowboy hat
Big Pink House and a Caddilac
Shows up to work all dressed in black
Slingin’ a Martin guitar
Still out looking for Maria
Says he’ll know her when he sees her
Tonight he’s singing crowd-pleasers
In the corner of the bar
That’s the one they call the Imitator
You let your conscience be the indicator
Cause deep down you know the greatest entertainers are dead
So you do yourself a favor, call the Imitator instead
Out here in the valley
You rumble through the alley
You got a friend, he’s a real pal
He can fix your car for free
And at the end of a long day of buffin’ out scuffs
Couple bottles of beer and a couple puffs
Ain’t no use in calling a man’s bluff
If he does a damn good Bobby McGhee
That’s when you call upon the Imitator
You let your conscience be the indicator
Cause deep down you know the greatest entertainers are dead
So you do yourself a favor, call the Imitator instead
It’ alright, it’s alright
Some people run from the spotlight
It’s alright, it’s alright
Some folks still fighting the good fight
Blasting old records at midnight
Strumming through their hits like it’s the Isle of Wight
Callin’ it quits cause it just don’t sound right
Ain’t that the story of the Imitator?
You let your conscience be the indicator
Cause deep down you know the greatest entertainers are dead
So you do yourself a favor, call the Imitator instead
|
||||
If you like Brett Fromson, you may also like:
Forever Only Idaho
by Harrison Lemke
Big, strummy songs that recall the heart-on-sleeve earnestness and lo-fi glory of early Mountain Goats.
go to album
Postcards From the Country
by Trae Sheehan
West Virginia country-folk singer-songwriter Trae Sheehan aims to find a balance between the traditional and the modern on his new LP.
go to album
Thumbs Up Angel
by Mink's Miracle Medicine
The first single from Mink's Miracle Medicine forthcoming LP is a shimmery work of melancholy modern country.
go to album
Pittsburgh artist Merce Lemon makes tender and open-hearted indie pop with echoes of Frankie Cosmos.
go to album
Sweet and honest bedroom pop made with the sparest of instrumentation and topped with poetically melancholy lyrics.
go to album
The Toronto-based sextet make moody, cinematic sounding music that blends psych-folk and post-rock.
go to album
Little Green
by Cara Beth Satalino
Cara Beth Satalino's delicately melodic yet resilient indie folk songs sparkle with lyrical wit and hard-won wisdom.
go to album
