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by Andrew McKnight

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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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Track Name: Times We're Living In
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

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

Can you believe, these times we're living in (4X)
Can you believe
Track Name: The Poet's Great Romance
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

I have found no magic garden wander though I will
there is no land of Eden waiting, over the hill
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


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

Track Name: Western Skies (live)
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

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


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

Track Name: Andrew McKnight & Beyond Borders - A Town Called Progress (live)
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
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

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
if it smells like progress, well, that’s just the smoke of our dreams
Track Name: Jesus and the Nighttime Train (with Chris Chandler)
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

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"


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


Jesus left town on the nighttime train
Track Name: Bargeman
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
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

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

I am a simple bargeman, I work this Ohio,
but I’ve never really let my engines run
Track Name: Dancing in the Rain (live)
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

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

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
Track Name: Gatlinburg
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
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
No place left to go, but a government house with the flatlanders,
and the politicians throwing stones, to claim the triumph first

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
Track Name: Andrew McKnight, Chance McCoy and Les Thompson - Made by Hand
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

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



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