1. |
Solitary Serenade
03:56
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If I made myself a postcard, if I made myself a rhyme
if I made myself a story, would you finish it in time?
If the postcard had an ending, would the story end the line?
Would the rhyme wish you were somewhere, would your name mean it ain't mine?
If I made myself a street sign, would it change your point of view?
'Round here ain't nothing like the east side, I got lost a time or two
But I flagged down a man by a roadside stand who said my turn was coming soon
and as I rolled back up my window, I swear I heard him hum my tune
And there's a girl called Carolina that I"m coming home to see
She'll be waiting upstairs in that white wicker chair staring off into the street
And I don't know when I'll be home again but it's my home just the same
So what you're hearing now is my solitary serenade
If I made myself a bluebird I would watch you from above
Sounds drown out my singing now, but I'm singing out my love
And there's a sweetness to my sorrow, but it hasn't quite sunk in
I'll be gone before tomorrow, just a postcard on the wind
And there's a girl called Carolina that I"m coming home to see
She'll be waiting upstairs in that white wicker chair staring off into the street
And I don't know when I'll be home again but it's my home just the same
So what you're hearing now is my solitary serenade
So what you're hearing now is my solitary serenade
So what you're hearing now is my solitary serenade
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2. |
Caleb
04:59
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Caleb was an only son
His mom and dad were 21
Themselves just learning to survive
He left home when they were 35
They did their best but it was true
They had no clue what to do
10 years on just getting by
Each night they pray their boy is still alive
One day before the sun came up
In her pajamas with her coffee cup
Legs once sturdy now they're frail
Mom went out to check the mail
Between some bills and magazines
There was a letter from some agency
Her sundrenched cheeks suddenly pale
It said her Caleb was in jail
Keep time, keep on
The road winds, but you don't always have to ride alone
Confused and unsure how to feel
It said her Caleb learned to steal
Out on the road out on his own
He'd made it all the way to San Antone
He'd got a crew he'd got a gun
They went out lookin for some fun
Got busted up by Sheriff John
Who held on for two days and now The Sheriff's gone
Keep time, keep on
There are hills to climb and there are hills you can only walk along
They got their Caleb on the phone
His was a voice they didn't know
He'd taught himself to sound tough but now he just sounded scared
Cuz the DA told him he was lookin' at the chair
His momma cried his pa sat silent as a stone
Just one more asking for, not trying to atone
Nowhere to turn to nowhere else to run
Caleb was an only son
Keep time, keep on
Suns rise and suns set
but sons are never really gone
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3. |
Graceland
04:35
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The Mississippi Delta
Was shining like a National guitar
I am following the river
Down the highway
Through the cradle of the Civil War
I’m going to Graceland
Graceland
In Memphis,Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poorboys and pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland
My traveling companion is nine years old
He is the child of my first marriage
But I’ve reason to believe
We both will be received
In Graceland
She comes back to tell me she’s gone
As if I didn’t know that
As if I didn’t know my own bed
As if I’d never notice
The way she brushed her hair from
Her forehead and she said, “Losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow”
I’m going to Graceland
Memphis, Tennessee
I’m going to Graceland
Poorboys and pilgrims with families
And we are going to Graceland
And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I’m looking at ghosts and empties
But I’ve reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland
There is a girl in New York City
Who calls herself the human trampoline
And sometimes when I’m falling, flying
Or tumbling in turmoil I say
Whoa, so this is what she means
She means we’re bouncing into Graceland
And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you’re blown apart
Everybody sees the wind blow
In Graceland, in Graceland
I’m going to Graceland
For reasons I cannot explain
There’s some part of me wants to see Graceland
And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe there’s no obligations now
Maybe I’ve a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland
Whoa, in Graceland, in Graceland
In Graceland,
I’m going to Graceland
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4. |
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Chris and me we walk the streets out on a Sunday afternoon
By the water, sons and daughters, talking 'bout what we been going through, cuz we no longer knew
The setting sky on the Jersey side makes you wonder why we can't seem to find a way to make sure that we've grown
Chris and me when we go to leave, the empty sky is all we need, the setting sun no longer shown
Sea of cabs on 7th Ave, they crawl as far as I can see
Sea of light that floods the night makes it look like make believe
From The Park to Perry Street
Winter wind, the air grown thin, it brings my memories back to when
We'd spend our nights out on the lawn
One last refrain our manners waned, singing out in that Southern rain
We'd play with ghosts until the dawn
And it's all changing now, it's all changing now, it's all changing now, don't I know it
And we could scream out loud, take the A all the way down, trace our names out on Canal in the snow
And it's all changing now, and it's all strange somehow
But Carolina seems so long ago
Christmas tree on Christmas Eve has hours left to look this way
Lights won't fade or change their shade, they'll burn as bright but they won't look the same, as they do on Christmas Day
Stories age and stories change and not all stories find a page
four stories hardly makes a home
Chris and me we'll walk the streets, run our mouths and shoot the breeze until there's no more streets to roam
And it's all changing now, it's all changing now, it's all changing now, don't I know it
And we could scream out loud, take the A all the way down, trace our names out on Canal in the snow
And it's all changing now, and it's all strange somehow
Carolina seems so long ago
Carolina seems so long ago
Carolina seems so long ago
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David Rothschild New York, New York
David Rothschild is a singer-songwriter and guitarist from New York, performing a unique blend of folk, rock, jazz, and americana.
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