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Flood Waters Rising

by Whelan

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1.
Frisco Lines 04:32
Too Cold Ohio Blues c. 2013 Sidney S. Whelan (Lyrics only) Well I lived in Ohio, much too cold for me. Well I lived in Ohio baby, much too cold for me. The sun refused to shine and I like to freeze. Well it rained for forty days and it snowed for forty nights. It rained for forty days and it snowed for forty nights. So dark in the daytime the people never turn off they lights. Well I’m leavin’ Ohio baby I feel like I’m runnin’ out of time. I’m leavin’ Ohio baby I feel like I’m runnin’ out of time. I‘m bound for California leavin’ out on that ‘Frisco Line. Well I like my whiskey and you know I love my wine. Well I like my whiskey and you know I love my wine. But since I left Ohio baby you know I don’t drink moonshine. Moonshine’ll make you crazy it’ll give you a crippled leg. Moonshine’ll make you crazy it’ll give you a crippled leg. You wake up in the morning you won’t be able to move a peg. Well fire up this engine get this train runnin’ right on time. Fire up this engine keep this train runnin’ right on time. My San Francisco woman’s gonna fire up this engine of mine.
2.
Fool's Gold 04:00
Fool’s Gold c. 2013 Sidney S. Whelan Well he traveled East to Boston. With a cell phone and a pack of cards. Some digits on a matchbook cover. But when he got there the deal was over, Ship had sailed for cleaner harbors. And the Blues came around Like a lowdown mangy hound. That’s the way the Blues comes ‘round When all you see as you look around is Fool’s Gold, Fool’s Gold, Fool’s Gold. It all went South in Carolina Said: “Where’s Lady Luck? Well I can’t find her.” A trooper stopped to give an answer, Said: “Boy you sho is far from home, We’d all be better off wit’ you gone!” And the Blues stood her ground Like a growling Junkyard hound. That’s the way the Blues comes down When all that glitter on the ground is Fool’s Gold, Fool’s Gold, Fool’s Gold. Ran home up North to New York City. Fell in with the boys from ‘round the way. They didn’t have nothin’ good to say: “Can’t fit you anywhere in our plans, You shoulda joined with us when you had the chance.” And the Blues shuffled ‘round Like a lowdown mangy hound. Like a twister through your town. Like a grave dug in the ground. That's the way the Blues comes down when all you see as you look around is Fool’s Gold, Fool’s Gold, Fool’s Gold. When all that glitter on the ground is Fool's Gold. Fool's Gold.
3.
Flood Waters Rising c. 2013 Sidney S. Whelan Flood waters rising. All the people gathered round To see The high water mark Slip below The sea Flood waters rising, Covering all the ground As far As the old City Hall And the Bikers’ bar. Flood waters rising Washing away a way Of life Goin’ back many long years. Fear cuts Like a knife. Flood waters rising Flood waters rising They know it’s comin’ You can see it in their eyes. They saw that tsunami On the Youttube and TV Thinkin’ “That could have been me And soon it will be.” Flood waters rising Rushing over the seawall It pours. Ice is all melting away. Never coming back No more. Flood waters rising Flood waters rising He says “This is the House that Mom and Dad left me. What’s gonna happen now?” How’m I gonna rebuild it Should I even live by, Live down by the sea?” Wanna tell you it’ll be alright Wanna tell you it’ll be alright Wanna tell you it’ll be alright but I don’t really know. Can’t tell you it’ll be alright Can’t tell you it’ll be alright Can’t tell you it’ll be alright ‘cause I don’t know. Just might not be alright Just might not be alright Just might not be alright I Don’t know. I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know.
4.
Lighten Up 03:53
Lighten Up c. 2013 Sidney S. Whelan "Lighten up!" She said to me. "You take it all Too seriously." "Altough you're right." She said to me. "It's all coming to an end, Just not immediately." "We got some time left." She said to me. "We can mourn when we're dead Tonight is still lovely." "Let's go dance." She said to me. "Where the sun sets Over the wine-dark sea." "We all die." She said to me. ":So dance now And hold me closely." "Tell the truth;" She said to me. "It was worth livin' To be with me." "Lighten up!" She said to me. "You take it all Too seriously."
5.
Bird Nest on the Ground c. 2013 Sidney S. Whelan Haints in the attic. Haints in the woods. Preacher man comin’ for your earthly goods Your wife; your house; your horse and your farm. Preacher man comin’ in his Cadillac car. While you’re out searching for that, Bird nest on the ground. Bird nest on the ground, Bird nest on the ground. Sleep with anger or pray for peace. Preacher man comin’ to pray for peace. A piece of your wife; your truck and your farm. Preacher man comin’ with the Devil in his heart. ‘Cause you were searchin’ for that Bird nest on the ground, Bird nest on the ground, Bird nest on the ground. Play that policy, let your numbers run. Ducks fall to pellets from the mouth of your gun. Wings beat ‘gainst a blood-red sky. Gun smoke, buckshot, one last cry. 1, 2, 3, 4 tumbling down. You think you just found that Bird nest on the ground. Ham hocks boil in a pot of greens. Preacher man at the door lookin’ through the screen. Hungry for your wife; your food and your farm. Preacher man lookin’ to cause you harm. Guess he just found that Bird nest on the ground, Bird nest on the ground, Bird nest on the ground.
6.
That List 05:27
That List (Wayne Lapierre’s Blues Part 2) c. 2013 Sid Whelan Wayne Lapierre Mr. NRA Was in the news again today He published a list of enemies A list of established companies, A list of respected agencies, Charities and celebrities, Each one of which made Wayne displeased. This list was up 'til now unknown, But today Wayne's cover was duly blown By a liberal media journalist Who no doubt was incredibly pissed That his own chance had clearly been missed To be included on Wayne's list! Wayne, oh Wayne! It’s a lowdown dirty shame That list you’re keepin’ Does not include my name. I went on your site. To read the list late last night. Sadly I found You had quietly taken it down. Now why would you do that? Deprive the entertainment community Of needed promotion and publicity Once you give it you can't take it away We're tired of Facebook and Youtube anyway We were hoping to rely on the NRA To make our marketing troubles All go away. Wayne oh Wayne It's a doggone dirty shame That list you're keeping Is my only path to fame. Now Wayne he loves Amendment two. ‘Cause it lets him sell guns to me and to you. But Wayne has no love for Amendment one. 'Cause people can use it to criticize guns, Or the wisdom of selling large magazines To criminals, terrorists and the mentally diseased. Sales that might have been stopped by a background check But Wayne thinks that is the path to Heck. And since Wayne makes 1 million dollars a year, Peddling bullets, weaponry, paranoia and fear, I can understand why he can’t stand to hear, What the folks on his list are trying to say, About innocent lives that they want to save! Wayne, oh Wayne It's a lowdown dirty shame That list you're keepin’ Does not include my name. Like a thief in the night You took our list off your site To all us entertainers that Seems like an act of spite. Rickie Lake, Bonne Raitt and Rob Lowe Britney Spears, NSYNC and Sheryl Crow Michael Moore independent radical film maker Wayne, I need your stamp of disapproval please. From celebrities to the Anti-Defamation League. But, wait a minute; tell me Wayne Exactly who you'd like to defame? Wayne, hear this, I really must insist Stop playing these games and Put me on your list! Stop playing these games and Put me on your list! Stop playing these games and Put me on your list!
7.
Dog in the fight c. 2013 Sidney S. Whelan Since this time last year, They’ve been lining up and taking sides. Now the crowd lets out a cheer, As each side’s man arrives. They’re rolling up their sleeves, On this rough and dirty patch. We ain’t none of us naïve. Get your toes up to the scratch So before the crack of dawn Brings the first ray of light You’d better have a dog in the fight In the fight You’d better have a dog in the fight. He took a chance on you, He took a chance on me. He thought he knew the truth, And they way it’s meant to be. He took a chance on blame. He took a chance on fright. He took a chance on shame, And a heavy dose of spite. So before the bets are laid And the bookies walk in sight. He’d better have a dog in the fight, In the fight. He’d better have a dog in the fight. He eyed the calm defender Standing tall across the square. He said “I’ll return you to your Sender, Your flat will need a spare. I’ll snatch you till your head is bald, And you cry for your hair. I’ll beat you ‘til the doctor’s called And take your woman into my care.” He looked around, boasting At the left and to his right. And said “The Dogs of War are with me in this fight, In this fight. The Dogs of War are with me in this fight.” He’d bought off half the judges Paid off half the crowd Had his thugs and his enforcers Scattered all around. So imagine his confusion At the top of the 12th round, He just could not believe it As his body hit the ground. He looked around worried At the left and to his right. And said “I brought the wrong dog to this fight, To this fight I brought the wrong dog to this fight.” The judges who’d been bought Retreated quickly out the back. The enforcers and the thugs thought “Time to exit, Jack.” The crowd divided quickly Along their party lines He was feeling kind of sickly Second guesses in his mind Bloody, bruised and broke-down He stumbled home late in the night “I didn’t have a dog in the fight. I’m sorry babe. I didn’t have a dog in the fight.”
8.
9.
I Can’t Write Love Songs c. 2013 Sidney S. Whelan Baby I’m sorry that I’m up here on this stage Singing story after story of bitterness and rage About crazy right wingers Gun nuts and their fears Global warming; politicians; reckless greedy financiers. I know I should be singing ‘bout my boundless love for you. I know that I should do it, ‘case that’s what good singers do. But I can’t write love songs. I can’t write love songs. I can’t write love songs the words don’t come out right. I know I’m doing something wrong; everything I say is trite. I can’t write love songs, the way they’re supposed to be. Like Stevie Wonder, John Lennon, Carole King or Alicia Keys. I wonder why that is? I know words. I know chords I know melodies I know you And most of all We know love. I can’t write love songs. I can’t write love songs. I can’t write love songs But I’ll see you at home tonight. I can’t write love songs But I’ll see you at home tonight.

about

7 Originals and 2 covers inspired by the Blues before 1960. Recorded in a live rough-n-ready, everyone-in-one-room setting with tons of vintage instruments, amps and gear.

credits

released November 20, 2013

Doug Berns: Upright and Electric Basses
Richard Huntley: Drums, Percussion
Arnaldo “Naido” Vargas: Piano, Keyboards, Accordion, Harmonica, Vocals
Sid Whelan: Guitar, Vocals. Electric bass on “I Can’t Write Love Songs.”
Produced by: Sid Whelan & Lora-Faye
Recorded, edited and mixed at John Kilgore Sound & Recording
Mastered at Masterdisk by Randy Merrill

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Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.

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Whelan New York, New York

Sid Whelan is a veteran singer-songwriter with an unapologetically old-school vibe. He has released three solo albums on Bandcamp. He calls his Music "Dark Blue Americana" and has studied songwriting with Chely Wright and Steve Earle. He has also studied guitar with Woody Mann & Howard Morgen. ... more

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