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Guy Clark




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  G  →  Guy Clark  →  Albums  →  Cold Dog Soup

Guy Clark Album


Cold Dog Soup (1999)
1999
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William Butler Yeats in jeans
Got up to play guitar and sing
In some join in Mission Beach last night
At the door sat Tom Waits
In a pork pie hat and silver skates
Jugglin' three collection plates Jesus Christ

Townes Van Zandt standin' at the bar
Skinnin' a Hollywood movie star
Can't remember where he parked his car
Or to whom he lost the keys
Full of angst and hillbilly haiku
What's a poor Ft. Worth boy to do
Go on rhyme somethin' for em' man
Show him how you really feel

Chorus

Ain't no money in poetry
That's what sets the poet free
I've had all the freedom I can stand
Cold dog soup and rainbow pie
Is all it takes to get me by
Fool my belly till the day I die
Cold dog soup and rainbow pie

Ginsberg and Kerouac
Shootin' dice and playin' Ramblin' Jack's guitar
With the cowboy paintin' pickguard on it
And they sat in the back and drank for free
And rhymed orange with Rosalie
Now there's a pride of lions to draw to

Chorus

. . .


Fort Worth neon shinin' bright
Pretty lights red and blue
They shut down all the honky tonks tonight
Say a prayer or two, if they only knew

You used to say the highway was your home
But we both know that ain't true
It's just the only place a man can go
When he don't know where he's travelin' to

Colorado's always clean and healin'
Tennessee the spring is green and cool
But it never really was your kind of town
So you went around with the Fort Worth blues

Somewhere out across the Great Divide
Where the sky is wide and the clouds are few
A man can see his way clear to the light
Just hold on tight, that's all you got to do

They say in Texas the weather's always changin'
One thing change will bring is something new
Houston really ain't too bad a town
So you hung around with the Fort Worth Blues

There's a full moon over Galway Bay tonight
Silver light on green and blue
Every place I travel to find
Some kind of sign that you've been through

Amsterdam us always good for grievin'
London never fails to leave me blue
Paris really ain't my kind of town
So I walked around with the Fort Worth blues

. . .


Kick your shoes off in the corner mama
Tuck the babies all up snug
Sis Draper's comin' over, we all gonna cut a rug
When you see that lantern swingin' yonder
Comin' up the Holler Road
Them dogs'll get to barkin'
Ought to tie em all up with a rope

You boys better get in tune
Sis Draper's gonna be here soon
Don't shoot no dice nor get too tight
If you're gonna pick with Sis tonight

She came down from the Boston mountains
There was lightnin' in the air
Honey on them fiddle strings
Magnolia in her hair
She's a diamond in the rough
If you can't see the shine that's tough
Play all night for the likes of us
Sis Draper's got the touch

She'll play all night if she feels like it
have some fruit punch if you spike it
Sis don't care who don't like it
See, ol' Sis has got a Hell of a bow arm on her

She stepped up and sawed one off
And uncle Cleve dropped his jaw
Said she's the best I ever saw
She must be from Arkansas

I think Grandpa used to date her
Grandma says she still hates her
All the fellas stand up straighter
In the presence of Sis Draper

Sis Draper is the devil's daughter
Plays the fiddle Daddy bought her
Plays it like her mama taught her
She's a travelin' Arkansawyer

Put her fiddle in a box
Said it's getting awful late
She's on her way to Little Rock
And Little Rock can't wait

So we all stood out in the yard
Hands all full of watermelon
Watcher her leave watched her go
Wishin' I was in that wagon

Sis Draper is the devil's daughter
Plays the fiddle Daddy bought her
Plays it like her mama taught her
She's a travelin' Arkansawyer

. . .


Baby don't let em' blow smoke up your dress
Don't let em' break your heart
Don't start thinkin' that life's a mess
You've done just fine so far
And when the ways of the world start getting you down
You're all our of repartee if your smile turns to a frown
It ain't no trouble to me

Chorus

Trouble be gone, trouble be damned
Love be trouble free
Come on home any old time
It ain't no trouble to me
It ain't no trouble to me

I got a shoulder with your name on it
Should a tear come to your eye
I got ears that hear anything you fear
And a tongue that will not lie
Yeah, I'm gonna love you till the day I die
That's a guarantee
Tomorrow be another day
But it ain't no trouble to me

Chorus

. . .


They baptized me one fine day
Down at the river's edge
All my sins are washed away
Like water under the bridge

I had a little girl and her eyes were blue
She lived just over the ridge
Her love ran deep and her love ran true
Like water under the bridge

Sailin' away on a paper boat
As far as I can go
All the way to New Orleans
And the Gulf of Mexico

River run clear river run clean
River run rough sometime
River run wild and it run serene
Just like a friend of mine

Tie my troubles in a gunnysack
And throw em' over the edge
Sailin' away and I won't be back
Like water under the bridge

You might be saint you might be sinner
You might be Billy The Kid
You might crap out or roll a winner
It's water under the bridge

. . .


Forever ain't easy to come by
For always ain't never to sure
For certain is less than you hoped for
For someone it's hard to endure
Foresaken must sometimes befall us
For sorrow sometimes will call
Four seasons go around on a pinwheel
And tomorrow ain't nothin' at all

The first time that I came by lovin'
Forever was all on my mind
And I never got used to the hurting
Or the searchin' for some love in kind
And it seems like I'm still chasing rainbows
It seems like I'm still on the run
Forever don't mean much in passing
Forgotten don't mean that it's done

Forever, for always, for certain'
For someone forsaken for sure
For any old plan you got workin'
For any old pain you can cure
Forever, for always, for certain

. . .


Chorus

The only difference between men and boys
Is the size of their feet and the price of their toys
Always horsin' around makin' too much noise
Ain't it funny how men will be boys

Kickin' tires round the pick-up truck
Drinkin' beer and just cuttin' up
Smokin' and jokin' out behind the shed
Cussin' a blue streak till the girls turn red

Chorus

Sneakin' out of the house tryin' to have a little fun
Lookin' for somthin' that he ain't done
Look what the cat dragged in at the break of dawn
He ain't passed out he's campin' on the lawn

Chorus

You can spend a lifetime growin' up
You can spend a lifetime in a rut
When it comes a time you got to make a choice
Most men would just as soon be boys

Chorus

. . .


I rolled off the San Francisco mint in 1909
The last one they ever made, you should've seen me shine
When I landed on the counter they gave me to a kid
Making change for a jaw breaker was the first thing that I did

I got traded for a pocket knife, two marbles and some string
Wound up on a railroad track waiting for a train
Snatched up by a hobo and turned right into wine
Pitched up against the wall at least a thousand times

Chorus

'Round and 'round a penny goes
'Round and back again
Listen and I'll tell you
The places that I've been

I got stolen from a banker by Pretty Boy Floyd and then
He gave me to a farmer who was trying to save his land
I was good luck to a soldier back in W.W.II
He lost me in a poker game the day the war was through

I got stuck behind the back seat of a '51 Chevrolet
Spare change in the sixties, getting worth less every day
Now it's piggy banks and gum machines and occasional wishing wells
Or laying on a barroom floor, Indian heads or tails

Chorus

I'm a pretty lucky penny, Lord it happens every time
Just when I start feeling lost and left behind
Some kid will pick me up and wonder where I've been
Put me in his pocket, and here I go again

Chorus

. . .


At the Broken Heart Ranch
You can always get work
As a cowfool
There's feelin's to wrangle
Loose ends to untangle and tie

Sun up to sundown
Ridin' herd on old memories
Sundown to sun up
Singin' the bunkhouse blues

There's a lone bawlin' calf
Lost in a little box canyon
Got no companion
Lord, don't I know how he feels

Up there on the canyon rim
Blows a cold coyote wind
Buzzards grinnin' down at him
I'm singin' the bunkhouse blues

At the Broken Heart Ranch
Saturday night sure gets lonesome
I long for the lights
And the comfort of someone in town

Playin' cards and killin' time
Somebody stole my piggin' line
this ain't no nursery rhyme
I'm talkin' the bunkhouse blues

. . .


From Palo Duro Canyon outside Amarillo Texas
The prairie dog town fork of the Red River flows
Headed cross the plains along the coast of Oklahoma
To the Mississippi River and the Gulf of Mexico

Red River I know you I know you of old
You have filled up my pockets with quicksand and gold
Susanna oh Susanna when it comes my time
Bury me south of that Red River line

My great grandfather came to that Red River line
And camped on the north side until it was time
To cross or to stay to be sooner or not
He headed south to San Antone they said he liked it hot

Here's to Charlie Goodnight and Mr. Loving too
Here's to Coronado, the Comanche, and the blues
Here's to the bootleggers and the oilfield crews
Here's to the one and all of us Red River fools

. . .


Don't be a stranger
If you're looking for a friend
If you want an even break
You've got to learn to bend

You don't have a song
If you don't know how to sing
You don't have a prayer
If you don't know how to dream

Chorus

What's the use in dyin'
If you don't die tryin'
If you don't die tryin'
What's the use
What's the use in flyin'
If you don't die flyin'
If you don't die flyin'
What's the use

If you're gonna roll the dice
You gotta take a chance
Gotta get out on the floor
If you want to do the dance

If you don't know how to laugh
You'll never learn to cry
If you don't know how to fall
You'll never learn how to fly

Chorus

. . .


Sometimes a loser
Sometimes a hero
This is a lonely captain's story
Sword and a pistol by his side

Chorus

Do Lord oh do remember him
Yes, yes, remember him
There will be a singer
Whenever his time has come to die
Be gone forever

Sometimes an angel
Sometimes unwanted
This is a lonely nurse's story
Watch and a clipboard by her side

Chorus

Sometimes a legend
Sometimes a beggar
This is a lonely hobo's story
Cane and a switchblade by his side

Chorus

Sometimes we're ugly
Not really worth it
This is a lonely planet's story
We're the third one from the sun

Chorus

. . .


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