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Sampler Download

by Andrew McKnight

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Treasures in My Chest, Live: Bound for Glory, Live from the Appalachians to Austin, Sampler Download, One Virginia Night, Something Worth Standing For, 1845, Red-Haired Boy, and 4 more. , and , .

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words & music A. McKnight, 2006©Catalooch Music, BMI Verse 1 Hurricane flags, flutter in warning the highway to high ground, unmoved all morning the least of the least, phantoms in plain view begging a ride, begging for rescue From under the bottom line, onto the TV they're suddenly seen, looking through you and me, born like each one of us, naked and crying, somehow left behind, hope sputtered and dying Scattered like matchsticks, floodwaters preordained tempest filled teacup, the driftwood of Pontchartrain call out for mercy, but there's no answer when we ask how it went so wrong Chorus Can you believe, these times we're living in (3X) Verse 2 Somehow overheated, the road to Salvation as we lose our grip with each revelation of unholy deals, fleecing the faithful shattering vows, cracking the crucible To steal from the people, was that Jesus teaching, we recite the words, but lose their meaning the princes and pundits, cloaked in theocracy while thieves in the temple, are looting our liberties Is this what it comes to, power and preference executive privilege, for or against us wrapped in the flag, discredit dissenters, while they tear down all we hold dear Chorus Can you believe, these times we're living in (4X) Can you believe
Words & music A. McKnight, ©2003 Catalooch Music, BMI Verse 1 Nightbird sings its mournful song, rooftop rain lasts too long droplet drumbeats in my head, with all the words I should have said Slipped out with my fallen pride, the door I walked out locked behind though these scraps of grace I've saved, Intention's road is freshly paved Pre-Chorus I have found no magic garden wander though I will there is no land of Eden waiting, over the hill Chorus So I'm hiding out here, underneath the moon I know the light of reckoning is rising soon Someday they'll tell the tale of this tragic circumstance the outlaw's last escape, the poet's great romance Instrumental Verse 2 no one saw the final stand, no glory blazing at the end twisted up like Texas wind, all that's left of all I've been Pre-Chorus Chorus
Words & music A. McKnight, ©1999 Catalooch Music, BMI Verse 1 Climbing on this big jet plane, headed into, a western sky if I had a rearview mirror, that's how I'd pass the time looking back on, leaving I've done, should be old hat by now do I want too much, lingering touch, did I hold her too long Chorus Eighteen hundred miles, from the Chesapeake to this Great Divide Eighteen hundred miles, separate me from the truth inside and I am lonesome, lonesome under western skies Verse 2 Drive these roads that long ago, echoed with hooves, Arapaho and as I pass these ranches I almost feel their ghosts riding along never cared for, conquistadors, plundering mountains for gold so please don't fear, I haven't come here, to prospect for love or reward Chorus Verse 3 50 West, beckons like an old friend, leading me to, parts unknown and I draw gallons of cold comfort, knowing this road, can lead me home is it my heart, missed her from the start, or just thin air getting to my head Chorus
Words & music A. McKnight, ©1997 Catalooch Music, BMI Verse 1 Remember us punks racing, down where Rte. 5 curls, days in our V8s, and nights with the carhop girls I never noticed it going so fast, never saw it coming apart now instead of working the family fields, the kids stock shelves at Wal-Mart Chorus The world passed right by like we disappeared, on their way to someplace far from here left strip malls on the bypass, reminders we once had dreams if it looks like Progress well, that’s just the way that it seems Verse 2 Now those kids growing up, on their cul-de-sac they’ll never walk, hand-in-hand down that old railroad track they leave their innocence behind, big trucks parked where new condos are growing they’ll make love when they’re lucky, and babies the rest of the time Chorus Verse 3 Downtown brick facades, they wear the old timers pain, and the rain runs red, from the building boom along the 4-lane, those concrete and neon monuments, replaced pride in this old town with storefronts staring vacantly, just like they know Chorus if it smells like progress, well, that’s just the smoke of our dreams
Words & music A. McKnight, ©1999 Catalooch Music, BMI Verse 1 Jesus left town on the nighttime train slipped out in the darkness to minimize our pain really wasn't much for him to do some bum picked his pocket and his credit was no good Chorus Faith may move mountains, faith may cure the ill faith will fight outnumbered, where doubt never will faith does not make bullets, faith will not wage war, faith won't twist the truth and faith ain't found 'round here no more Verse 2 The preacher laid his cards out on the deck, said "Boys my ride's waiting, now it's time to collect" then he clutched his chest and fell to the floor said "I'll be fine, my heart stopped a long time before" Chorus Excerpt - "The Last Convent in Gomorrah" (C. Chandler) Verse 3 I met Jesus on the nighttime train in a couple thousand years he'll be back to try again left me with this parting advice whatever comes easy ain't worth the sacrifice Chorus Jesus left town on the nighttime train
Bargeman 05:06
Words & music A. McKnight, ©1996 Catalooch Music, BMI Verse 1 I am a simple bargeman, I work this Ohio, and I never really let these engines run spend my life on the water, of this dammed muddy chocolate lake, and I always run the locks so perfectly No I’ve never seen the mountains, or Indian paintbrush fiery red no I’ve not seen oceans indigo blue I am much like this river, all pent up but mostly calm, and flat like these waters that I’m floating on Chorus Though I am but a plain man, I dream of higher things but my life is run to this engine’s rhythmic toil and it’s coal from Kentucky, big steel from Ohio, or the occasional tank of Texas oil on this placid muddy water, from Queen City to Louisville I know it better than anyone would want to I know it better than you would want to Verse 2 I take two weeks vacation, I spend them on my porch in this house we built nigh on 40 years ago there isn’t much adventure, but there isn’t any risk cause the screens will keep the mosquitoes out Chorus Verse 3 when I was a child, I dreamed I’d stow away and ride these barges to the Gulf of Mexico now I toss my cigarette butts, with the trash that’s flowing by floating like my dreams leaving my life behind Chorus Coda I am a simple bargeman, I work this Ohio, but I’ve never really let my engines run
Words & music A. McKnight 1995©Waves of Mountains/Catalooch Music BMI Verse 1 All my years I’ve lived here, it’s the only way I know run the family farm with the grace of God above and the fertile soil below, summer’s gone eleven weeks, of searing stormless choke fifty thousand dollars worth, of dreams going up in smoke Verse 2 Sacrificed another field today, to keep the other’s growing had to sell my milking cows, to keep the bankers going away that line of clouds across, the skies might bring the winds of death, or raindrops to my eyes Chorus My wife she’s out there dancing, in her checkered kitchen dress droplets running down her brow, and her blond hair’s getting messed Iowa can be a place where fertile famines drink this year just poured life down from the brink and I’m dancing in the rain Verse 3 Before today my luck had gone, a hard left towards the worst enough to make an honest man think a farmer’s life is cursed remembering tales on my granddad’s knee, of soil that sprouted wings it’s taken thirty years for me, to appreciate these things Chorus Bridge Heard it on the radio, Dakota wheat fields won’t survive my cousin Jack up there will find some way to stay alive Mother Nature’s fickle ways might someday do me in but I’m on my knees, in gratitude, cause it’s raining Verse 4 Next year we might stare at this, same mess right in the face, this old white house and apple trees, keep me fighting for this place facing up to troubles that, my children might not know when you’ve got your generations on, the farm all in a row Chorus
Gatlinburg 04:33
Words & music A. McKnight, ©1995 Waves of Mountains/Catalooch Music, BMI Verse 1 An old man now I’ve grown to be, but here’s the simple truth, the story of my life played out while I was but a youth My family farmed these hollers since, my great-great-grandpappy, lived here in these misty woods with the last of the Cherokee Verse 2 First loggers came with big machines, tearing up the earth, took Appalachian hardwood trees, for all that they were worth Ripped coves and balds alike, took all the land would give, left us with a few cold coins, and no place left to live Chorus The moon sets slowly on the west, bringing darkness to this life and all the rest, Lord these mountain ways must end, when the last coach out of Gatlinburg is goin’ round the bend Verse 3 The federal government took my land, in 1921, to make a national park here in the home of the Cherokee sun, Tourists came from New York town, in finery and pearls, staring at these hazy slopes and the barefoot hillbilly girls Chorus Bridge No place left to go, but a government house with the flatlanders, and the politicians throwing stones, to claim the triumph first Lead Verse 4 Now I’m not much ‘ginst wilderness, in fact I’d like some too, just give me back my rundown shack, that’s all I ask of you My homestead lies 2 exits down, this old 4-lane highway, paved over by a strip mall with a Smoky Mountain name Chorus Chorus
Verse 1 Granddad was a union man, worked deep beneath the ground said a prayer in the morning, and again to see the sun go down day from night by lantern light, to earn enough to eat by Saturday moon on the mountainside, the fiddle moved their feet Verse 2 Went in the mines at fourteen, took a wife at twenty one raised five kids in the holler, like his daddy done the company cut costs and corners, everywhere it could still every Sunday they gave thanks, that they had it good Chorus I know that times are changing, they say progress is good but do we honor honest work, like my granddaddy would the eagle soaring high, would he recognize this land built upon the sturdy backs, of those who made by hand Verse 3 my daddy left these mountains for the mills of Ohio rolled the steel that won the war, far away from home back in grandad's holler, big timber stripped the land laid railroad tracks that can't bring back, the lives they'd made by hand Chorus Instrumental Verse 4 I long for West Virginia, her hard blue rolling hills memories of childhood, I hear those echoes still our family stories vanished, no trace I could find they even tore the mountain down, where Grandad used to mine Chorus


Thank you for subscribing to the monthly E-Zine and lending a hand to directly support my art. There are songs here from each of my solo CDs as well as my band Andrew McKnight & Beyond Borders CD/DVD, plus some live tracks. It's all a way of saying a humble thanks, introducing you to more of my music, and perhaps inspiring you to help spread the word.


released September 15, 2013


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Andrew McKnight Lincoln

Nationally-acclaimed singer/songwriter and guitarist celebrates rural America, weaves masterfully crafted songs, humorous stories and poetic drama into a musical soundscape sketched with shades of Appalachia, tasteful slide and jazzy blues, feisty anthems, and rustic folk. 5 solo CDs heard on many public & community radio, plus NPR "Art of the Song" & "River City Folk" and XM/Sirius. ... more

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