In Scarlet Town where I was born There’s ivy leaf and silver thorn The streets have names you can’t pronounce Gold is down to a quarter of an ounce The music starts and the people sway Everybody says, are you going my way? Uncle Tom still working for Uncle Bill Scarlet town is under the hill
Scarlet Town in the month of May Sweet William on his deathbed lay Mistress Mary by the side of the bed Kissing his face, heaping prayers on his head So brave, so true, so gentle is he I’ll weep for him as he’d weep for me Little Boy Blue come blow your horn In Scarlet Town where I was born
Scarlet Town in the hot noon hours There’s palm leaf shadows and scattered flowers Beggars crouching at the gate Help comes but it comes too late On marble slabs and in fields of stone You make your humble wishes known I touched the garment but the hem was torn In Scarlet Town where I was born
In Scarlet Town the end is near The seven wonders of the world are here The evil and the good living side by side All human forms seem glorified Put your heart on a platter and see who’ll bite See who’ll hold you and kiss you good night There’s walnut groves and maple wood In Scarlet town crying won’t do you no good
In Scarlet Town you fight your father’s foes Up on the hill a chilly wind blows You fight ‘em on high and you fight ‘em down in You fight ‘em with whisky, morphine and gin You got legs that can drive men mad A lot of things we didn’t do that I wish we had In Scarlet Town the sky is clear You'll wish to God that you stayed right here
Set ‘em up Joe, play Walking The Floor Play it for my flat chested junky whore I’m staying up late and I’m making amends While the smile of heaven descends If love is a sin than beauty is a crime All things are beautiful in their time The black and the white, the yellow and the brown It’s all right there for ya in Scarlet Town
Chase Cox
Something There is About You 1973
Something there is about you that strikes a match in me Is it the way your body moves or is it the way your hair blows free? Or is it because you remind me of something that used to be Somethin’ that crossed over from another century?
Thought I’d shaken the wonder and the phantoms of my youth Rainy days on the Great Lakes, walkin’ the hills of old Duluth There was me and Danny Lopez, cold eyes, black night and then there was Ruth Something there is about you that brings back a long-forgotten truth
Suddenly I found you and the spirit in me sings Don’t have to look no further, you’re the soul of many things I could say that I’d be faithful, I could say it in one sweet, easy breath But to you that would be cruelty and to me it surely would be death
Something there is about you that moves with style and grace I was in a whirlwind, now I’m in some better place My hand’s on the sabre and you’ve picked up the baton Somethin’ there is about you that I can’t quite put my finger on
Oliver Ward
Dirge 1973
I hate myself for lovin’ you and the weakness that it showed You were just a painted face on a trip down Suicide Road The stage was set, the lights went out all around the old hotel I hate myself for lovin’ you and I’m glad the curtain fell
I hate that foolish game we played and the need that was expressed And the mercy that you showed to me, who ever would have guessed? I went out on Lower Broadway and I felt that place within That hollow place where martyrs weep and angels play with sin
Heard your songs of freedom and man forever stripped Acting out his folly while his back is being whipped Like a slave in orbit, he’s beaten ’til he’s tame All for a moment’s glory and it’s a dirty, rotten shame
There are those who worship loneliness, I’m not one of them In this age of fiberglass I’m searching for a gem The crystal ball up on the wall hasn’t shown me nothing yet I’ve paid the price of solitude, but at last I’m out of debt
Can’t recall a useful thing you ever did for me ’Cept pat me on the back one time when I was on my knees We stared into each other’s eyes ’til one of us would break No use to apologize, what diff’rence would it make?
So sing your praise of progress and of the Doom Machine The naked truth is still taboo whenever it can be seen Lady Luck, who shines on me, will tell you where I’m at I hate myself for lovin’ you, but I should get over that
Oliver Turner
Reminder that Townes Van Zandt was a better lyricist and musician than Bob Dylan.
