

# Pieces of Time

# Bluegrass, Folk, and Western lyrics

# by Dennis Goodwin

The Americana song lyrics in the first section are available for co-writing. If you are interested in working up a melody to any of them, please let me know and I'll put it on a three-month co-writing hold. I particularly enjoy writing historically based ballads, and have had an interest in the American West and the Civil War for years - writing numerous articles for Wild West, True West, and Old West magazines.

The second section consists of those which have been recorded by various artists and groups. These include Randy Kohrs, The Dave Rowe Trio, Jean Prescott, Susan Nikas, Bill Barwick, Rick Pickren, Aaron Ramsey, Runaway Freight, & Marvin O'Dell. I have written or co-written the lyrics to three charted songs: "Handmade Nails and Homemade Love" (#4 on the Power Source Top 20 charts and the month's most played bluegrass song on Sirius XM radio) "Rockwell's Gold" (# 3 on the Bluegrass Unlimited charts) & "Devil of the Trail" (# 12 on Bluegrass Music Profiles Top 30). If you might be interested in covering any of them, just let me know and I'll put you in touch with the publisher.

Copyright 2020 All rights reserved.

Books by the author:

Ten-minute Tales

More Ten-minute Tales

Out of the West

Brass Bands and Snake Oil Stands

Fate, Flukes, & Fame in Country and Bluegrass

The Activity Director's Bag of Tricks

Lives and Times

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

770-979-5727

### Subjects of unrecorded lyrics:

Silver Heels (legendary Colorado good-hearted dancing queen)

Andersonville prison

The value of being a little "slow and behind the times"

The Donner party

A "John Deere Dear John" letter

Kitty Leroy (famous Deadwood frontier "wild cat")

Black Tuesday, 1929

The great locomotive chase

Amelia Earhart

Arizona Rangers

Anne Bonny (famous lady pirate)

Nancy Morgan Hart (Revolutionary War heroine)

Belle Starr

Joe Meek (rough and rowdy mountain man)

Civil War yellow hospital flags

"Bluegrass in Heaven"

Death Valley origin

Broken-hand Fitzpatrick (famed mountain man)

Jesse Owens

Cock-eyed Charlie (female stagecoach driver who pretended to be male)

"Country in Disguise"

Early country radio performers

"Crazy Bet" (Union undercover operative, who was anything but "crazy")

Circuit-riding preachers

Burning of Atlanta

Panama Canal construction

Woodstock

Chief Joseph

Burning of Columbia S. C.

Seminole War

Klondike Gold Rush

Fall of the Berlin Wall

"Hard Winter Blues"

Wilmer McLean (Civil War began and ended on his property)

Mormon Handcart tragedy

Geronimo

Fort Sumter (first shots of the Civil War)

Judge Parker (the "hanging judge")

Julia Bulette (beloved Virginia City prostitute who was murdered)

Great Diamond Hoax of 1872

Mary Phagan murder mystery

Elizabeth Cady Stanton (famous suffrage leader)

Spirit of St. Louis

Calamity Jane

"Memory-killing Time"

Sutter's Mill (beginning of the California Gold Rush)

Jedediah Smith (famous mountain man)

Amistad mutiny

Jim Bowie

"Mysterious Dave" Mather (both a lawman and a stage robber)

Rosa Parks

Little Rock Nine

Twin Towers terrorist tragedy

"Out of Sight, Out of Mind"Peg-leg

Annie Morrow (brave western prostitute who became famous)

Frederick Douglas

Poker Alice (colorful Deadwood character)

Red Cloud (led the only major war won by Indians)

Rough & Ready (a colorful little town that seceded from the union)

Fanny Crosby (very prolific blind gospel lyric writer)

Carrie Nation \- (hatchet-wielding prohibitionist)

First pioneer party to California (who really didn't know the way)

"Stonewall" Jackson

The Everetts' Music Barn in Suwanee, Georgia

Crazy Horse

Strong-hearted Woman (a gusty Modoc Indian female warrior)

Superstition Mountain (site of the "Dutchman's ghost")

Bonnie and Clyde

Martin Luther King's letter from the Birmingham jail

Oklahoma land rush

Elfego Baca (brave & fortunate lawman who survived a relentless attack)

Early radio characters

Nat Love (most famous black cowboy)

The West's improbable "Camel Corps"

The Annie C. McGuire (shipwreck with a strange secret)

Belle Starr"

The Ballad of Duct Tape (pretty funny, if I do say so myself)

Grizzly Adams

Clara Barton

"The Bluegrass Cure"

The "Buckeye Bullet", Jesse Owens

Sitting Bull

The legend of the Cherokee Rose

The thirties dust bowl

The Normandy invasion

"The Grass Turned Blue" (origin of Bluegrass music)

The Greenbriar Ghost (a ghost who helped convict her murderer)

A Greenville Grease House (origin of the Blue Grass Boys)

"The Irish Annies" (two Irish lassies who survived the Titanic's sinking)

George Devol (famed riverboat gambler)

Annie Oakley

Mother Teresa

Nellie Cashman (rescued several trapped gold miners)

The Johnstown Flood

Annie Ethridge \- (treated Union soldiers on the battlefield)

Dalton Brothers

Navaho code-breakers of World War II

The spirits of the soldiers who died at Gettysburg

Thomas Kane (stopped a senseless war with the Mormons)

Treasure City, Nevada (wild silver-mining town)

The "Ghost Dance" tragedy

The Sager Orphans of the Overland Trail

The "Black Blizzards" of the 1930's

The gold rush in the Black Hills

Doc Holiday

Clash of the Monitor and the Merrimac

Virginia Dare (first English-born child in America)

White Pine Mountains silver rush

Belle Boyd (Southern lady who helped save "Stonewall" Jackson)

"Would They Still Lead Us Here?" (probable regrets of the pioneers)

Galveston Hurricane of 1900

"Your Grand Ole Walls" (tribute to the Opry)

"Wild Western Heart" (personification of the Overland Trail)

Recorded lyrics
SILVER HEELS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

A dark-haired beauty settled in our Colorado town

And lit up every lonely miner's heart for miles around,

No other dancehall darlin' could even stand a chance

When our silver-heeled angel would fly into her dance.

She'd tap her fancy dancing shoes with silver on the heels

And keep a lively rhythm to those fiddle jigs and reels,

Our pretty miner's angel; our darling, Silver Heels

When Smallpox cursed our mining camp in eighteen sixty-one

The ones who hadn't caught it left like hounds upon the run,

But not our dancehall angel, who gave her love and care

As she stayed to wrap the victims in bandages and prayer.

When the sickness passed, we went to thank our dancing queen

But darling Silver Heels was gone to nevermore be seen,

So many say they've seen her, in moonlight ghostly pale

With her silver shoes still shining and scars beneath her veil.

She'd tap her fancy dancing shoes with silver on the heels

And keep a lively rhythm to those fiddle jigs and reels,

Our pretty miner's angel; our darling, Silver Heels

Poor Silver Heels, your beauty

Wasn't only on your face,

But buried deep within your heart

Where time cannot erase.
MACON COUNTY HELL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

I was a carpenter in Boston when I heard my country call

I donned the blue and promised not to let the Union fall,

But they shot me down in Lynchburg and they caught me where I fell

And threw me like a convict in this Macon County hell.

And the Devil should be proud

Of his Macon County hell,

Where brave soldiers stood

Only hollow people dwell,

It takes three to make a shadow

And five to give a yell,

The devil should be proud

Of his Macon County hell.

I still dream of home in Boston and my wife and children there

And never let a day go by without a solemn prayer,

That the love of man is stronger than the powder and the shell

And finds a way to save us from this Macon County hell.

But the hopelessness sticks to us

Like the mud beneath our feet,

While we watch through hardened eyes

As the endless days repeat.

And the Devil should be proud

Of his Macon County hell,

Where brave soldiers stood

Only hollow people dwell,

It takes three to make a shadow

And five to give a yell,

The devil should be proud

Of his Macon County hell.

Yes, the Devil should be proud

Of his Macon County hell.

WE'RE ALL A LITTLE SLOW

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

I saw you hide a little smile

When we first came around,

I'll bet you wonder how those bumpkins

Found their way to town,

I'll be the first to testify

What you already know,

That out there in the country

We are all a little slow.

Yes out there in the country

We are all a little slow,

We take the time to stop and watch

The rippling water flow,

We're slow to hate and slow to judge

The people that we know,

We fit in with our neighbors

'Cause we're all a little slow.

I'd like to take you home with us

To see our country life,

And share the peaceful cabin

With my children and my wife,

We say a prayer at suppertime

Like folks did long ago,

And give thanks to our maker

That we're all a little slow.

We're way behind the times

The hatred and the crimes,

In our little country cabin

Wrapped in wildflowers and vines.

Yes out there in the country

We are all a little slow,

We take the time to stop and watch

The prairie flowers grow,

We're slow to hate and slow to judge

The people that we know,

We fit in with our neighbors

'Cause we're all a little slow.

A COLD DAY IN HELL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In spring of eighteen forty-six

We set out for the sun,

To taste that California fruit

Before the fall was done,

We'd read about a cut-off

That would save us time and strife,

But the only things it cut off

Were our dreams and precious lives.

That new path slowed our wagons down

And days turned into weeks,

We knew that meant we'd face the wrath

Of frozen mountain peaks,

A mountain man had warned us

Not to try that unknown way,

But our leader wouldn't listen

To a word he had to say.

And now a cold day in hell

Stands in line to take its toll,

Like the demon days before it,

How we curse its evil soul,

We pray the Lord will free us

From the Devil's icy cell,

And never let us face

Another cold day in hell.

I wonder now if history

Will even know our name,

Or mark the tragic path

Where the Donner Party came.

Another cold day in hell

Stands in line to take its toll,

Like the demon days before it,

How we curse its evil soul,

We pray the Lord will free us

From the Devil's icy cell,

And never let us face

Another cold day in hell.

A JOHN DEERE DEAR JOHN

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Today, this old green tractor quickly turned my world to blue

It really plowed me under with this goodbye note from you,

The rising sun stopped shining, and left me sitting here

With an early morning heartbreak souvenir.

At the breaking of the dawn, I learned our love was gone

From this letter on the tractor seat you coldly laid it on,

Who could have expected, you'd leave me so dejected

Just staring at a John Deere Dear John.

I know I had it coming 'cause I stayed out way too late

Those nights of playing poker with my buddies sealed my fate,

But fools like me don't notice, what should be crystal clear

"Til it hits us like this heartache laying here.

At the breaking of the dawn, I learned our love was gone

From this letter on the tractor seat you coldly laid it on,

Who could have expected, you'd leave me so dejected

Just staring at a John Deere Dear John.

It's as icy as the tractor seat

You coldly laid it on,

You left me frozen solid with

Your John Deere Dear John.
A LITTLE HARD TO TAME

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

That Wild West sure turned wilder on one cold December day

When that little Kitty Leroy came into this world to play,

She practiced on the boys with her wild and flashing eyes

By the time she was a woman she had learned to hypnotize.

The first man she would marry, all the local people said

Was the only one who'd let her shoot an apple off his head,

But matrimony's bonds all too quickly came undone

And she ran off with a gambler to the California sun.

When they spoke of Kitty Leroy and her wild and stormy ways

Some called her an angel, some a devil from the blaze,

But anytime the men folk heard her legendary name

Everyone agreed, she'd be a little hard to tame.

It seems her gambler bored her, so she left him far behind

Then she cast her flashing eyes upon the next man she could find,

But in a crazy spat, Kitty gunned her lover down

Then she found someone to wed them as he lay there on the ground.

A wealthy Deadwood miner was the fourth one, we are told

And they say she lost her interest once she ran through all his gold,

But Kitty's end was near, with the fifth one she would wed

When she left him for another, he would leave poor Kitty dead.

When they spoke of Kitty Leroy and her wild and stormy ways

Some called her an angel, some a devil from the blaze,

But anytime the men folk heard her legendary name

Everyone agreed, she'd be a little hard to tame.
A THOUSAND MILES AWAY

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

That Tuesday in the twenties

When the roar turned to a scream,

Swept away those Wall Street traders

With the crashing of a dream,

But on that same October day

In Alabama's hills,

A couple didn't know

About declining dollar bills.

Yes, a thousand miles away

Underneath the cloudless skies,

A country boy was focused on

His darling Nancy's eyes,

He'd invested all his money

In a golden wedding band,

But knew he'd won a fortune

When she slipped it on her hand.

They say those Wall Street traders

Never even heard the bell,

In the screaming and the crying

Of that economic hell,

And when Black Tuesday ended

In its misery and defeat,

The children played with balls

Of ticker-tape out in the street.

But grandpa John and grandma Nancy

Loved to wander back,

To that Tuesday in their minds

That was anything but black.

Yes, a thousand miles away

Under clear October skies,

A country boy was focused on

His darling Nancy's eyes,

He'd invested all his money

In a golden wedding band,

But knew he'd won a fortune

When she slipped it on her hand.

A WHOLE DIFFERENT STORY

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

The raiders and the rebels

Back in eighteen sixty-two,

Left a story 'bout a stolen train

That never made it through,

I was there among the raiders

And believe forevermore,

That we could'a pulled it off

If we left the day before,

We planned to steal it Friday

And then burn the bridges down,

So the rebels couldn't follow us

To Chattanooga town,

'Cause our Union army forces

Planned to take it in a raid,

And we didn't want their trains

Bringing soldiers to their aid.

We stole fifty-seven tons

Of smokin' steamin' train,

Headed north to Chattanooga

In the early morning rain,

We stopped just short of victory

The Rebels got the glory,

Had we left the day before,

You'd read a whole different story.

We heard that it was storming

Up the Chattanooga way,

And our leader thought our Union boys

Might need another day,

So we waited for the morning

And we worried through the night,

Then we cursed the rain we saw

In the early morning light.

The day before was sunny

And the bridges would have burned,

And the trains were running right on time

Without the least concern,

But on Saturday, the rails were

Much too crowded up with trains,

And the bridge we tried to burn,

Simply smoldered in the rain.

We stole fifty-seven tons

Of smokin' steamin' train,

Headed north to Chattanooga

In the early morning rain,

We stopped just short of victory

The Rebels got the glory,

Had we left the day before,

You'd read a whole different story.
AMELIA

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

While other little Kansas girls

Picked flowers in the dew,

You looked up to the heavens

Where the birds of summer flew,

If only you could spread your arms

And join your feathered friends,

You'd fly up to the places

Where the freedom never ends.

Amelia, when you raised your eyes

And headed for the sky,

You took along our spirits

And you taught us how to fly,

Every time you spread your wings

Our hopes began to soar,

Far above the great depression

That was knocking at our door.

When nineteen-twenty rolled around

You took a little flight,

It lit a fire inside you

That became your guiding light,

And then in nineteen thirty-two

You studied ocean charts,

To cross the broad Atlantic

Where you landed in our hearts.

Just five short years would follow

When we heard the tragic word,

No longer would we fly beside

Our darling little bird.

Amelia, when you raised your eyes

And headed for the sky,

You took along our spirits

And you taught us how to fly,

Every time we think of you

Our hopes again will soar,

Even though we'll never fly with

Our Amelia anymore.

AN ARIZONA RANGER

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Son, I'm glad you're thinking

About riding with our boys,

We raise a little Holy Hell

And make a lot of noise,

But Arizona Rangering

Ain't fit for every man,

So think it over careful like

Before you join our band.

The reasons not to wear our star

Are more than just a few,

Like sleepin' in the rain

And getting' shot a time or two,

But if you've got the will to live

On prickly pear and danger,

Then you might have the makin's of

An Arizona Ranger.

You will meet the toughest

And the meanest in the West,

They'll crawl from ev'ry desert rock

And put you to the test,

That herding cows or farming crops

Don't neither one provide,

The feeling from that silver star

Of solid Ranger pride.

The reasons not to wear our star

Are more than just a few,

Like sleepin' in the rain

And getting' shot a time or two,

But if you've got the will to live

On prickly pear and danger,

Then you might have the makin's of

An Arizona Ranger.

Yes, if you've got the will to live

On prickly pear and danger,

Then you might have the makin's of

An Arizona Ranger

ANNE BONNY

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

When those Caribbean pirates

Sailed the seas so long ago,

They threw away their razors

And just let their whiskers grow,

They wore them long like Blackbeard

As a source of pirate pride,

But one of hist'ry's bravest

Couldn't grow one if she tried.

Anne Bonny was her name

A thorny Irish rose,

Wild and full of danger

Like the pirate's life she chose,

Lightning bolts flashed in her eyes

Like storms upon the sea,

To light her timeless journey

To a pirate legacy.

When the good Lord made Anne Bonny

Seems he threw away the mold,

He poured in all the courage

That a little girl could hold,

He added dash and daring

To stand up to any man,

And she became a beauty

With a cutlass in her hand.

Legends sometimes fade away

and dead men tell no tales,

But somewhere on the seas of time

Anne Bonny's spirit sails.

Anne Bonny was her name

A thorny Irish rose,

Wild and full of danger

Like the pirate's life she chose,

Lightning bolts flashed in her eyes

Like storms upon the sea,

To light her timeless journey

To a pirate legacy.

AUNT NANCY

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Back before we broke the bonds

Of British rule, we're told,

A Georgia woman let 'em know

We couldn't be controlled,

In the history books she's known

As Nancy Morgan Hart,

But everybody knew her as

Aunt Nancy 'round those parts.

Aunt Nancy towered six-foot tall

With hair of flaming red,

And folks agreed they'd sooner fight

A grizzly bear instead,

She'll never be accused

Of being feminine or fancy,

The good Lord never made

A tougher woman than Aunt Nancy.

One day Tory soldiers stopped

By Nancy's house to eat,

They shot the only turkey left

And threw it at her feet,

Then they stacked their muskets up

And boldly they sat down,

To lift their liquor glasses high

And toast the English crown.

While she cooked their meal, they sat

With sneers upon their lips,

Aunt Nancy stared back daggers with

Her hands upon her hips,

She'll never be accused

Of being feminine or fancy,

The good Lord never made

A tougher woman than Aunt Nancy.

Once the liquor took its hold

Her daughter went outside,

To summon up her father and

The neighbors far and wide,

When they came upon the scene

They saw Aunt Nancy smile,

While staring down a musket that

She'd taken from their pile.

Those Torys never got to eat

A bite of Nancy's bird,

While two were lying on the floor

Her gun was on a third,

She'll never be accused

Of being feminine or fancy,

The good Lord never made

A tougher woman than Aunt Nancy.
BANDIT BELLE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

With a bow in her hair and a blush on her cheek

Little Myra Belle learned both Latin and Greek,

But her daddy let the Youngers and the James boys stay

And they taught Myra Belle the desperado way.

Bandit Belle rode on a wing and a prayer

With a price on her head and a feather in her hair,

She had outlaws for in-laws, the best of the worst

Heaven called her name but the Devil got her first.

As the years galloped by like a bull on the run

Belle would trade her dolls for some twin-holstered guns,

She would stand beside three outlaws in her wedding dress

But they all left this world with bullets in their chest.

With her black-velvet skirt and a man's Stetson hat

Belle Starr roamed the West like a wild mountain cat,

She would ride along with legends of those outlaw bands

As she burned Bandit Belle in hist'ry with her brand.

Bandit Belle rode on a wing and a prayer

With a price on her head and a feather in her hair,

She had outlaws for in-laws, the best of the worst

Heaven called her name but the Devil got her first.
BARE FROM THE BEAR

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

On that raging Yellowstone

When trappers roamed the hills,

A man could wake up dead unless

He knew his frontier skills,

One eighteen-thirty autumn day

Would test those skills for sure,

When assumptions 'bout a grizzly

Were a little premature.

Once the bear fell to the ground

Across that river wide,

Two hunters knew they shot him dead

And ruffled up with pride,

They set their packs and rifles down

And stripped down to the skin

But across that raging river

Waited something else again.

They ran bare from the bear

When that carcass came alive,

Neither skinny dipper thought

That creature would revive,

They put those flyin' feet

Into frontier overdrive,

Runnin' bare from the bear

When that carcass came alive.

Joe Meek paddled up the stream

His buddy swirled down,

Just praying hard they wouldn't both

Get eaten up or drown,

The man upstairs who heard their prayers

They'd thank forever more,

"Cause that bitin' fightin' grizzly

Landed on the other shore.

They ran bare from the bear

When that carcass came alive,

Neither skinny dipper thought

That creature would revive,

They put those flyin' feet

Into frontier overdrive,

Runnin' bare from the bear

When that carcass came alive.
BENEATH THE YELLOW FLAGS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

When our nation tore apart and war began to rage

Golden-hearted angels flew across the battle stage,

Inside the homes and churches, with their tattered carpet bags

Dispensing tender mercies, beneath the yellow flags.

Beneath the yellow flags in that brutal Civil War

The uniforms of battle didn't matter anymore,

When cloth of blue or gray turned to crimson-coated rags

The battlefield angels worked beneath the yellow flags.

After pills were given and the bandages applied

Battle-weary angels prayed for souls of men who died,

Then smiled away their teardrops, though their spirits often sagged

And sang away the sorrow, beneath the yellow flags.

As two wounded men would heal, one blue and one in gray

Each would shake the other's hand, then head his separate way.

Beneath the yellow flags in that brutal Civil War

The uniforms of battle didn't matter anymore,

When cloth of blue or gray turned to crimson-coated rags

The battlefield angels worked beneath the yellow flags.
BLUEGRASS IN HEAVEN

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

The other night I dreamed I died

And left this life so dear,

I knocked upon those pearly gates

And called out loud and clear,

Is there bluegrass in heaven?

Are there festivals to see?

Can I hear that lonesome fiddle

Like I did in Tennessee?

Is there bluegrass in heaven?

Can I bring this banjo in?

Will those high lonesome tenors

Get to sing their songs again?

Are there dobro-playin' angels

And a dog-house bass inside?

If there's bluegrass in heaven

Swing those doors open wide.

The master said, of course there is!

Who'd think there wouldn't be?

With Lester Flatt and Carter Stanley

Living here with me,

Come on inside the mansion

Walk as fast as you can go,

They're just startin' Heaven's Opry

And we can't miss Bill Monroe.

Yes, there's bluegrass in heaven,

Bring that beat-up banjo in,

Hear our high-lonesome tenors

Sing those mountain songs again,

We have harmonizing angels

Who can leave you teary-eyed,

Sure, there's bluegrass in heaven

Bring your country soul inside.

Yes, there's bluegrass in heaven,

Bring that beat-up banjo in.

Hear our high-lonesome tenors

Sing those mountain songs again.

We have harmonizing angels

Who can leave you teary-eyed.

Sure, there's bluegrass in heaven

Bring your country soul inside.
BONES ON THE SAND

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

On their California journey

To that gold in the West,

One group of forty-niners

Thought a shorter route was best,

They split off from the others

Down a mountain range instead,

While the Devil smiled up

From his valley just ahead.

But their short-cut to the riches

Took the long way through Hell,

When they'd find food or water

Only time and fate would tell,

They sent two men exploring

To escape that barren land,

Knowing well if they would fail

They'd be bones on the sand,

Bones on the sand,

Just bones on the sand,

They had to make it out

Of that God-forsaken land,

Every inch of desert

Bore the Devil's own brand,

Yes, they had to make it out

Or be bones on the sand.

When at last they found a village

And returned for the rest,

Five hundred miles they'd traveled

Through a valley they named Death.

They thanked the god above them

As they left that dreadful land,

That the buzzards wouldn't feast

On their bones on the sand.

Bones on the sand,

Just bones on the sand,

They had to make it out

Of that God-forsaken land,

Every inch of desert

Bore the Devil's own brand,

Yes, they had to make it out

Or be bones on the sand.
BROKEN-HAND

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

They say the Blackfoot Nation

Still remembers to this day,

When a horse leaped right above them

And then galloped on its way,

They had that man surrounded

And they couldn't understand,

How a horse flew like an eagle

For the man named Broken-hand.

Those mountain men would climb where goats

and mountain lions stand,

And none climbed any higher than

The one called Broken-hand.

One day young Tom Fitzpatrick

Left his Irish home behind

For the promise of adventure

Of a Rocky Mountain kind,

He climbed up past the tree-line

Breathed the air and took a look,

Then he walked into the pages

Of our nation's history books.

A misfire from his rifle as

He fled a hostile band,

Would leave young Tom Fitzpatrick with

The name of Broken-hand

He climbed up every mountain

Then he climbed them all again,

'Til he came to know the country

Like an old familiar friend,

He studied like a scholar

For his Rocky Mountain test,

Then he guided the beginning

Of the settlers headed west.

While winds of time may blow away

Some heroes of our land,

The hills protect the legend of

The one called Broken-hand.

THE BUCKEYE BULLET

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Down on an Alabama farm

A baby would arrive,

That destiny would turn into

The fastest man alive,

In college up in Cleveland

Those Ohio fans would race,

To see their Buckeye Bullet

Put a trophy in their case.

When the Buckeye Bullet flew

Down that fabled German track,

He knew that thirteen million dreams

Were riding on his back,

Nineteen thirty-six would be

The year when all the world would see

The future breaking through

When that Buckeye Bullet flew.

When history would write his name

Beside the other greats,

A special note reminds us of

The fickle hands of fate,

Old Hitler's mustache spun around

The year his country gave,

Four shiny golden medals to

The grandson of a slave.

Somewhere in the mist of time

Where dreams are soaring high,

An eager crowd is waiting

to see Jesse Owens fly.

When the Buckeye Bullet flew

Down that fabled German track,

He knew that thirteen million dreams

Were riding on his back,

Nineteen thirty-six would be

The year when all the world would see

The future breaking through

When that Buckeye Bullet flew.

COCKEYED CHARLIE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Cockeyed Charlie was a legend in those California hills

And everybody heard about his stagecoach-driving skills,

They knew he cussed and chewed and he was ugly to the bone

But most folks said his driving was the best they'd ever known.

That California gold rush really caused some news to break

And no one will forget about that San Francisco quake,

But, ain't much, before or since, stirred up a bigger swirl

Than when Cockeyed Charlie died and they learned he was a girl.

Cockeyed Charlie drove those coaches

on the narrow mountain trails,

And riders often ended up with closely bitten nails,

But Charlie's horses helped him safely ride to Western fame,

Except the one that kicked his face and left him with that name.

They say young Charlotte Parkhurst knew

She'd have to change her looks,

To drive a six-horse stage into

Those Western history books.

Yes, that California gold rush

really caused some news to break,

And no one will forget about that San Francisco quake,

But, ain't much, before or since, stirred up a bigger swirl

Than when Cockeyed Charlie died and they learned he was a girl.

No, ain't much, before or since, stirred up a bigger swirl

Than when Cockeyed Charlie died and they found he was a girl.
COUNTRY IN DISGUISE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

All these glaring city lights

Can shine too bright at times,

And blind me to the colors

I carry in my mind,

Sometimes I have to shut 'em out

With my pretending eyes,

And think of city lights as merely

Country in disguise.

I see country colors

In all the city lights,

Flashing signs remind me

Of lightening bugs at night,

Neon-coated windows

Paint sunsets in my eyes,

In my mind, the city

Is just country in disguise.

When the headlights of the cars

Start burning in my head,

I turn them into sparkles

on a fishing lake instead,

And once more, I can shut 'em out

With my pretending eyes,

And turn these city lights back into

Country in disguise.

I see country colors

In all the city lights,

Flashing signs remind me

Of lightening bugs at night,

Neon-coated windows

Paint sunsets in my eyes,

In my mind, the city

Is just country in disguise.

Yes, in my mind, the city

is just country in disguise.
COUNTRY RADIO

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Time will never wash away

The sweet dreams Patsy cried,

Or tear apart the cheatin' heart

That tore Hank up inside,

Like all the rest who played their songs

On midday music shows,

They carved their notch in history

On country radio.

From the Louisiana Hayride

To the Ozark Jubilee,

A never-ending spotlight

Shines on the memory,

Of fiddle-playing farmers

And honky-tonk heroes,

Who filled the world with music

On country radio.

No one ever quite forgets

Just how it feels to be,

Tuned into the Opry

From Nashville, Tennessee,

When they turned that magic dial

The tubes began to glow,

And drifting through the static

Came country radio.

From the Louisiana Hayride

To the Ozark Jubilee,

A never-ending spotlight

Shines on the memory,

Of fiddle-playing farmers

And honky-tonk heroes,

Who filled the world with music

On country radio.

Yes, they filled the world with music

On country radio.
"CRAZY BET"

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

As you walked the streets of Richmond

While that war was raging on,

You had the locals all convinced

Your mortal mind was gone,

You talked to voices in the wind

With wild and crazy eyes,

But took in every word you heard

Beneath your bold disguise.

When you brought in books and biscuits

To those captured Union men,

The guards would watch you trade them books

And walk right out again,

You'd start your crazy act and leave

Their puzzled looks behind,

Not knowing Union soldiers wrote

In code between the lines.

Crazy Bet of Richmond town

They talk about you yet,

In muffled voices mixed with

Admiration and regret,

They say those rebel soldiers

Had no clue you were a threat,

As they shared their secret plans

While they laughed at Crazy Bet.

Once you'd gathered all the secrets

From the prisoners and their guards,

You'd take a basket full of eggs

Up north across your yard,

Yes, "Crazy Bet" would head out with

Her basket and her bag,

And military secrets tucked

Inside a hollow egg.

Crazy Bet of Richmond town

They talk about you yet,

In muffled voices mixed with

Admiration and regret,

They say those rebel soldiers

Had no clue you were a threat,

As they shared their secret plans

While they laughed at Crazy Bet.
CROWS AND CIRCUIT RIDERS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

This stormy day ain't fit, they say for any kind of creatures

But guaranteed, it won't impede those circuit-ridin' preachers,

They'll ride through wind and hail to reach believers and back-sliders

You won't see nothing out today but crows and circuit riders.

Through whirlwinds and blizzards you'll see circuit riders plod

They'd ride straight through a cyclone just to spread the word of God,

They plow up sin and evil as they cultivate the West

With a Bible in their saddlebags and passion in their chest.

No, this stormy day ain't fit, they say, for any kind of creatures

But guaranteed, it won't impede those circuit-ridin' preachers,

They'll ride through wind and hail to reach believers and back-sliders

You won't see nothing out today but crows and circuit riders.

They'll sleep out on the prairie and they rise before the sun

Then travel, preach and baptize all before their day is done,

The icy winds might freeze them but they seldom stop to rest

With a Bible in their saddlebags and passion in their chest.

No, this stormy day ain't fit, they say, for any kind of creatures

But guaranteed, it won't impede those circuit-ridin' preachers,

They'll ride through wind and hail to reach believers and back-sliders

You won't see nothing out today but crows and circuit riders.
DID THE BAND HAVE TO PLAY?

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Your fire monster slithered through Atlanta's streets last night

It's flaming tongue destroyed every timber left in sight,

I heard your soldiers cursing, then I heard my fam'ly pray

And somewhere in the distance I heard cheerful music play.

Tell me, Mister Sherman, did the band have to play?

And turn that dreadful scene into a tragic cabaret,

Did they need to harmonize

With our broken-hearted cries?

Tell me, Mister Sherman, did the band have to play?

I heard that sixty-thousand men stood proudly by the band

And kept time with our sorrow as the monster scorched the land,

But in our smoking rubble, I could hear another sound

Of grieving mothers' teardrops hissing softly on the ground.

Down here in the smoking ruins, we didn't need to hear those tunes

To sing our sad farewell to the fading Rebel Yell.

Tell me, Mister Sherman, did the band have to play?

And turn that dreadful scene into a tragic cabaret,

Did they need to play along

'Til our final dream was gone?

Tell me, Mister Sherman, did the band have to play?
DOWN IN THE CUT

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

For years they talked in Panama

Of cutting through the land,

They knew the kind of steel nerves

The project would demand,

The French would try from eighty-one

To eighteen eighty-nine,

And over twenty thousand men

Would leave their lives behind.

Down in the cut

Like fearless soldier ants,

They plugged the holes with dynamite

To watch the boulders dance,

They blazed their way from coast to coast

With fire in their gut,

To carve their notch in history

Down in the cut.

For fifteen years, the world would leave

That deadly ditch alone,

"Till Teddy Roosevelt would claim

The project as his own,

And once again, the boulders danced

As dynamite would roar,

While accidents and fever took

Their toll on thousands more.

At the start of nineteen-fourteen

A rusty crane boat sailed,

Across the locks of Panama

Where mankind had prevailed.

Down in the cut

Like fearless soldier ants,

They plugged the holes with dynamite

To watch the boulders dance,

They blazed their way from coast to coast

With fire in their gut,

To carve their notch in history

Down in the cut.

DOWN ON YASGUR'S DAIRY FARM

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Six hundred rolling acres

Back in nineteen sixty-nine,

Transformed from grass and cattle

To a famous music shrine,

They hosted freedom-loving souls

Who came from everywhere,

To wear their fav'rite summer smiles

And flowers in their hair.

Down on Yasgur's dairy farm

They danced beneath the sun,

In muddy clothes or none at all

Before their scene was done,

A half a million gathered there

Not meaning any harm,

To celebrate the Sixties

Down on Yasgur's dairy farm.

Six-hundred fifty cattle

Heard those towering amplifiers

When Sly danced to the music

And young Jimmy lit the fires,

Proud Mary kept on rollin' through

The middle of the night,

Then Gracie's rabbit hopped into

The Sunday morning light.

So many had predicted all

All the things that could go wrong,

But it ended up displaying

How the world might get along.

Down on Yasgur's dairy farm

They danced beneath the sun,

In muddy clothes or none at all

Before their scene was done,

A half a million gathered there

Not meaning any harm,

To celebrate the Sixties

Down on Yasgur's dairy farm.

FIGHT NO MORE FOREVER

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In the days before the fences

Spread like snakes across the land,

A Nez Perce leader realized

He'd made his final stand,

He recalled the treaties

Made and broken through the years,

When he found that promised land

All too often disappears.

He looked sadly at the faces

Of his people on the run,

Behind their frozen eyes he saw

Starvation had begun,

Fate had left him nothing

But the knowledge in his head,

That the benefits of war

Wouldn't pay for all the dead.

"I shall fight no more forever

From where the sun now stands,"

With these words, his world ended

And a tragedy began,

Chief Joseph saw pathetic shells

Where once his people stood,

He would fight no more forever

But forever wish he could.

Joseph's heart was filled with sorrow

And his soul forever yearned,

To see his peaceful valley, but

He never could return,

Through the years so many

Say they've heard the ghostly sound,

Of his spirit in the winds

That caress his promised ground.

"I shall fight no more forever

From where the sun now stands,"

With these words, his world ended

And a tragedy began,

Chief Joseph saw pathetic shells

Where once his people stood,

He would fight no more forever

But forever wish he could.
FIRE IN THE NIGHT

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Columbia, they burned you to the ground,

Though old Sherman made the promise

Not to burn your buildings down,

But with fever in their minds

And their pots of turpentine,

Columbia, they burned you to the ground.

There was fire, fire, fire in the night,

Drunken devils burning

Nearly everything in sight,

When Sherman lost control

Lord, they tried to burn your soul,

There was fire, fire, fire in the night.

Columbia, your spirit still remains,

Though the Yanks came rushing through you

Like a hell-bound hurricane,

But your courage never died

And you kept your southern pride,

Columbia, your spirit still remains.

There was fire, fire, fire in the night,

Drunken devils burning

Nearly everything in sight,

When Sherman lost control

Lord, they tried to burn your soul,

There was fire, fire, fire in the night.

But even though he lost control,

They could never touch your soul,

With their fire, fire, fire in the night.
GATORS, SNAKES AND SEMINOLES

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Only gators, snakes and Seminoles

Can live down in this swamp,

There's a hundred things that slither

And a thousand more that chomp,

Captain, don't you think this mission

Got out of control,

Let's leave this swampy hell to

Gators, snakes and Seminoles.

If we go past this sea of grass,

Down in those Everglades,

You know we'll be the victims of

Those crafty renegades,

There ain't no bloomin' reason

Why we need to go on down,

But I can name a million

Why we ought to turn around.

Only gators, snakes and Seminoles

Can live down in this swamp,

There's a hundred things that slither

And a thousand more that chomp,

Captain, I don't think they'd miss

One Indian patrol,

Just leave this swampy hell to

Gators, snakes and Seminoles.

They used to be five thousand strong

When they first took a stand,

Now there's just sev'ral hundred in

This God-forsaken land,

You know they'll keep on fighting

Right up to the bitter end

So why don't we just leave 'em

To their slimy-bellied friends.

Only gators, snakes and Seminoles

Can live down in this swamp,

There's a hundred things that slither

And a thousand more that chomp,

Captain, let's just turn around

And save our mortal souls,

And leave this swampy hell to

Gators, snakes and Seminoles.
GONE BEFORE THEY CAME

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

It was gone before they came,

That precious Klondike gold,

A hundred thousand headed out

To face the Yukon cold,

'Cross fifteen hundred frozen miles

They came to stake their claim,

To hear the locals tell them

It was gone before they came.

They left their plows behind,

Out rusting in the fields,

And headed north to set out on

Their pioneer ordeals,

From Frisco to Seattle

Like a frozen herd of cattle,

They set out for the fortunes

That the Klondike would reveal.

But it was gone before they came,

That precious Klondike gold,

Theyed walked away from everything

To see the tale unfold,

'Cross fifteen hundred frozen miles

They came to stake their claim,

To hear the locals tell them

It was gone before they came.

They braved the rugged slopes

And crossed the icy streams,

With minus-sixty winds that whipped

across the harsh ravines,

They headed north to heaven

Back in eighteen-ninety-seven,

But found the devil waiting

In that land of golden dreams.

Yes, it was gone before they came,

That precious Klondike gold,

They say some shed a silent tear

That hardened in the cold,

'Cross fifteen hundred frozen miles

They came to stake their claim,

To hear the locals tell them

It was gone before they came.
HAMMERS ON THE WALL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

The sound of freedom rang

Back in nineteen eighty-nine,

When the iron curtain crumbled

On Berlin's borderline,

The people came from east and west

To answer freedom's call,

And chip their way to liberty

With hammers on the wall.

Those hammers on the wall

Beat the rhythm of a song,

That echoed 'cross the land

While the wind sang along,

Every down-trodden soul

In the world heard it all,

The night freedom rang from

Those hammers on the wall.

The spirits of the dead

With their blood still in the ground,

Put their hearts into the hammers

And their souls in the sound,

And people of the east and west

In nations great and small,

Could hear the mighty ringing of

The hammers on the wall.

Those hammers on the wall

Beat the rhythm of a song,

That echoed 'cross the land

While the wind sang along,

Every down-trodden soul

In the world heard it all,

The night freedom rang from

Those hammers on the wall.

Yes, every ear in the world

Heard that iron curtain fall,

The night freedom rang from

Those hammers on the wall.

HARD-WINTER BLUES

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

I remember grandpa Jacob here in northern Indiana

Mending fences while the wind blew a low mournful sound,

As the freezing rain blew past him, I just shook my head and asked him

Don't these hard-living winters ever get your spirits down?

He said, These hard-winter blues could break your soul in two

And freeze you from your hat down to your shoes,

But I know, when summer comes, I'll be sittin' in the sun

Picking banjo and a singin' 'bout these hard-winter blues.

Now his fences all have fallen and his farm's a faded memory

But like bitter winter winds, grampa still comes around

In my memories, I'm near him and then once again I hear him

As these hard-living winters try to break my spirits down.

He said, These hard-winter blues could break your soul in two

And freeze you from your hat down to your shoes,

But I know, when summer comes, I'll be sittin' in the sun

Pickin' banjo and a singin' 'bout these hard-winter blues.

Yes, these hard-winter blues could break your soul in two

And freeze you from your hat down to your shoes,

But I know, when summer comes, I'll be sittin' in the sun

Pickin' banjo and a singin' 'bout these hard-winter blues.
HE COULDN'T LOSE THE WAR

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

'Twas back in eighteen sixty-one when Wilmer found the war

Where only peaceful shocks of corn had stood the day before,

That Civil War ignited on his old Manassas farm

Then Wilmer packed his family up and moved away from harm.

So Wilmer left Manassas and he found a place to stay

A sleepy little farming town down Appomattox way,

But don't you know that war would find him like it had before

No matter how poor Wilmer tried, he couldn't lose the war.

In April, eighteen sixty-five in Appomattox town

The war that took so many lives, at last was winding down,

The soldiers looked for someplace that was quiet and discreet

A peaceful little country farm where Lee and Grant could meet.

By afternoon, they found a spot and everyone agreed

That farmer Wilmer's little house would surely fit their need,

And so that mighty struggle with its years of death and gloom

Would only move from Wilmer's farm to Wilmer's living room.

Yes, Wilmer tried to lose the war and found a place to stay

A sleepy little farming town down Appomattox way,

But don't you know that war would find him like it had before

No matter how poor Wilmer tried, he couldn't lose the war.
HEARTACHES AND HANDCARTS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

A hundred-fifty years have passed

But stories still remain,

When dreams were packed in handcarts

And were pulled across the plains.

Their carts were not prepared in time,

And spring had passed them by,

They didn't start their journey

"Till the middle of July

Heartaches and handcarts

Still tell the tale,

Of the cold, cold winds

On the old Mormon Trail.

And by the time they drug the carts

Half way across the plains,

The autumn winds were blowing

And their strength began to wane.

October caught them unprepared

For bitter winter snow,

That stabbed its icy fingers

Deep into their frozen souls.

Heartaches and handcarts

Still tell the tale,

Of the cold, cold winds

On the old Mormon Trail.

November brought them peace at last

A Mormon team arrived,

To save the frozen brethren

Who had managed to survive.

Heartaches and handcarts

Still tell the tale,

Of the cold, cold winds

On the old Mormon Trail.
HE'D SURELY BE THERE STILL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Somewhere in those mountains, boys,

We'll find Geronimo,

We'll circle 'round and pin him down,

He'll have no place to go,

The army sent five thousand men

To find his mountain cover,

They looked in every cave and cove

But only found each other.

Where'd that Indian go boys?

Where'd that Indian go?

He ain't no ghost, just flesh and blood

We'll find Geronimo!

But they searched every inch of those

Sierra Madre Hills,

If he hadn't come down on his own

He'd surely be there still.

Three thousand troops from Mexico

Joined in to hunt him down,

They looked behind each rock they'd find

And every piece of ground,

Amigos, we will find him yet

You know he can't just vanish

But each Apache they surprised

Just turned out to be Spanish.

Where'd that Indian go boys?

Where'd that Indian go?

He ain't no ghost, just flesh and blood

We'll find Geronimo!

But they searched every inch of those

Sierra Madre Hills,

If he hadn't come down on his own

He'd surely be there still.
IN THAT CAROLINA DAWN

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

On April twelfth in sixty-one

Off Carolina's shore,

A silent early morning

Would be silent nevermore,

The balconies of Charleston

Filled up that fiery night,

To raise a hearty toast

To the dawning of the fight.

And somewhere in the living past

The frozen hands of time,

Still mark that fearful minute

When the whims of fate combined,

To spark a flame that raged until

'Most everything was gone,

Ignited by the shell

In that Carolina dawn.

In that Carolina dawn,

When the shell lit the sky,

All hope for peace was gone

In the blinking of an eye,

The men rose up to cheer,

While the women kneeled in prayer,

And the battle lines were drawn

In that Carolina Dawn

Yes, those Union forces held the fort

As bravely as they could,

'Til the smoke and fire ravaged

Through that tinderbox of wood.

In that Carolina dawn,

When the shell lit the sky,

All hope for peace was gone

In the blinking of an eye,

The men rose up to cheer

While the women kneeled in prayer,

And the battle lines were drawn

In that Carolina Dawn.

JUDGE PARKER'S ROPE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In Indian Territory

Back in eighteen seventy-five,

It was all a man could do

Just to keep himself alive,

The territory crawled with crooks

Of every shape and size,

And filled the Fort Smith paper full

Of folks to eulogize.

No white men was affected

By the territory's law,

And the Fort Smith Federal judge

Was the worst you ever saw,

The crooks would go before the court

But everybody knew,

They'd walk right out. again because

The judge was crooked too.

That land was full of whiskey peddlers

cattle thieves and bandits,

It got so bad no law abiding

Honest man could stand it,

The papers said no one could tame

That Indian territory,

But Judge Parker's rope

Wrote a whole different story.

From the day he started judging

'Til the day he left the room,

Isaac Parker swept the land

With his law-and-order broom,

And honest men and women lived

Their lives in peace and hope,

While others sometimes ended theirs

On Judge Parker's rope.

That land was full of whiskey peddlers

cattle thieves and bandits,

It got so bad no law abiding

Honest man could stand it,

The papers said no one could tame

The Indian territory,

But Judge Parker's rope

Wrote a whole different story.
THE COMSTOCK QUEEN

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In spring of eighteen sixty-three, along that Comstock Lode

Virginia City didn't have the highest moral code,

And when they heard another fallen angel fluttered down

They thought she'd join the others on the seedy side of town.

But Julia would join them in their fancy neighborhood

And show the gentle manners that a proper lady should,

She freely gave whenever worthy causes would appear

And helped to buy equipment for the firehouse volunteers.

Julia sparkled brighter than the silver in the mines

Even local gossips said she seemed a bit refined,

Beautiful and witty, she lit up Virginia City,

They never would forget

Their Julia Bulette.

Then on a fateful winter day, they found poor Julia dead

Her fancy gowns and jewelry gone, and bloodstains on her head,

When word of Julia's murder spread, throughout the afternoon

They draped the town for mourning, then they closed up their saloons.

The next day men folk took a bath and wore their Sunday best

To gather on a snowy day and lay their queen to rest,

They say that sixty firemen and the miners all combined

To sing their tearful version of "The Girl I Left Behind."

Julia sparkled brighter than the silver in the mines

Even local gossips said she seemed a bit refined,

Beautiful and witty, she lit up Virginia City,

They never would forget

Their Julia Bulette.
KENTUCKY COUSINS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

There were diamonds on the ground

They were scattered all around,

In eighteen-seventy-two,

Two cousins from Kentucky

Said they sure got lucky

When they found that precious view.

Those Kentucky cousins

Found diamonds by the dozens

Back in eighteen seventy-two.

Then the California fools

Where they brought their jewels,

Got fever in their brains,

They each paid a portion

'Til they raised a fortune

And they bought that diamond claim.

Yes, those Kentucky cousins

Had California buzzin'

Back in eighteen seventy-two.

But their tempers hit the roof

When they realized the truth,

'Bout their diamond field so grand.

Then they learned the cousins

Scattered diamonds by the dozens

On a worthless piece of land.

Yes, those Kentucky cousins

Planted diamonds by the dozens

Back in eighteen seventy-two.

When they looked around the town

In the bars and all around,

The cousins simply weren't in view.

They walked out of the picture

Six hundred thousand richer,

Back in eighteen seventy-two.

Yes those cousins from Kentucky

Really did get lucky

Back in eighteen seventy-two
LITTLE MARY'S GHOST

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Back in nineteen thirteen

On a cool September night,

The Devil's evil torch of death

Was starting to ignite,

Before the night was over

Its dreadful flames would roar,

And then Little Mary Phagan

Would lie dead upon the floor.

Little Mary, do you roam

In those darkened Georgia pines?

Are you hiding in the shadows

When that ghostly moonlight shines?

Do you pray that we will hear

What you want to tell us most,

The secret only known

By Little Mary's Ghost.

Suspects for your murder

Were beginning to expand,

A watchman and a janitor

Had blood upon their hands,

But rumors spread like ripples

On waiting river banks,

Casting doubt upon your Jewish

Supervisor, Leo Frank.

You left unanswered questions

Of your horror and abuse,

And Leo left this world

In a Vigilante's noose.

Little Mary, do you roam

In those darkened Georgia pines?

Are you hiding in the shadows

When that ghostly moonlight shines?

Do you pray that we will hear

What you want to tell us most,

The secret only known

By Little Mary's Ghost.

LIZZY CAN YOU SEE THEM?

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Back when little girls would dress

In fancy bows and lace,

They learned to bat their eyes

And walk with style and grace,

But while the others powdered up

To flirt and feminize,

Lizzy Stanton shook her head

And rolled her knowing eyes,

Lizzy wondered why her friends

Could never see the light,

She saw the way things were

And knew it wasn't right,

While politics and law degrees

Were only for the men,

Lizzy Stanton learned to use

The power of the pen.

Lizzy can you see them?

Living out your dreams,

They're C. E. O.'s and senators

And everything between,

Your crazy way of thinking

Wasn't crazy, so it seems,

Lizzy can you seem them?

Living out your dreams.

Lizzy told her women friends

To stand up for their rights,

She said the right to vote

Was clearly in their sights,

Her partner, Susan Anthony

Let everybody know,

Lizzy wrote the thunderbolts

That Susan B. would throw.

Lizzy can you see them?

Living out your dreams,

In every sport, the highest court

And everywhere between,

Your crazy way of thinking

Wasn't crazy, so it seems,

Lizzy can you seem them?

Living out your dreams.
LUCKY LINDY'S GIRL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Our Lone Eagle Soars

As you sail through the night,

You took your country with you

On your hist'ry making flight,

Icy winds might change your course

And storms may slow your speed,

But we know Lucky Lindy

And his Spirit will succeed.

Lucky Lindy, point your Spirit

T'ward that European shore,

Let her silver wings sail

And her brave engine roar,

She'll slice away the darkness

With a smooth propeller whirl,

And fly you into glory

Safe in Lucky Lindy's girl.

Your eyes nearly close

as the hours dwindle by,

So you fly near the white caps

Where it's "stay awake or die,"

Blinding fog might hide the stars

That point you to your prize,

But your St. Louis partner

Will become your Spirit eyes.

The evening lights of Paris

Flash a beacon to the world,

Saluting double heroes...

Lucky Lindy and his girl.

Lucky Lindy, and your Spirit

Made that European shore,

Let her silver wings sail

And her brave engine roar,

She sliced away the darkness

With a smooth propeller whirl,

And flew you into glory

Safe in Lucky Lindy's girl.

MARTHA JANE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Martha Jane had some rough and rowdy ways,

Back there in those wild and woolly days,

Before she learned to tie her shoe

She learned to spit and cuss and chew,

Yes, Martha Jane had rough and rowdy ways.

Martha Jane, she was anything but tame,

That's the way she got her famous name,

She could turn a quilting bee

To chaos and calamity,

Yes, Martha Jane, she was anything but tame.

Legends live and legends die

In the blinking of an eye,

Some just blow in with the wind

Then they drift away again,

But no one in the West forgot

The name of Martha Jane,

Their rompin' stompin' cigar-chompin'

Prairie hurricane.

Martha Jane, she could surely paint the town,

She'd pop a cork and pour the whiskey down,

She'd set out on the barroom trail

And track it to the local jail.

Yes, Martha Jane could really paint the town.

Martha Jane had a heart of solid gold,

Even though the story's seldom told,

She nursed the sick and buried the dead

When that awful smallpox spread,

Martha Jane, had a heart of solid gold.

Legends live and legends die

In the blinking of an eye,

Some just blow in with the wind

Then they drift away again.

But no one in the West forgot

The name of Martha Jane,

Their rompin' stompin' cigar-chompin'

Prairie hurricane.

MEMORY-KILLING TIME

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

I pulled up a chair for one and ordered drinks for two,

Drank mine to your memory, then I drank yours for you,

I know this neon target range won't cure my painful mind

But with each shot I take, I leave a memory behind.

So barkeep, load another round

Shooting memories ain't a crime,

Just set me up to shoot 'em down

It's memory-killin' time.

Once this barroom smoke has cleared, I'll stop to look around

Finding broken memories all scattered on the ground,

I know I can't keep living life inside these barroom walls

But every time I aim my glass, another memory falls.

So tomorrow night you'll find me

Right back here again,

Loading up my crystal guns

To shoot 'em down again.

Yes barkeep, load another round

Shooting memories ain't a crime,

Just set me up to shoot 'em down

It's memory-killin' time.
MISTER SUTTER

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

It came in eighteen forty-nine

Near Sutter's Mill were told,

That wild and crazy scramble

For the California gold,

They swarmed across the land

From every cattle farm and town,

To plant their picks and shovels

In that treasure-laden ground.

When Marshall found those nuggets in

The river by the mill,

You pictured what could happen

And you felt a bitter chill,

You worried for your land

And all the plans you held so dear,

To build yourself an empire

In that fertile new frontier.

Mister Sutter, you were right

It was truly uncontrolled,

You lost your land and workers

As the crazy thing unrolled,

They say you cussed and mumbled

And you couldn't be consoled,

But Mister Sutter, did you ever think

Of looking for the gold?

You tried to keep your secret safe

And build your little town,

But soon the word would scatter

Like the leaves upon the ground,

The farmers didn't wait

To put their rusting plows away,

And sailors left their ships out

On the San Francisco Bay,

A half a million hunters came

To find their shining dreams,

With picks and pans they covered

Every river bank and stream,

They say you packed your bags

And left your buildings to decay,

And cursed the hand of fortune

As you sadly moved away.

Mister Sutter, you were right

It was truly uncontrolled,

You lost your land and workers

As the crazy thing unrolled,

They say you cussed and mumbled

And you couldn't be consoled,

But Mister Sutter, did you ever think

Of looking for the gold?
MOUNTAIN-LOVIN' HEART

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

He wanted to be first, he said

To see the wondrous sights,

Follow rivers to their sources

And the mountains to their heights,

At twenty-two young Jedediah

Couldn't wait to start,

With his rifle and his Bible

And his mountain-lovin' heart.

His mountain-lovin' heart

Could be found the year-around,

In the Rockies or Sierras

Always seeking higher ground,

At the mention of adventure

He was ready to depart,

With his rifle and his Bible

And his mountain-lovin' heart.

Although his life was danger-filled

He managed to survive,

Native arrows almost got him

But he made it out alive,

A grizzly bear once left his ear just

Hanging by the skin,

So he had his mountain buddy

Simply sew it back again.

Yes, Jedediah's eyes

Would see the great unseen,

From mountain top to mountain top

And everywhere between.

His mountain-lovin' heart

Could be found the year-around,

In the Rockies or Sierras

Always seeking higher ground,

At the mention of adventure

He was ready to depart,

With his rifle and his Bible

And his mountain-lovin' heart.

MUTINY ON THE AMISTAD

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Time has washed the bloody decks

And rusted out the chains,

Yet on the tongues of sailing men

The legend still remains,

About that brutal mutiny

The worst they ever had,

Just four days out of Cuba

On the schooner, Amistad.

And the mutiny on the Amistad

Continues through the years,

And will until the bondage of

injustice disappears,

Like freedom revolutions

'Round the world, across the years,

Nothing short of fair and equal

Stops persistant mutineers.

Freedom roared with anger that

No shackles could confine,

Aboard that wretched vessel back

In eighteen thirty-nine,

The cargo from the hold became

The captains of the ship,

And let their former captors

Know the burning of the whip.

Now the memories have faded of

That fateful overthrow.

When lightening flashed across the deck

And thunder rolled below.

Yes the mutiny on the Amistad

Continues through the years,

And will until the bondage of

injustice disappears,

Like freedom revolutions

'Round the world, across the years,

Nothing short of fair and equal

Stops persistant mutineers.

MY KNIFE IS ALWAYS LOADED

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Kentucky born, Missouri bred,

Louisiana raised,

A young Jim Bowie set his course,

Back in his childhood days.

He'd ride the wild horses

Like a spirit on the run,

Then rope some alligators

For a little evening fun.

He would cut away a legend

With the steel of his blade,

And slice his way through Texas

Riding history's parade,

As guns around him emptied

When their charge had exploded,

Bowie said, "I'm mighty glad

My knife is always loaded."

In eighteen twenty-seven, in

a Mississippi fight,

With guns discharging 'round him like

The devil's dynamite,

He thanked the god above him

He'd remembered to conceal,

A knife his brother gave him

With a nine-inch blade of steel.

He blazed the path to Texas

Through a little mission door.

And wrote his story on its walls

To read forever more.

Yes, he cut away a legend

With the steel of his blade,

And sliced his way through Texas

Riding history's parade,

As guns around him emptied

When their charge had exploded,

Bowie said, "I'm might glad

My knife is always loaded."

MYSTERIOUS DAVE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

You rolled in from the East

Like a west-bound tidal wave,

Soon everybody knew you

As Mysterious Dave,

Monday, you'd spread law and order

Far across the plains,

Then put your mask on Tuesday

While you stole from the trains.

You walked both sides of the law

Mysterious Dave,

You never could decide

From the cradle to the grave,

If you wanted to be wild

Or you wanted to behave,

You walked both sides of the law

Mysterious Dave.

You roamed from town to town

Like a blowing tumble weed,

And fought a constant battle

Between conscience and greed,

Wednesday, you'd warn stage-coach drivers

Watch those robber bands,

Then rob that stage on Thursday

With your guns in your hands.

Then, you faded from the scene

Just as sudden as you came,

All you left behind you

Was your legend and your name.

You walked both sides of the law

Mysterious Dave,

You never could decide

From the cradle to the grave,

If you wanted to be wild

Or you wanted to behave,

You walked both sides of the law

Mysterious Dave.

NO ORDINARY RIDE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

One cool Montgomery afternoon

In nineteen fifty-five,

The bus on Cleveland Avenue

Was scheduled to arrive,

The driver turned the wheel and pulled

It slowly to the side,

Not yet aware this stop would bring

No ordinary ride.

That bus was bound to take a trip

Across a great divide,

Where hateful stares and desperate prayers

Were destined to collide,

The burdens of ten million souls

Were bottled up inside,

Fate would see that this would be

No ordinary ride.

That driver let some white folks on

And drove a little while,

Then noticed in his mirror that some

Were standing in the aisle,

Without a thought, he stopped the bus

And moved the little sign,

That everyone aboard knew as

The race dividing line.

Three people from that row

Would give their seats away,

But the fourth would tell the driver

That was where she planned to stay.

That bus was bound to take a trip

Across a great divide,

Where hateful stares and desperate prayers

Were destined to collide,

The burdens of ten million souls

Were bottled up inside,

Fate would see that this would be

No ordinary ride.

ON THAT SCHOOLHOUSE YARD

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Outside their classroom windows

Back in nineteen fifty-seven,

The students saw the members

Of the Arkansas Guard,

Surrounding birds and flowers

Underneath the stately maples,

Three-hundred-fifty soldiers

Watched that schoolhouse yard.

On that schoolhouse yard

The future never waited,

The past had run its course

For the haters and the hated,

That mighty nine at Little Rock

Knew change was coming hard,

As they walked into tomorrow

On that schoolhouse yard.

Inside their classroom windows

There were times when courage faded,

And souls were nearly broken

As the going got hard,

But headed for the future

Pushing steady like a glacier,

The leading edge of freedom

Crossed that schoolhouse yard.

Though the months ahead were bitter

Filled with anger and attacks,

That Little Rock Nine

Carried history on their backs.

On that schoolhouse yard

The future never waited,

The past had run its course

For the haters and the hated,

That mighty nine at Little Rock

Knew change was coming hard,

As they walked into tomorrow

On that schoolhouse yard.

OUR OLD MELTING POT

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

The statue in the harbor

Gave a prayer and bowed her head,

Our fighting eagle stood alert

And spread his wings instead,

Off somewhere in the distance

Chimed a slightly broken bell,

And our pot began to bubble

When the first tower fell.

No, our old melting pot

Never worked like they planned,

We've fought among ourselves

Since our country began,

We're still black and white

And we're red and yellow too,

But when you boil us down

We come out red, white and blue.

The passions of the moment

Brought our colors to a boil,

And painted shades of brotherhood

Across the common soil,

We felt the flames of anger

As we faced the fires of hell,

We melted back together

When the next tower fell.

No, our old melting pot

Never worked like they planned,

We've fought among ourselves

Since our country began,

We're still black and white

And we're red and yellow too,

But when you boil us down

We come out red, white and blue.

Yes, we're still black and white,

And we're red and yellow too,

But when you boil us down

We come out red, white and blue.

OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF MIND

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

I've always heard that time

Heals the wounds of the heart,

But the ticking of the clock

Is just tearing me apart,

When you packed up your love

You left some memories behind,

Since you've gone from my sight

I've gone out of my mind.

Out of sight, out of mind

I hear that from my friends,

Let time run its course

And my heartaches will mend,

But the clock on my wall

Is set on never-ending time,

Since you've gone from my sight

I've gone out of my mind.

I know you're really gone

But I still see your face,

In the hallways and the rooms

Of this cold and lonely place,

If time's trying to heal me

It's fallen way behind,

Since you've gone from my sight

I've gone out of my mind.

Out of sight, out of mind

I hear that from my friends,

Let time run its course

And my heartaches will mend,

But the clock on my wall

Is set on never-ending time,

Since you've gone from my sight

I've gone out of my mind,

Since you've gone from my sight

I've gone out of my mind.
PEG-LEG ANNIE MORROW

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

One summer day in Rocky Bar, on her daddy's back she came

The miners up in Idaho would soon know Annie's name,

When she became a woman-child, the miner's sought her hand

But Billy Morrow was her love; beside him should would stand.

She would soon be Annie Morrow

She'd marry him tomorrow,

Pretty Annie Morrow.

But sunshine wouldn't last for long and dark clouds took its place

'Cause Billy's temper left both tears and scars upon her face,

She tried to lose her sadness in an alcoholic haze,

And started selling favors to support her shameful ways.

She was drunken Annie Morrow

Who mixed her drinks with sorrow,

Drunken Annie Morrow.

In May of eighteen ninety-six while storm clouds swirled above

She headed 'cross Bald Mountain with another soiled dove,

A late-spring blizzard took her friend with gusts of winter death

While Annie stayed back with her 'til she took her final breath.

She was fearless Annie Morrow

Who lived to see tomorrow,

Fearless Annie Morrow.

When miners freed poor Annie from her prison in the snow

The doctor said to save her life, her feet would have to go,

The whole town rallied 'round her now and proudly spoke her name

And put their local hero in their mountain hall of fame,

She was Peg-leg Annie Morrow

No longer wrapped in sorrow,

Peg-leg Annie Morrow.
PIECES OF BREAD

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Back before the Civil War

He played his childhood games,

But Frederick, at the age of six

Would never be the same,

His happy childhood ended

When his slavery began,

He stopped living for himself

And started working for the man.

Eating from a wooden trough

And sleeping on the floor,

He grew to hate that way of life

And long for something more,

Some poor white boys would trade him

Reading lessons for his bread,

So he offered them his lunch

To put some words inside his head.

He traded...pieces of bread

For words to fill his mind,

He knew he had to learn to read

To leave his life behind,

His body felt the hunger

But he fed his mind instead,

When he bought his key to freedom

With those...pieces of bread.

Once he learned to read, he soaked

Up everything in sight,

The papers, books and essays lit

A bright eternal light,

He suffered through the beatings

While he dreamed what life could be,

'Cause he knew inside his heart

One day those words would set him free.

In fall of eighteen thirty-eight

At last he broke away,

And stepped into the history books

We all still read today,

They tell us of his greatness

But one thing's not always said,

Frederick Douglas bought his fame

With little pieces of his bread.

He traded...pieces of bread

For words to fill his mind,

He knew he had to learn to read

To leave his life behind,

His body felt the hunger

But he fed his mind instead,

When he bought his key to freedom

With those...pieces of bread.
POKER ALICE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Young Alice was a rose

Like the gentle kind that grows

On the English countryside,

When she came across the sea

She was dainty as could be

And extremely dignified.

But Alice kinda changed,

She's been kinda rearranged,

By the hands her life was dealt,

Now she's smoking big cigars,

Dealing poker in the bars

With a pistol on her belt.

You can find Poker Alice

In her smoky little palace,

People come from miles around.

'Cause the wild card queen

Beats all they've seen,

When she wheels and deals 'em down.

Now Alice, I suppose

Is still a dainty little rose

Underneath her dusty skin,

And the boys in the game

Say they love her just the same

While she rakes their money in.

Yes, they love Poker Alice

In her smoky little palace

And they come from miles around.

'Cause the wild card queen

Beats all they've seen,

When she wheels and deals 'em down.

Yes, that wild card queen

Beats all they've seen,

When she wheels and deals 'em down.
RED CLOUD'S WAR

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Long before the winds of change

Came rushing through our lives,

Side by side, the red and white

Had managed to survive,

But then Montana glittered

Like a golden Jezebel,

Pulling whites across our homeland

With the power of her spell.

Forever we could keep

Our land and buffalo,

Those promises and pledges

Simply melted like the snow,

But though we lost the mountains

Where the golden eagles soar,

We'll never lose the memory

Of Red Cloud's war.

Back in eighteen sixty-six

When Red Cloud took a stand,

Thunder rolled and lightning bolts

exploded 'cross the land,

Then when that storm had settled

And our people looked around,

Neither army forts nor soldiers

Stood upon our hallowed ground.

The years have stripped our honor

And possessions, one by one,

But left the glory of

The only major war we won.

Forever we could keep

Our land and buffalo,

Those never-ending treaties

Died so many years ago,

But though the rippling rivers

Aren't Lakota anymore,

We'll never lose the memory

Of Red Cloud's war,

ROUGH & READY

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In a town called Rough and Ready

They had wild and crazy ways,

There were gold-mad forty-niners

There were girls with wayward ways,

Some had Bibles in their pockets,

Some had gun-belts on display,

But they fought and prayed together

In those Rough and Ready days.

One solemn day they gathered in the graveyard,

Everyone in Rough and Ready came,

When they pushed the shovel down

Something glittered in the ground,

So they let the preacher talk

While they started staking claims.

In a town called Rough and Ready

They had wild and crazy ways,

There were gold-mad forty-niners

There were girls with wayward ways,

Some had Bibles in their pockets

Some had gun-belts on display,

But they fought and prayed together

In those Rough and Ready days

Way back in eighteen-fifty they seceded,

No one's really sure quite why they did,

They just up and broke away

But on Independence Day,

They all raised the stars and stripes

And joined right back up again.

Yes, in that town called Rough and Ready

They had wild and crazy ways,

There were gold-mad forty-niners

There were girls with wayward ways,

Some had Bibles in their pockets

Some had gun-belts on display,

But they fought and prayed together

In those Rough and Ready days.

SHE BLESSED US WITH ASSURANCE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

You can open up a hymnal

From most any kind of church,

And find Fanny Crosby's name

Reappearing as you search,

"Pass Me Not, O Gentle Savior"

Calls out sweet and tenderly,

And "Safe in the Arms of Jesus"

Is as timeless as the sea.

But the clouds in the skies

Never graced Fanny's eyes,

And she never got to see the setting sun,

But she clearly saw the promise

Of a light that never dims,

And she blessed us with assurance

Through her everlasting hymns.

In the spring of eighteen-twenty

Through a doctor's oversight,

Fannie laid there in her crib

Robbed forever of her sight,

But she never lived in pity

Even as a little girl,

And she lit the way for others

As she journeyed through the world.

She would pray for God's assistance

Every time she'd start to write,

As she gazed into the darkness

She would always see his light,

Once she clapped her hands with pleasure

As her thoughts began to form,

"Why, that say's Blessed Assurance,"

And another hymn was born.

No the clouds in the skies

Never graced Fanny's eyes,

And she never got to see the setting sun,

But she clearly saw the promise

Of a light that never dims,

And she blessed us with assurance

Through her everlasting hymns.

"SMASH LADIES SMASH"

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Back in nineteen hundred

Carrie led her first brigade,

They marched, prayin' and a singin'

Through the swinging doors of fate.

She cried, "Smash, ladies, smash,"

There are bottles left to bash,

Nothing else could match it

When Miss Carrie grabbed her hatchet,

And went singin' and a swingin'

Crying, "Smash, ladies, smash."

When Miss Carrie came a calling

She had fire in her eyes,

She'd start hackin' and a choppin'

At the liquid merchandise.

Crying, "Smash, ladies, smash,"

There are bottles left to bash,

Nothing else could match it

When Miss Carrie grabbed her hatchet,

And went singin' and a swingin'

Crying, "Smash, ladies, smash."

They threw her into prison

Thirty times throughout the years,

But she kept right on a whackin'

At the whiskey and the beers.

Crying, "Smash, ladies, smash,"

There are bottles left to bash

Nothing else could match it

When Miss Carrie grabbed her hatchet,

And went singin' and a swingin'

Crying, "Smash, ladies, smash."

Yes, she went singin' and a swingin'

Crying, "Smash, ladies, smash."
SOMEWHERE TO THE WEST

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In spring of eighteen forty-one, across our nation's plains

A party headed westward with a lot more nerve than brains,

They'd heard of California with its wonders on display

They knew everything about it, but they didn't know the way.

It lay somewhere to the west; that's all they really knew

They had the will to make it but they didn't have a clue,

Their ignorance was awesome but their courage stood the test

They only knew that golden state lay somewhere to the west.

They teamed up with another group who'd thought to hire a guide

Who led them 'cross the prairie and that Rocky Mountainside,

At Soda Springs they parted, only hearing word of mouth

To avoid the northern canyons and the deserts to the south.

Like the clueless way they started

Unconcerned and unaware,

They crossed into California

Without knowing they were there.

It lay somewhere to the west; that's all they really knew

They had the will to make it but they didn't have a clue,

They pressed on to the sunset, young John Bidwell and the rest

And only knew that golden state lay somewhere to the west.
SOUTHERN WALL OF GRANITE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

The word was out in Washington

There's gonna to be a fight,

So they headed out to watch it

In the middle of the night,

They came in gowns with parasols

And suits with walking canes,

To cheer their boys to vict'ry in

The army's first campaign.

Those southern boys can't fight

They said, they're slower than molasses,

Our troops will send the running home

To cry about Manassas,

Yes, They just knew their soldiers

Were the toughest on the planet,

But that's before they ran into

That southern wall of granite.

From on the Heights of Centerville

They waited for the show,

With their opera glasses focused

On the countryside below,

Our union boys, will mop them up

They're sure to win the fight,

Within an hour, I'll bet we'll see

The rebel boys in flight.

It seems those southern boys could fight

With fearsome counteraction,

And stood like mountains, right beside

Their leader, "Stonewall" Jackson,

Those southern boys can't fight,

They said, they're slower than molasses.

Our troops will send the running home

To cry about Manassas,

Yes, they just knew their soldiers

Were the toughest on the planet,

But that's before they ran into

That southern wall of granite.

STONECYPHER ROAD

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Back in nineteen seventy

With music-making schemes,

A group of friends put up a barn

From broken boards and dreams,

The word spread like a forest fire

To every house and farm,

There's bluegrass music cookin' in

The Everetts' Music Barn.

Off Stonecypher Road

Where the Everett boys sang,

Randall's guitar kept the time

And Roger's banjo rang,

Sally Goodin danced,

Pearly Blue lived down the road,

In the Everett Brothers' barn

Where the bluegrass music flowed

Right beside the local groups

The big ones played there too,

The Osbornes and the Lost and Found

To only name a few,

The country boys and city folks

And young and old combined,

They all came to that barn to have

A high and lonesome time.

Off Stonecypher Road

Where they gathered up a band,

Roger learned to fiddle like

The finest in the land,

Sally Goodin danced'

Pearly Blue lived down the road,

In the Everett Brothers' barn

Where the bluegrass music flowed.

As we fill those walls with music

What a debt they are owed,

For their little music barn

Off Stonecypher Road.

STONES OF HAIL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

He painted stones of hail

On his horse before the chase,

And a yellow lightning bolt

Down the left side of his face,

As his battles turned to legends

Many men would tell the tale,

Of the warrior made of lightning

Riding in on stones of hail.

Crazy Horse was born a warrior

And he'd never understand,

Why they slaughtered all the buffalo

Across his native land,

So he met the future face-to-face

And fought it hand-to-hand,

He was born to be a warrior

And was bound to take a stand.

He painted stones of hail

On his horse before the chase,

And a yellow lightning bolt

Down the left side of his face,

As his battles turned to legends

Many men would tell the tale,

Of the warrior made of lightning

Riding in on stones of hail.

He was called a gentle warrior

By his family and friends,

But the soldiers near the Big Horn, called

Him something else again,

'Cause they met their future face-to-face

And lost it hand-to-hand,

And they saw his lightning flashing

As they took their final stand.

He painted stones of hail

On his horse before the chase,

And a yellow lightning bolt

Down the left side of his face,

As his battles turned to legends

Many men would tell the tale,

Of the warrior made of lightning

Riding in on stones of hail.
STRONG-HEARTED WOMAN

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

From the wild Lost River Valley

Back when spirits ruled the land,

You grew up in the Northwest

In our fearless Modoc band,

While other girls picked berries

And tied ribbons in their hair,

You loved to run with warriors

And hunt deadly grizzly bear.

Oh Strong-hearted Woman

We still talk about your skill,

As you forged the raging rapids

In the rugged winter chill,

How you charged into your battles

With a rock-solid will,

And your strong-hearted spirit

Resides among us still.

As the winds of war came raging

You could feel the bitter cold,

From storm clouds of the future

That our people had foretold,

But you pleaded with our warriors

And the soldiers more than once,

For peace and understanding

On the bloody battlefronts.

When you saw a man of peace

About to loose his mortal life,

Without a thought, you saved him from

A fearful warrior's knife.

Yes Strong-hearted Woman

We still talk about your skill,

As you forged the raging rapids

In the rugged winter chill,

How you charged into your battles

With a rock-solid will,

And your strong-hearted spirit

Resides among us still.

SUPERSTITION MOUNTAIN

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In the mist of Superstition Mountain

They say a Thunder God protects the gold,

Men have climbed its rocky face

To disappear without a trace,

As Superstition Mountain

Collects another soul.

Superstition Mountain,

Will you ever let them find,

The treasure that you're hiding

From the seekers of your mine?

Will you ever let them see

The sparkle and the shine,

Or hide their souls forever

High above your timberline?

On the cliffs of Superstition Mountain

They say the Dutchman's ghost protects his gold,

Men have wondered through its caves

Digging tunnels to their graves,

As Superstition Mountain

Collects another soul.

Superstition Mountain,

Will you ever let them find

The treasure that you're hiding

From the seekers of your mine?

Will you ever let them see

The sparkle and the shine,

Or hide their souls forever,

High above your timberline?
THAT DEAD-END ROAD

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Bonnie lived a life of boredom in her little Texas town

Until she met a man who said he'd turn her world around,

Clyde promised her a future where adventure overflowed

So they headed out to find it on that dead-end road.

Side-by-side and gun-to-gun

Those lovers never slowed,

They couldn't wait to start out

On that dead-end road.

So they headed 'cross the country with the lawmen on their tail

And left a bloody path behind to mark their bandit trail,

As friends and fam'ly joined them on their lawless episodes

They would carve their names in hist'ry on that dead-end road.

Side-by-side and gun-to-gun

Those lovers never slowed,

They couldn't wait to get back

On that dead-end road.

And the body count grew higher as they raced along their way

They killed two men on Easter and another Christmas day,

That road at last would run out and their plans would all explode

In a hailstorm of bullets on that dead-end road.

Side-by-side from every gun

Those bullets never slowed

Until they took those lovers

Off that dead-end road
THAT LETTER FROM THE JAIL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Martin said it all

In that letter from the jail,

Setting loose a freedom train

That time could not derail,

Too full of steam to stop

Too full of truth to fail,

With seven thousand words

In that letter from the jail.

In the margins of a paper in that solitary cell

The silent lines of ink, would slowly cast their spell,

Like the man who gave them birth, their mission would begin

To show the force of brotherhood and power of the pen.

Yes, Martin said it all

In that letter from the jail,

Stirring up the breezes for

A liberation gale,

Too full of steam to stop

Too full of truth to fail,

With seven thousand words

In that letter from the jail.

When they threw him in seclusion on that fateful April day

They had no way to know, the force they'd locked away,

With a cold metallic ring, that iron door would slam

And set the stage of hist'ry in that jail in Birmingham.

Yes, Martin said it all

In that letter from the jail,

Leading other souls along

Emancipation Trail,

Too full of steam to stop

Too full of truth to fail,

With seven thousand words

In that letter from the jail.
THAT OKLAHOMA RUN

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

They gathered up in Arkansas

In eighteen eighty-nine,

And on the Texas border

They were waiting on the line,

For the bugle man to start 'em

In the noon-day sun,

To claim their promised land

In that Oklahoma run.

Then they all did that Oklahoma run,

With a mighty cloud of dust, it had begun,

When that dust had cleared the air,

There wasn't anybody there,

They were all doing that Oklahoma run.

Some climbed into the Santa Fe

And filled the crowded cars,

With dreams about their futures

And the smoke of their cigars,

They came jumpin' out the windows

As the train slowed down,

To run and drive their stakes

In that Oklahoma ground.

Yes, they all did that Oklahoma run,

As they claimed their quarter sections one by one,

Most had started fair and square,

But some were already there,

In that wild and crazy Oklahoma run.

They staked their claims and held their ground

Throughout the afternoon,

Then looked around in wonder

With the rising of the moon,

Where just prairie dogs and coyotes

Had walked on that ground,

Ten thousand evening fires

Showed the makin's of a town.

Yes, they all did that Oklahoma run,

With the passing of a day, the deal was done,

There were boomers everywhere,

Not a spot of land to spare,

When they finished with that Oklahoma Run.
THAT OLD FRONT DOOR

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Way back in old New Mexico

The records testify,

A man, Elfego Baca, lived

Like he could never die,

Trapped inside a little house

That lawman held his ground,

As nearly eighty cowboys

Tried to shoot the building down.

There'd be four hundred bullets

In that old front door,

In the walls of the house

Would be three thousand more,

They all knew Elfego

Would lie dead on the floor,

As they emptied their guns

In that old front door.

He'd walked up on a vicious mob

Who terrorized the land,

And hauled away the leader of

That lawless outlaw band,

Soon that cowboy's rowdy friends

Had poor Elfego trapped,

With a lightning storm of bullets

And a thousand thunder claps.

Protected by a sunken floor,

He fought throughout the night,

'Till a local lawman stopped it

In the early morning light.

There were four hundred bullets

In that old front door,

In the walls of the house

There were three thousand more,

They all knew Elfego

Would lie dead on the floor,

'Til he walked like a ghost

Out that old front door.

THAT SHINY WOODEN BOX

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

From that shiny wooden box

In the corner of the room,

Came the gentle glow of tubes

Like a lantern in the gloom.

That glow fell on the thirties

When our hearts were on the rocks,

Then it calmed the anxious forties

From that shiny wooden box.

That glow would live inside our minds

To warm our worlds a while,

While Benny, Burns and Allen

Never failed to make us smile,

We never saw The Shadow

But we knew he'd save the day,

'Cause our after-school heroes

Always chased the crooks away.

We'd find that inner sanctum door

And peek in through the crack,

Then tune in Sergeant Friday

As he analyzed the facts,

We made up all our scen'ry

As we galloped 'cross the West,

To see our Marshal Dillon

Pin that star upon his chest.

That wooden box would help us leave

Our troubled world behind,

As we traveled on its signal

Through the wonders of our mind.

From that shiny wooden box

In the corner of the room,

Came the gentle glow of tubes

Like a lantern in the gloom,

That glow fell on the thirties

When our hearts were on the rocks,

Then it calmed the anxious forties

From that shiny wooden box.
THAT WIDE-OPEN WEST

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

The wild western life

Came a knockin' at my door,

With its dreams of open spaces

And its mountains to explore,

Though I was born a slave

Lincoln's war had set me free,

And I knew just what I wanted

And right where I had to be.

I packed up my gear

And I headed for the sun,

First I learned to break the horses

Then I learned to shoot a gun,

On Independence day

In that little Deadwood town,

When I won their shootin' contest

I was known for miles around.

In that wide-open West

Where the wild horses ran,

And the color of your skin

Was not the measure of a man,

I heard that I could make my mark

If I could pass the test,

Be the master of my fate

In that wide-open west.

For nearly twenty years

I worked ranches for my pay,

And I met those western legends

That you read about today,

And in those hist'ry books

All about the early West,

You will find the name Nate* Love is

Written there among the rest.

In that wide-open West

Where the wild horses ran,

And the color of your skin

Was not the measure of a man,

I heard that I could make my mark

If I could pass the test,

Be the master of my fate

In that wide-open West.

* (it was spelled "Nat," but he pronounced it "Nate")
THAT "WILD AND WOOLY WEST"

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Six years before we wound up

In that awful Civil War,

The Army had the bright idea

To build a camel corps,

Those critters from the middle east

That trudged across the sand,

Should fill the bill to march across

Our western desert land.

Those members of the Camel Corps

They mastered every test,

They'd walk across the burning plains

And never stop to rest,

To some they were a miracle

To others, just a pest,

They must be why they called the place

The "wild and wooly West."

The soldiers went a sailin'

Straight across the bounding seas,

And came back with a cargo full

Of shaggy pets and fleas,

They thought their hump-back soldiers were

The best they'd ever found,

Until their mules and horses ran

Each time they came around.

So they auctioned off those beasts

But a few just ran away,

Some folks swear their great-grand camels

Roam the West today.

Those members of the Camel Corps

They mastered every test,

They'd walk across the burning plains

And never stop to rest,

To some they were a miracle

To others, just a pest,

They must be why they called the place

The "wild and wooly West."

THE ANNIE C. McGUIRE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In eighteen eighty-six, upon

A fateful Christmas eve,

The lighthouse up on Portland Head

Was destined to receive,

A Christmas gift like none before

And none they would desire,

The crashing and the smashing of

The Annie C. McGuire.

At first, they thought an earthquake shook

Their calm and peaceful night,

Then ran to find the Annie C.

Just yards below the light,

The keeper and his son rigged up

A lifeline and a chair,

And pulled the freezing mates ashore

With muscles and a prayer.

The Annie C. came wrapped up

On that Christmas holiday,

In a veiled shroud of myst'ry

Not untangled to this day,

And likely none will ever know

Exactly what transpired,

Aboard that shocking Christmas gift,

The Annie C. McGuire.

That ship, you see, was wanted by

The sheriff down the road,

Who planned to seize it to repay

A debt the owners owed,

They also found the Annie C.

Was heavily insured,

They bought the largest policy

The owners could procure.

Some thought they paid the captain off

To run his ship aground,

But when the sheriff searched his chest

No money could be found,

Then some recalled the captain's wife

So quiet all the while,

Who rode that chair to safety with

Her hatbox and a smile.

The Annie C. came wrapped up

On that Christmas holiday,

In a veiled shroud of myst'ry

Not untangled to this day,

And likely none will ever know

Exactly what transpired,

Aboard that shocking Christmas gift,

The Annie C. McGuire.
THE BALLAD OF BELLE STARR

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Back in eighteen forty-eight

On a cold Missouri day,

Myra Mabelle saw the world

And set her mind to stay,

She learned Latin and piano

In that private girl's school,

Then donned a gun to join the fun

Where bands of outlaws rule.

Belle Star lived

On a wing and a prayer,

With a price on her head

And a feather in her hair,

She had outlaws for in-laws

And rode with the best,

The Belle of the prairie

And the star of the West.

Back behind her daddy's farm

She would study outlaw ways,

The James boys and the Younger gang

Would hide out there for days,

She learned pistol-work and poker

In that desperado scene,

Then rode off into his'try as

The famous Bandit Queen.

Belle Star lived

On a wing and a prayer,

With a price on her head

And a feather in her hair,

She had outlaws for in-laws

And rode with the best,

The Belle of the prairie

And the star of the West.

Yes, she had outlaws for in-laws

And rode with the best,

The Belle of the prairie

And the star of the West.

THE BALLAD OF DUCT TAPE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Back in nineteen-seventy

The world would hold its breath,

As Apollo Thirteen's crewmen

Faced a fearful kind of death,

Yes, Houston had a problem

But devised a strange design,

Of plastic bags and duct tape

With their rocket-science minds.

Duct tape, if there was

An adhesive hall of fame,

They'd only need one room

Every plaque would bear your name,

With your smooth and shiny back

And your sticky underside,

Of all we've known, you stand alone,

Uniquely qualified.

If only you had been around

When Venus broke her arms,

She'd have her shapely elbows

To complete her marble charms,

And don't you know those Romans

Could have used a little luck,

And rolls and rolls of duct tape

To repair those aqueducts.

The only reason hammers, saws,

And drills are still around,

Is just in case you're in a place

Where duct tape can't be found.

Duct tape, if there was

An adhesive hall of fame,

They'd only need one room

Every plaque would bear your name,

With your smooth and shiny back

And your sticky underside,

Of all we've known, you stand alone,

Uniquely qualified.

THE BALLAD OF GRIZZLY ADAMS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Back in the eighteen-fifties

In that San Francisco town,

Wasn't much could make those miners

Put their whiskeys down,

But don't you know they'd leave their bars

To fill the streets and stare,

When Girzzly Adams came along

A ridin' on his bear.

It was blowin' cold and drizzly

When he hopped up on his grizzly,

To give those California

Folks a show,

Then he wandered into hist'ry

Leaving nothing but the myst'ry...

"Where did all those characters

Like Grizzly Adams go?"

He talked about his critters

Nearly every time he spoke,

Grizzly bears just seemed to be his

Favorite kind of folk,

He wrestled with his furry friends

Like daddies with their kids,

And no one could have loved them more

Than Grizzly Adams did.

With his snow-white beard and buckskins

He would wander fancy free,

Through the mountains and the woodlands

Of our nation's memory.

It was blowin' cold and drizzly

When he hopped up on his grizzly,

To give those California

Folks a show,

Then he wandered into hist'ry

Leaving nothing but the myst'ry...

"Where did all those characters

Like Grizzly Adams go?"

THE BATTLEFIELD ANGEL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

A saving angel came to earth

In eighteen twenty-one,

Born on a frigid Christmas day

With so much to be done,

Her angel wings grew stronger

As she practiced how to soar,

Then she flew into the flames

Of the bloody Civil War.

The battlefield angel

Flew right into the fire,

From Manassas to Antietam

Though her wings would often tire.

She cradled soldiers in her arms

As cannon balls flew by her,

That angel of the battlefield

Flew right into the fire.

She watched the doctors treat the men

Without enough supplies,

And saw frustration in their souls

And failure in their eyes,

They covered wounds with corn shucks

That they found upon the ground,

And tried to bind their broken limbs

With anything they found.

Clara Barton gave her all

For the broken and the dead,

Then she left behind her mark

In a sacred cross of red.

The battlefield angel

Flew right into the fire,

Up from Fredericksburg to Richmond

Though her wings would often tire.

The thanks in soldier's eyes was all

She had to fortify her,

That battlefield angel

Flew right into the fire.

THE BLUEGRASS CURE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

You don't need to take those drugs,

Just take a shot of Flatt & Scruggs,

When your spirits are running low

Try a little Bill Monroe,

Pour them in with all the others

And add a dash of Stanley Brothers.

Stir it all up,

Drink it all down,

Cool your temperature,

For stress and strain

And worry pain

Try the bluegrass cure.

If you feel like a hopeless case

Take a dose of doghouse bass,

Let Doc Watson treat your ills

You won't need those other pills,

Get out of bed, throw off your covers

And take a shot of Louvin Brothers.

Stir it all up,

Drink it all down,

Cool your temperature,

For stress and strain

And worry pain

Try the bluegrass cure.

Nothing in those doctor's bags

Is half as good as Ricky Skaggs,

Trade your buffered aspirin

For a banjo and a mandolin,

Mix them all with one another

Then sprinkle in some Osborne Brothers.

Stir it all up,

Drink it all down,

Cool your temperature,

For stress and strain

And worry pain

Try the bluegrass cure.

THE BULL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

You saw through the promises

The government would say,

Treaties made in the morning

And broken in the day,

So you rode through the bullets

With a spear and a knife,

You knew that you had nothing

To lose, but your life.

First you sat like a bull

When they came for your land,

And they ordered you to move

With the rest of your band,

Then the lightning would flash

And the thunder would roar,

And they all knew the bull

Wasn't sitting anymore.

We knew of your bravery

There on the battleground,

Like that time on the mountain

When bullets danced around,

But you sat in the open

Like you had not a care,

And calmly you blew pipe-fulls

Of smoke in the air.

First you sat like a bull

When they came for your land,

And they ordered you to move

With the rest of your band,

Then they saw the lightning flash

And they heard the thunder roar,

And they all knew the bull

Wasn't sitting anymore.

The blood of a warrior

Was flowing in your veins,

While the blood of your brothers

Was spilling 'cross the plains,

So before you surrendered

And came down from your land,

You gave old Mister Custer

A last place to stand.

First you sat like a bull

When they came for your land,

And they ordered you to move

With the rest of your band,

Then they saw the lightning flash

And they heard the thunder roar,

And they all knew the bull

Wasn't sitting anymore.
THE CHEROKEE ROSE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

When seven thousand soldiers came

To take you from your land,

They talked about a kind of law

You could not understand,

Your sisters and your brothers, both

The healthy and the frail,

Were herded up like cattle

Down a never-ending trail.

As tears fell on that solemn ground

From grieving mother's eyes,

Those tender buds came into view

And soon began to rise,

A million blooms of white and gold

for all the world to see,

And so began the legend

Of the rose of Cherokee.

Oh, the Cherokee Rose

They say it only grows

Where a mother's tears

Have fallen on the ground,

All across a thousand miles

Of a nation's painful trials

No brighter sign of darker times

Is ever to be found.

Two thousand souls would fall along

That trail of bitter tears,

And leave behind their spirit flowers

To flourish through the years,

To mark the lives of people who

Just wanted to live free,

Much like the rambling blossoms

Of the rose of Cherokee.

Yes, the Cherokee Rose

They say it only grows

Where a mother's tears

Have fallen on the ground,

All across a thousand miles

Of a nation's painful trials

No brighter sign of darker times

Is ever to be found.
THE DIRTY THIRTIES

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

We plowed up the plains

Where the prairie grasses grew,

And left them to dry

When the season was through,

Then the rains went away

And the winds came to stay,

While the dust from the land

Painted night on the day.

In those dirty thirties

When the black blizzards rolled,

Both the dust and the devil

Swirled out of control,

They blew away our dreams

And they sucked away our souls,

In those dirty thirties

When the black blizzards rolled.

We drove from our farms

With our lives packed in a load,

Or just rode our thumbs

To the end of the road,

It was so hard to bear

And we all said a prayer,

As we drove through the cloud

Of our dreams in the air.

In those dirty thirties

When the black blizzards rolled,

Both the dust and the devil

Swirled out of control,

They blew away our dreams

And they sucked away our souls,

In those dirty thirties

When the black blizzards rolled.

Yes, they blew away our dreams

And they sucked away our souls,

In those dirty thirties

When the black blizzards rolled.

THE FALLING OF THE NIGHT

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

At the breaking of the dawn

On that fateful summer day,

The sky was filled with planes

And our ships were on their way,

Fifty miles of flaming hell

Would rage across the fight,

But freedom's fire would burn

By the falling of the night.

Before the shores of Normandy

Could answer freedom's call,

We had to make our way across

That fierce Atlantic Wall,

On June the sixth, the tide was right

The channel nearly full,

Our ships could float above the mines

That lurked beneath their hulls.

In the middle of the day

With the beaches turning red,

The air was filled with prayers

For the living and the dead,

Fifty miles of flaming hell

Was raging 'cross the fight,

But freedom's fire would burn

By the falling of the night.

We sent five thousand ships that day

And scores of fighting men,

Who left behind so many tales

Of lives that might have been,

But side-by-side and yard-by-yard

We fought for higher ground,

And with the rising of the moon

We'd turned the war around.

At the ending of the day

As the smoke began to clear,

The signs of our success

Slowly started to appear,

Fifty miles of flaming hell

had raged across the fight,

But we lit freedom's fire

By the falling of the night.
THE GRASS TURNED BLUE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

The tender seeds of music

Carried from the British Isles,

Sailed far across the ocean

And lay dormant for awhile,

Then rising in a fertile field

Of Appalachian ground,

Those seeds began to grow

With a high and lonesome sound.

Back in the day

When that field was new,

The banjo bloomed

And the fiddle broke through,

They all grew higher...

Nearly caught on fire,

Those hills started smokin'

And the grass turned blue.

Monroe would plant a mixture

Of the many styles he found,

And slowly grow a hybrid

With a new old-timey sound,

The Stanleys and the Osbornes and

a hundred thousand more,

Sowed seeds beside the rows

Of the ones who came before.

And every keeper of that crop

As the many years have passed,

Has added something special

To that precious field of grass.

Back in the day

When that field was new,

The banjo bloomed

And the fiddle broke through.

They all grew higher...

Nearly caught on fire,

Those hills started smokin'

And the grass turned blue.

THE GREENBRIAR GHOST

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

It was eighteen ninety-seven

When they found me cold and dead,

Just short of ninety days

From the hour I was wed,

My husband, Edward, claimed to be

A sad and mournful wreck,

And dressed me up to bury

With a scarf around my neck.

The Greenbriar Ghost

Swept the bonds of death away,

From the stillness of my grave

I could hear my mother pray,

I met her in the dark of night

And whispered soft and close,

To tell her what had happened

To her Greenbriar Ghost.

When my West Virginia mother

Heard her Greenbriar girl had died,

The passion of her prayers

Called my spirit to her side,

For four nights in a row I came

And whispered by her bed,

Of how my cruel husband

Broke my neck and left me dead.

When the jury's guilty verdict came

The news would circulate,

How my ghostly testimony

Sealed my cruel husband's fate.

The Greenbriar Ghost

Swept the bonds of death away,

From the stillness of my grave

I could hear my mother pray,

I met her in the dark of night

And whispered soft and close,

To tell her what had happened

To her Greenbriar Ghost.

THE GREENVILLE GREASE HOUSE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In that Greenville grease house

Out behind the station,

Where cars and trucks

Had gone for lubrication,

Bill and the boys

Cleaned the dirt and grime,

From that Greenville grease house

Back in thirty-nine.

In that Greenville grease house

Out behind the station,

Bill gave those boys

A music education,

He built his sound

From a new design,

In that Greenville grease house

Back in thirty-nine.

In that Greenville grease house

Out behind the station,

Bill cranked it high

With wild acceleration,

Then smoothed it up

To a fine-tuned shine,

In that Greenville grease house

Back in thirty-nine.

From that Greenville grease house

Out behind the station,

He took them all

To the biggest in the nation,

Bill and the boys

Made that Grand Ole climb,

From that Greenville grease house

Back in thirty-nine.

And that Greenville grease house

Out behind the station,

Looked proudly on

In silent admiration,

'Cause it all began

In the dirt and grime,

Of that Greenville grease house

Back in thirty-nine.
THE IRISH ANNIES

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Fifteen gentle spirits sailed from County Mayo way

To seek a bright new future on a chilly April day,

They danced and sang at Castlebar the night before they sailed

And none could have predicted what the hands of fate unveiled.

Annie Kelly's eyes, they shined like diamonds on the sea

And sweet Annie McGowen's heart was pure and fancy free,

A sailor told them proudly with a smirk upon his lips

"Don't worry girls, 'cause neither God nor man could sink this ship."

But the band would soon be playing "Nearer My God to Thee"

As the devil took his bounty to the bottom of the sea,

Of the fifteen lads and colleens from County Mayo way

'Twas just the Irish Annies who'd live to see the day.

Frantic stewards rushed the halls and called for all to go

And sent them racing to the deck from passageways below,

But other sailors held them back and kept them from the stairs

As half-filled lifeboats sailed away, they sank into their prayers.

Upper classes found their way to safety with their peers

But those below just held their breath and watched through bitter tears,

Yet fate would save the Annies as the liner did descend

But leave the others hand-in-hand to wait their tragic end.

And the band just kept on playing "Nearer My God to Thee"

Then they followed their Titanic to the bottom of the sea,

Of the fifteen lads and colleens from County Mayo way

'Twas just the Irish Annies who'd wake to see the day.
THE MASTER OF THE GAME

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

When riverboats steamed up and down

That mighty "mississip,"

Their poker tables tempted men

To try their gamesmanship,

And ramblin' gamblin' George Devol

Was mighty glad they came,

To give their time and money

To the master of the game.

He was the master of the game

On those gambling riverboats,

With a diamond on his vest

And a pistol in his coat,

From preacher men to soldier boys

He'd treat 'em all the same,

And leave them broke and baffled

By the master of the game.

The river life had called him at

The tender age of ten,

By seventeen, he'd learned the skills

Of other gambling men,

From Natchez town to New Orleans

He quickly made his name,

'Til all the sharks and suckers

Knew the master of the game.

Yes, he'd shuffle up and deal

From the bottom or the back,

They say old George had never met

A deck he couldn't stack.

He was the master of the game

On those gambling riverboats,

With a diamond on his vest

And a pistol in his coat,

From preacher men to soldier boys

He'd treat 'em all the same,

And leave them broke and baffled

By the master of the game.

THE PINK GINGHAM DRESS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In her new sunbonnet

And a pink gingham dress,

Why the girl was in the contest

Was anybody's guess,

Then the little five-footer

Raised her rifle to the sky,

And nodded she was ready

To let the targets fly.

And shot by shot

Smoke filled the air,

And burned into the memory

Of everybody there,

How their sharp-shootin' hero

Had given it his best,

But lost to the girl

In the pink gingham dress.

Her daddy died young...

Left the family in distress

How they'd ever make the mortgage

Was anybody's guess,

Then the little sure-shooter

Took her daddy's rifle down,

And paid off every penny

Selling game in the town.

Her fame spread quickly

When she join the Wild West,

How she could hit those flying dimes

Was anybody's guess,

And that little sharp-shooter

Never even broke a sweat,

As she shot the ashes off

Of her husband's cigarette.

And shot by shot

Smoke filled the air,

And burned into the memory

Of everybody there,

How their dead-eyed darlin'

Won the heart of the West,

Little Annie Oakley

in the pink gingham dress.
THE POOREST OF THE POOR

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

A rare and gentle blossom

Started slowly to unfurl,

Whose tender petals soon would spread

Her love around the world,

In the heartbreak of Calcutta

So much sadness filled her eyes,

But she felt the poor and lonely

Were just Jesus in disguise.

She heard the silent tears

Of the poorest of the poor,

As they flooded through her mind

And they crashed upon her shore,

She walked among the lepers

The dying and ignored,

The angel of Calcutta loved

The poorest of the poor.

She chose the name Teresa

And she bowed her head to pray,

The comfort of the convent walls

Kept ugliness away,

But she never would forget them

And her heart just couldn't hide,

From the sad and broken people

Who were waiting just outside.

So she walked into the streets

'Til her time on earth was done,

And spread her loving petals

Like a flower in the sun.

She heard the silent tears

Of the poorest of the poor,

As they flooded through her mind

And they crashed upon her shore,

She walked among the lepers

The dying and ignored,

The angel of Calcutta loved

The poorest of the poor.

THE SOURDOUGH SAINT

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Miss Nellie Cashman landed in

The northern mining scene,

After famine chased her fam'ly

From the land of Irish green,

She heard about some miners trapped

By raging winter snows,

And organized a rescue team

To save those sourdoughs.

She was a sourdough saint

As she plodded through the snow,

Pushing through the blizzard

Where the Mounties wouldn't go,

That band of frozen miners

Thanked their lord without restraint,

When they saw the snowy vision

Of their sourdough saint.

That devil-driven winter snow

Had drifted ten-feet high,

And Miss Nellie knew for certain

All those hopeless souls would die,

The Mounties tried to turn her back

It's certain death they said,

She offered them a cup of tea

Then struggled on ahead.

Now hist'ry books will tell us

Back in eighteen seventy-five,

After seventy-seven days

Miss Nellie found them all alive.

She was a sourdough saint

As she plodded through the snow,

Pushing through the blizzard

Where the Mounties wouldn't go,

That band of frozen miners

Thanked their lord without restraint,

When they saw the snowy vision

Of their sourdough saint.

THE SOUTHFORK MONSTER

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

The Southfork monster slept

In his lofty mountain cage,

While the valley folk below

Prayed they'd never feel his rage,

The old dam's crumbling wall had

Somehow kept the beast confined,

'Til at last, he broke it down

Back in eighteen eighty-nine.

Some said it was the hand of man

Some said the devil's power,

That set him free to slither down

At forty miles an hour,

But everyone agreed it was

A sad and mournful day,

When that Southfork Monster swept

All those Johnstown souls away.

The Pittsburgh men of wealth

Bought the lake some years before,

Then they stocked it full of fish

They could catch forevermore ,

Put screens across the spillways

Just to keep the fish restrained,

But they clogged up through the years

So the monster couldn't drain.

Some said it was the hand of man

Some said the devil's power,

That set him free to slither down

At forty miles an hour,

But everyone agreed it was

A sad and mournful day,

When that Southfork Monster swept

All those Johnstown souls away.

The Southfork monster roared

Like a thunderstorm they say,

As he washed away the lives

Of the people in his way,

The seething rains had filled him

Near the top the night before,

And by early afternoon

He was captive nevermore.

Some said it was the hand of man

Some said the devil's power,

That set him free to slither down

At forty miles an hour,

But everyone agreed it was

A sad and mournful day,

When that Southfork Monster swept

All those Johnstown souls away.
THE UNION ANGEL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In the roar of rebel thunder while the smoke erased the sky

A brown-haired girl came running as the musket balls flew by,

With bandages and fortitude, the Union Angel flew

To bring her tender mercies to the broken boys in blue.

The Union Angel soared with pistols on her hips

To bandage up the wounded or just wet their dying lips,

From Hatcher's Run to Gettysburg and countless bloody towns

Those boys would thank the Lord who sent their Union Angel down.

When her husband died in battle, Annie Ethridge helped the rest

A "Regimental Daughter," she became the very best,

She'd march along beside the boys and sleep out in the field

And if she ever lost her will, she kept it well concealed.

In the hell of Spotsylvania, she cheered men to take a stand

At Chancellorsville, the angel took a bullet in her hand,

But through it all, she kept her head and shared her loving heart

As cannonballs and powder tore her peaceful world apart.

The Union Angel soared with pistols on her hips

To bandage up the wounded or just wet their dying lips,

From Hatcher's Run to Gettysburg and countless bloody towns

Those boys would thank the Lord who sent their Union Angel.

Yes, The Union Angel soared with pistols on her hips

To bandage up the wounded or just wet their dying lips,

From Hatcher's Run to Gettysburg and countless bloody towns

Those boys would thank the Lord who sent their Union Angel.
THE WRONG END OF THE LAW

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In Indian Territory

When the west was truly wild,

The Dalton brothers worked for

Law enforcement for a while,

But fate is often fickle

And it had another plan,

To send them into hist'ry as

A famous outlaw band.

On the wrong end of the law

Through the open end of time,

They galloped to their destinies

Of lawlessness and crime,

Their shiny silver stars

Lost their glitter once they saw,

The flashing of the gold

On the wrong end of the law.

They left for California

Where they stopped to rob a train,

Then roared across the country

Like a restless hurricane,

Two years from when they started

They would lie beneath the ground,

When Lady Luck abandoned them

Inside their own hometown.

They came to rob two banks at once

But found too late, instead,

The town-folk recognized their gang

And filled them full of lead.

On the wrong end of the law

Through the open end of time,

They galloped to their destinies

Of lawlessness and crime,

Their shiny silver stars

Lost their glitter once they saw,

The flashing of the gold

On the wrong end of the law.

THEIR CODE OF NAVAJO

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

On the blazing fields of battle

Of our second world war,

Some soldiers wielded weapons

No one ever tried before,

They used their native language

Like a gun against the foe,

Helping turn the tide of war

With their code of Navajo.

Their code of Navajo

Never left a single clue,

From the hell of Iwo Jima

To the siege of Peleliu,

They left their reservation

For the Devil's devastation,

Saving men they didn't know

With their code of Navajo.

As we searched in vain for ciphers

That no enemy could learn,

A missionary's son would

Know exactly where to turn,

The Navajo had taught him

How their ancient words combined,

To produce their mother tongue

Carried only in their mind.

When you thank the ones who freed the world

So many years ago,

Don't forget those unsung heroes

With their code of Navajo.

Their code of Navajo

Never left a single clue,

From the hell of Iwo Jima

To the siege of Peleliu,

They left their reservation

For the Devil's devastation,

Saving men they didn't know

With their code of Navajo.

THEIR GETTYSBURG ADDRESS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Children play London Bridge up on Cemetery Ridge

Where cannon smoke once washed away the sun,

And their laughter once again, over by the Devil's Den

Covers up the ghostly echoes of the powder and the gun.

And the spirits of the soldiers can't express

The joy that they feel from the children's happiness,

So united now they pray, both the blue and the gray

That the Lord keeps sending children to their Gettysburg address.

In the Valley of Death, laughing children catch their breath

As their skipping ropes fall gently on the grass,

And that somber countryside, where so many people died

Hopes the footsteps of the children will erase its bloody past.

Despite the brutal violence

All the cries of war are silenced,

As the children's playful sounds

Float across the battlegrounds.

And the spirits of the soldiers can't express

The joy that they feel from the children's happiness,

So united now they pray, both the blue and the gray

That the Lord keeps sending children to their Gettysburg address.
THOMAS KANE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

When danger started boiling up

In eighteen fifty-seven,

Buchanan sent an army on patrol,

Said Brigham Young was causing trouble

Better get there on the double,

And pressure Utah Territory

Back into the fold.

When the Mormon's learned about

The army marching toward them,

Destruction seemed to stare them in the eyes,

They thought they faced annihilation

from a Mormon-hating nation,

So their militia vowed to fight

'Til the last one dies.

Thomas Kane, Thomas Kane

Why don't we all know your name?

You stemmed the tide of blood

Across the plains,

You'd think that we should know you

From the gratitude we owe you

But you faded from our memory, Thomas Kane.

You were a man of honor, known

For gentle-hearted wisdom.

You shuttled back and forth between the two,

You walked through walls of anger

Past the raging face of danger,

And forged an everlasting peace

No one else could do.

Thomas Kane, Thomas Kane

Why don't we all know your name?

You stemmed the tide of blood

Across the plains.

You'd think that we should know you

From the gratitude we owe you

But you faded from our memory, Thomas Kane.
TREASURE CITY STONE

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

On a frozen mountainside

in eighteen sixty-eight,

Men burrowed into caves

In a mighty sorry state,

They hunkered down and waited

For the spring to come around,

When they could dig the silver

From that high Nevada ground.

When the mail stage arrived

Two messengers would ride,

A daily postal race

Up the three-mile mountainside.

The Treasure City gamblers

Gathered as the race began,

To bet their chunks of silver

On their favorite mailman.

Yes, they called it Treasure City,

And it wasn't very pretty,

But six thousand people

Called it home,

With no water to be found

They just poured the whiskey down,

And kept choppin' and a hackin'

At that Treasure City stone.

The silver ore was mighty pure

And no one could deny,

They'd gone to silver heaven

In this city in the sky,

Then came the word that shook them

To the bottom their souls,

There wasn't any silver

Left inside the barren holes.

They once called it Treasure City,

And though it wasn't pretty,

Some six thousand folks

Had call it home

Now there's little to be found

But a distant ghostly sound,

Like the choppin' and a hackin'

Of that Treasure City stone.
TROUBLE'S SURE TO COME

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

In the dark of the day

Back in eighteen eighty-nine,

When the moon jumped ahead

And the sun fell behind,

The light of a dream

Lit the soul of a man,

Who'd send circles of his vision

Far across the land.

In his dream, they would meet

Both the living and the dead,

They should all live in peace

Both the white and the red,

But some made a change

As his dream spread around,

They saw visions of the white man

Swallowed by the ground.

Don't send the soldiers,

A lone voice warned,

There'll be much to regret

There'll be hundreds to mourn,

Mix the powder of the gun

With the beating of the drum,

And as sure as snow will fall

"Trouble's sure to come."

When the word hit the air

Under South Dakota skies,

That the Sioux danced around

With a fire in their eyes,

A man no one heard

Sent a last-minute plea,

And his words could have prevented

Blood at Wounded Knee.

Don't send the soldiers,

The lone voice warned,

There'll be much to regret

There'll be hundreds to mourn,

Mix the powder of the gun

With the beating of the drum,

And, as sure as snow will fall,

"Trouble's sure to come."
WHEN HISTORY WAS NOW

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Our daddy had a restless soul

Like many men before,

So we headed west to Oregon

In eighteen forty-four,

We set out for the setting sun

So sure we would prevail,

But buried him and mommy on

That Godforsaken trail.

Now we're called the Sager orphans

If we're mentioned anymore,

As you memorize the names and dates

Of things that went before,

But you can feel our spirit

If your mind will just allow,

And join us in the mist of time

When history was now.

Our daddy was the first to go

The fever took his life,

Then the angels followed down the trail

To take his loving wife,

But all aboard our wagon train

Sent tearful prayers above,

And helped us face the future

While surrounding us with love.

When at last we reached that western land

A family mom had known,

Just spread their arms and welcomed us

Inside their hearts and home.

We were called the Sager orphans

When the Old West still was new,

And we lived our lives and dreamed our dreams

Just like I'm sure you do,

And you can feel our spirit

If your mind will just allow,

And join us in the mist of time

When history was now.

WHEN THE BLACK BLIZZARDS ROLLED

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

We packed all our dust-covered dreams on a truck

Or we just road our thumbs 'til we ran out of luck,

Drifting like the dirt-storms that blacked out the skies

And left little tracks from the tears in our eyes.

In those dirty thirties when the black blizzards rolled

The devil and the dust raged beyond our control,

They tried to blow away our dreams

And suck away our souls,

In those dirty thirties when the black blizzards rolled.

We prayed for a cloud burst to fill up our streams

But those wind-driven clouds only rained in our dreams,

Standing by the roadside with nothing to say

We watched as our hopes and our crops blew away.

But now when I recall those hard and dirty years

That dismal cloud of dust...slowly disappears,

Replaced by the pictures of the love our family knew

That held us to the ground and helped us make it through.

In those dirty thirties when the black blizzards rolled

The devil and the dust raged beyond our control,

They tried to blow away our dreams

And suck away our souls,

In those dirty thirties when the black blizzards rolled.
WHEN THE BLACK TURNED GOLD

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

A treaty made in Laramie,

In eighteen sixty-eight,

Gave the Black Hills to the Sioux

Forever from that date,

Those mountains of Dakota

Were forever theirs to hold,

But forever turned to never

When the black turned gold.

When the black turned gold,

In those old Dakota hills,

All the treaties of the past

Turned into dollar bills,

Men poured in by the thousands

With their shovels and their drills,

When the black turned gold

In those old Dakota hills.

When Custer took his Gatlin guns

And military band,

He would lead a thousand men

Into forbidden land,

They came to make a fort there

So the Indians were told,

But that fort became a fortune

When the black turned gold.

Every sad-eyed chief

And battle weary brave,

Knew those miner's shovels

Would soon dig their grave.

When the black turned gold,

In those old Dakota hills,

All the treaties of the past

Turned into dollar bills,

Men poured in by the thousands

With their shovels and their drills,

When the black turned gold

In those old Dakota hills.

WHEN THE DOCTOR WAS IN

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

They say tuberculosis

Sent that Georgia doctor off,

So no one felt too good about

The dentist with a cough,

He stormed his way through Texas

Like an icy winter rain,

Then blew across to Tombstone

On a westbound hurricane.

When the doctor was in

And his treatment had begun,

He'd start in pulling teeth

Or pulling out his gun,

No one his pistol treated

Ever had to come again,

The side effects were lasting

When the doctor was in.

A cool day in October

Started just like all the rest,

Until the call of history

Would put him to the test,

He slowly strolled down Freemont

While the Earps walked by his side,

As lawmen and the lawless

were preparing to collide.

The Clantons and McLaurys helped

Write history that day,

About a deadly doctor

With the name of Holiday.

When the doctor was in

And his treatment had begun,

He'd start in pulling teeth

Or pulling out his gun,

No one his pistol treated

Ever had to come again,

The side effects were lasting

When the doctor was in.

WHEN THE IRON MET THE IRON

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

They say that all the towns around

Had emptied overnight,

They'd heard their southern ironclad

Was moving in to fight,

They lined up on the beaches

With their picnics on the ground,

To watch that southern lady take

Those northern frigates down.

Fire and thunder filled the air

And passion filled the crew,

When ironclad met ironclad

In eighteen sixty-two,

The champions of the north and south

Were destined to align,

That day at Hampton Roads

When the iron met the iron.

The Union spies had heard the word

About the planned attack,

And knew the South put armor on

Their captured Merrimac,

They started forging iron

For a vessel of their own,

Then sent their valiant Monitor

Into the battle zone.

And the bruised and battered battleships

Gave everything they had,

But neither found a way to sink

The other's ironclad.

Fire and thunder filled the air

And passion filled the crew,

When ironclad met ironclad

In eighteen sixty-two,

The champions of the north and south

Were destined to align,

That day at Hampton Roads

When the iron met the iron.
WHERE DID YOU GO?

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Where did you go Virginia Dare?

Did you grow to be a woman

And wear flowers in your hair?

Did you live on milk and honey

Or just perish in despair?

Where did you go, Virginia Dare?

You were born the first among us

On our newly charted shore,

And we long to hear the story

Time has held forevermore,

Some say you were attacked and all

Were quickly overthrown,

While others think you married

And had children of your own.

Where did you go Virginia Dare?

Did you live among the natives

And wear feathers in your hair?

Did you live on milk and honey

Or just perish in despair?

Where did you go, Virginia Dare?

Time has asked so many questions

With the answers yet unheard,

Why descendants of the natives

Knew so many English words,

Some think the Spanish took your life

Some blame the storms at sea,

The only thing that's certain

Is...they'll always disagree.

Where did you go, Virginia Dare?

Did you feel the awful weapons

And wear blood upon your hair?

Did you live on milk and honey

Or just perish in despair?

Where did you go Virginia Dare?
WHITE PINE MOUNTAINS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

They had whiskey for breakfast

In the White Pine mountains,

They prayed for silver

And their moonshine stills,

They dug like gophers

In those White Pine mountains,

Then they ran like rabbits

Down those White Pine hills.

They found silver in the mountains

In eighteen sixty-seven,

When half of Nevada tried to

Climb their way to heaven.

There was fever in the mountains

In eighteen sixty-eight,

They poured into Nevada

Like a hell-bound freight.

There were over forty murders

In the White Pine mountains,

A hundred saloons

So they drank their fill.

They dug like gophers

In those White Pine mountains,

Then they ran like rabbits

Down those White Pine hills.

They came flyin' down the mountains

Eighteen seventy-one,

They'd stripped away the silver

In a five-year run.

No more whiskey for breakfast

In the White Pine mountains,

No more prayers

For the moonshine stills,

They dug like gophers

In those White Pine mountains,

Then they ran like rabbits

Down those White Pine hills.

WIH THE WAVE OF A BONNET

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

They still talk about the glory

Of that little southern Belle,

From the Shenandoah Valley

Who ran through the fires of hell,

Belle Boyd loved her southern land

Like flowers love the sun,

She faced cannon balls and bullets

On her battlefield run.

With the wave of a bonnet

She sent rebel soldiers past,

Said, there's really not that many

And those Union boys won't last,

She told Stonewall and his men

They better hurry and get on it,

Sent them charging into town

With the wave of a bonnet.

She had heard the Union soldiers

Through a knothole in the floor,

While she hid above their parlor

As they made their plans for war,

We'll place divisions all around

And trap them in a box,

Then we'll pounce on Stonewall Jackson

Like the hounds upon a fox.

With the shrieking bullets flying by

She waved them on ahead,

She just couldn't face the vision

Of her rebels lying dead.

With the wave of a bonnet

She sent rebel soldiers past,

Said, there's really not that many

And those Union boys won't last,

She told Stonewall and his men

They better hurry and get on it,

Sent them charging into town

With the wave of a bonnet.

WOULD THEY STILL LEAD US HERE?

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

If the settlers and the mountaineers

Who crossed the new frontier,

Knew what we would do,...

Would they still lead us here?

If they saw how fast their forests

And their farms would disappear,

Under parking lots and megamarts

Would they still lead us here?

Would they still lead us here

Through their beautiful land?

Would they forge raging rivers

And cross burning sand?

Or would they stop and turn around

And stand hand-to-hand,

To keep us from ravaging

Their beautiful land?

If the trappers and the pioneers

Who crossed the new frontier,

Knew what we would do,...

Would they still lead us here?

If they saw how fast their prairies

And their streams would disappear,

Under road repairs and thoroughfares

Would they still lead us here?

Would they still lead us here

Through their beautiful land?

Would they forge raging rivers

And cross burning sand?

Or would they stop and turn around

And stand hand-to-hand,

To keep us from ravaging

Their beautiful land?

(repeat part or all of chorus)
YOU HEARTLESS OCEAN DEVIL

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

When water rose in Galveston

The children ran to play,

So unaware of things to come

That sad September day,

Alas, the ocean devil

In his hatred had begun,

To stir his evil potion for

The storm of Galveston.

You heartless ocean devil

Did you look them in the eyes?

As you swept away their children

Could you hear their mournful cries?

Your fiendish deeds, the eyes of man

Should never visualize,

You heartless ocean devil

Did you look them in the eyes?

'Twas back in nineteen hundred when

That devil of the sea,

Had mixed a mighty hurricane

And set his demons free,

At first the northern demon

Helped to fight the raging swell,

Then turned to add his fury to

The perfect ocean hell.

All the people watched in horror

Through the flashes of the night,

As everything the demons touched

Went flying out of sight.

You heartless ocean devil

Did you look them in the eyes?

As you crushed them with your timbers

Could you hear their painful cries?

Your fiendish deeds, the eyes of man

Should never visualize,

You heartless ocean devil

Did you look them in the eyes?

YOUR GRAND OLE WALLS

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Your birthday fiddle filled the air

In nineteen twenty-five,

Your broadcast sent the signal out

Country is alive,

With iron wills and steel guitars

They traveled to your door,

From orange blossom country

To the wide Pacific shore.

Your grand ole walls

Sent a message to them all,

In sequin suits and worn-out boots

They answered every call,

They sailed the skies on speckled birds

And rode on cannonballs,

To stand there on that Opry stage

Inside your grand ole walls.

Through their youth, your songs would bring them

Stories, far from home,

When they grew, they came to you

With stories of their own,

From Butcher Holler to Rocky Top

They heard you loud and clear,

And brought the gold down from the hills

For all of us to hear.

Your grand ole walls

Sent a message to them all,

In sequin suits and worn-out boots

They answered every call,

They sailed the skies on speckled birds

And rode on cannonballs,

To stand there on that Opry stage

Inside your grand ole walls.

With old guitars, in dusty bars

They heard your gentle call,

You held the heart of country music

Inside your grand ole walls.

YOUR WILD WESTERN HEART

Americana lyric by Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2020

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

We started out at Council Bluffs

And headed for the sun,

Then scattered half our wagonload

Before it had begun,

The thunder spooked the oxen,

Sent them dashing through the rain,

Spreading pantaloons and petticoats

Across the soggy plains.

In your wild western heart

Don't you want us to prevail?

Though you burn us with your summer

And you pound us with your hail,

You tempted us with riches

If we made it 'cross your trail,

In your wild western heart

Don't you want us to prevail?

When little Jeremiah took

A fever yesterday,

I swear the highest mountain goat

Could hear our family pray,

By nightfall he was healthy

And we blessed the one who saves,

'Cause on the way, we must have passed

At least a thousand graves.

We saw mountain lions and blizzards

But we faced up to our fears,

While they fortified our souls

And turned us into pioneers.

In your wild western heart

Don't you want us to survive?

Do you care if we all perish

Or we make it through alive?

You promised fertile valleys

Waiting there when we arrive,

In your wild western heart

Don't you want us to survive?

Recorded lyrics

The lyrics in the next section have been recorded and are not available for co-writing. As I mentioned earlier, though, if you or your band would like to cover any of them, just check out the finished songs on iTunes, Pandora, Spotify, or the like and I'd be glad to get you in touch with the publishers. If you just want to include them in your jams at your favorite bluegrass hangout, please feel free to.

In several cases the finished lyrics differ some from my original lyric (for the better, I must admit). In some cases they are identical. Since this is a book of my lyrics, I've used my earlier versions.
HANDMADE NAILS AND HOMEMADE LOVE

Melody: Randy Kohrs

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2004

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

I recall that cold November day

And the icy wind that blew,

When they came to tear our cabin down

To put the highway through.

I can still see grandpa Nathan

Standing in the road,

He said, "Before you tear it down

There's something you should know."

Handmade nails and homemade love

Built this cabin stronger,

Than all the steel machinery

You brought to tear it down,

Through all the years of joy and tears

It held our world together,

Handmade nails and homemade love

Won't crumble to the ground.

Now when I look past the flowered fields

At the cabin in the sun,

I remember how my grandpa's words

Got through to everyone,

And you know, they never even

Tried to tear it down,

They built that highway clear across

The other side of town.

Handmade nails and homemade love

Built this cabin stronger,

Than all the steel machinery

You brought to tear it down,

Through all the years of joy and tears

It held our world together,

Handmade nails and homemade love

Won't crumble to the ground.

No handmade nails and homemade love

Never crumbled to the ground.
THE STRANGER IN GRAY

Melody: David Rowe c 2011

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2011

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

From that Cedar Mountain battle

back in eighteen sixty-two,

Came a fallen soldier's casket

Still today without a clue,

The grieving parents braced to see

Their Union son lie dead,

But in his place they found a boy

In southern gray instead.

As the tears rolled down their faces

They searched vainly for his name,

But they never learned who'd journeyed

To their village up in Maine,

Without the funds to send him back

They buried him like their own,

And there above his resting place

Carved "Stranger" on the stone.

And the stranger in Gray

Is lying there today,

A misdirected

Casualty of war,

Surrounded by the ones

Who'd fired the Union guns,

The stranger in Gray

Will see Dixie nevermore.

Fate must have a sense of humor

As it winds along its way,

For it sent the gray-clad stranger

To a little town named Gray,

But even when the real son

Was found and buried there,

The town made sure the stranger was

Included in their prayers.

And when the ladies place the flowers

And the flags are left to wave,

Beside the stranger's flowers

A Rebel flag flies on his grave.

Yes, the stranger in Gray

Is lying there today,

A misdirected

Casualty of war,

Surrounded by the ones

Who'd fired the Union guns

The stranger in Gray

Is no stranger anymore.
CROOKED NOSE JACK

Melody: Bill Barwick

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2009

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

How'd you sneak into history

Crooked Nose Jack?

The only mark you ever made

Was that cowardly attack,

Did old Wild Bill have

All the things that you lack?

How'd you sneak into history

Crooked Nose Jack?

You were a shadow of a man

Nobody really knew,

You drifted with the wind

And lived without a clue,

Then fate came to Deadwood

On that summer afternoon,

And found you standing there

In the Number Ten saloon.

How'd you sneak into history

Crooked Nose Jack?

The only mark you ever made

Was that cowardly attack,

Did old Wild Bill have

All the things you lack?

How'd you sneak into history

Crooked Nose Jack?

Was it the game that you lost

To Bill the day before,

That sent you to the bar

To settle up the score?

Or did someone pay you

On that summer afternoon,

To bring your forty-five

To the Number Ten saloon.

How'd you sneak into history

Crooked Nose Jack?

The only mark you ever made

Was that cowardly attack,

Did you feel like a man

Creeping up on his back?

How'd you sneak into history

Crooked Nose jack?
DIE ON THE VINE

Melody: Randy Kohrs

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2010

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

At the breaking of the dawn

On the outskirts of the town,

They held my farming tools up

And tore my world down,

I watched them as they auctioned off

The pieces of my life,

The treasures that my daddy left

For me and my wife.

At the end of my rope

On the bottom of a dream,

I tried to drown my troubles in

An endless whiskey stream,

But one day as my empty bottle

Rolled across the floor,

I swore I heard my daddy's words

From twenty years before.

Son, don't let your life

Die on the vine,

Don't plant your roots

In whiskey and wine,

Grow up straight

Like a tall Georgia pine,

Don't let your life

Die on the vine.

Then I pushed away the glass

And pulled myself up straight,

I knew I could stand up to

The bitter winds of fate,

'Cause suddenly I realized

That one thing hadn't sold,

The best thing daddy planted...

His strength in my soul.

Son, don't let your life

Die on the vine,

Don't plant your roots

In whiskey and wine,

Grow up straight

Like a tall Georgia pine,

Don't let your life

Die on the vine.
GOD SAVE THE KING AND QUEEN

Melody: Rick Pickren

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2017

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

We all leave impressions as

We travel on our way,

But very few will leave the kind

That never blow away,

The winds of time will not erase

The path of Roy and Dale,

On Buttermilk and Trigger

As they rode along their trail.

God save the king and queen

Lord you've got our very best,

The king of the cowboys

And the queen of the West,

Stirring up that golden dust

On heaven's silver screen,

We know they're on your happy trail

God save the king and queen.

Roy came from country roots

Where times were hard and good,

Then from the western siren came

The call of Hollywood,

He joined up with some pioneers

To plant the early seeds,

Of cool clear water...water ("echoed" harmony)

And those tumbling tumble weeds.

Dale came from Texas with

Its music in her soul,

And teamed up with the cowboy king

To play her queenly role,

Along with Pat and Nellybelle

And crabby Gabby Hayes,

Our hearts rode right beside them

As they lived the good old days.

God save the king and queen

Lord you've got our very best,

The king of the cowboys

And the queen of the West,

Stirring up that golden dust

On heaven's silver screen,

We know they're on your happy trail

God save the king and queen.
ELIZABETH

Melody: Matt Ford

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2011

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Elizabeth, we sang you

Pretty songs from Ireland,

As we tumbled in your belly

To our new-found home,

But you never sang along

'Til our voices near were gone,

Then your songs of death and dying,

How they chilled us to the bone.

When some poor fevered soul

Took his last breath of air,

You closed your eyes and spit him

To the sea, without a prayer,

Oh, how our poor hearts needed you

To sing away the gloom,

But like your wretched captain

You could never hear our tune.

Elizabeth, we sang you

Pretty songs from Ireland,

As we tumbled in your belly

To our new-found home.

But you never sang along

'Til our voices near were gone,

Then your songs of death and dying,

How they chilled us to the bone.

When the waves swept your deck

Like a sea devil's broom,

You hurled us through the darkness

Of our cold and clammy tomb,

Oh how we prayed you'd hear our tunes

And try to sing along,

Instead your rotting timbers,

Just creaked out the devil's songs.

Elizabeth, we sang you

Pretty songs from Ireland,

As we tumbled in your belly

To our new-found home,

But you never sang along

'Til our voices near were gone,

Then your songs of death and dying,

How they chilled us to the bone.
MOUNTAIN STONE

Melody: Randy Kohrs

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2004

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Northwest to the Powder River

In eighteen twenty-three,

A mountain man named Clyman

Hiked into history.

He had iron ore in his blood

And steel in his bones,

His arms were solid marble

And his soul was mountain stone.

When Indians attacked him

He got away somehow,

Swam his way to safety

Turned around and gave a bow.

He had iron ore in his blood

And steel in his bones,

His arms were solid marble

And his soul was mountain stone.

A grizzly jumped his captain

Looked like his time was gone,

Nearly bit his ear off

So Clyman sewed it on.

He had iron ore in his blood

And steel in his bones,

His arms were solid marble

And his soul was mountain stone.

He made it 'cross the Rockies

And trapped there for a while,

Turned around, laced up his boots

And walked six hundred miles.

He had iron ore in his blood

And steel in his bones,

His arms were solid marble

And his soul was mountain stone.
ORPHANS PREFERRED

Melody: Jean Prescott

Vocal: Barry Ward

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2016

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Bill left Sacramento

In the early morning rain,

And flew across the country

Like an eastbound hurricane,

And over in Missouri

Johnny hit the westward trail,

With a pistol and a Bible

And twenty pounds of mail.

"Orphans preferred"

The poster had read,

A hundred bucks a month

But there's danger ahead,

You could ride into history

Or gallop to your death,

It's up to the Lord

And the Pony Express.

As young Bill and Johnny

Turned their tired ponies in,

The hopped right up on new ones

And they headed out again,

A hundred miles later

Brand-new riders hit the trail,

With a pistol and a Bible

And twenty pounds of mail.

"Orphans preferred"

The poster had read,

A hundred bucks a month

But there's danger ahead,

You could ride into history

Or gallop to your death,

It's up to the Lord

And the Pony Express

Many more would follow,

Two hundred, more or less,

With everything from gossip

To the Gettysburg Address,

Yes, all across the nation

Day and night, they hit the trail ,

With a pistol and a Bible

And twenty pounds of mail.

"Orphans preferred"

The poster had read,

A hundred bucks a month

But there's danger ahead,

Yes, you could ride into history

Or gallop to your death,

It's up to the Lord

And the Pony Express.
BLACK BART

Melody: Rick Pickren

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2011

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Black Bart, the old-west

Gentleman crook,

His name's inscribed in the

History books,

'Cause he made his wages

Robbing twenty-eight stages,

Black Bart, the old-west

Gentleman crook.

He never raised his voice

No one ever heard him curse,

Now and then, he'd leave behind

A note he wrote in verse,

He never hurt the drivers

Left the passengers alone,

They said he was the nicest crook

The West had ever known.

Black Bart, the old-west

Gentleman crook,

His name's inscribed in the

History books,

'Cause he made his wages

Robbing twenty-eight stages,

Black Bart, the old-west

Gentleman crook.

Some folks thought he was a ghost

Since he never left a trace,

They all said he robbed them

With a style and grace,

Even when they caught him

And tried him for his crime,

His good behavior got him out

Before he served his time.

Black Bart, the old-west

Gentleman crook,

His name's inscribed in the

History books,

'Cause he made his wages

Robbing twenty-eight stages,

Black Bart, the old-west

Gentleman crook.
THE DEVIL OF THE TRAIL

Melody: Randy Kohrs

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2010

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.

Back in eighteen forty-five

She left her home, Missouri.

The siren of the West

Had cast a spell,

Oregon, it told young Sarah,

Holds a piece of heaven,

But along the way to heaven,

She'd pass the gates of hell.

The devil of the trail

Witt bum you in the valleys,

He'll shoot from the skies

With his windblown hail,

He'll freeze your heart

With his snow-crusted mountains,

Sarah are your ready for

The devil of the trail?

She took off with her family

Across the barren prairie,

Past a swarming sea

...Of buffalo,

Then the devil sent them charging right

Toward their fragile wagons,

And nearly .ground their dreams

Into the dusty ground below.

The devil of the trail,

Burns you in the valleys,

He shoots from the skies

With his windblown hail,

He freezes your heart

With his snow-crusted mountains,

Sarah, can you make it past

The devil of the trail?

In the fall, they wandered through

The frozen Cascade Mountains,

The winding canyons filled

Them with alarm,

Half-dead, they finally came across

A peaceful little cabin,

A grateful Sarah fell into

The lady's waiting arms.

The devil of the trail

Has burned you in the valleys,

He shot from the skies

With his windblown hail,

But he couldn't freeze your heart

With his snow-crusted mountains,

Sarah, you have overcome

The devil of the trail.
THE GHOST IN REBEL GRAY

Melody: Wayne Hamilton

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2014

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.

Deep within the Union lines, no one knew he was around

John Mosby from Virginia, crept in without a sound,

Like a southern apparition, he would leave without a trace,

With a load of Union prisoners and a smile upon his face.

When the rebel ghost was prowling

Grant shook his head and swore,

Lee would smile and say

I wish I had a hundred more,

One second there was nothing

All the Union boys would say,

Next thing you know, they're running from

The ghost in rebel gray.

With his rangers by his side, at the darkest hour of night

That spirit from Virginia, would make an eerie sight,

Then he raided Fairfax Courthouse, and he left to their disgrace

With a general, two captains and a smile upon his fare.

When the rebel ghost was prowling

Grant shook his head and swore,

Lee would smile and say

I wish I had a hundred more,

One second there was nothing

All the Union boys would say,

Next thing you know, they're running from

The ghost in rebel gray.

Yes, one second there was nothing

All the Union boys would say,

Next thing you know, they're running from

The ghost in rebel gray.
THE KEEPER OF THE LIGHT

Melody: David Rowe

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2009

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

You're a sad Boon Island legend

And your story's often told,

How you drift across the boulders

When the wind blows wild and cold,

The sailors hear your mournful wails

When squalls come up at night,

And know they're in the presence of

The keeper of the light.

Why do you walk those broken rocks

Forever, Katherine Bright?

So many men we've seen you

When the waters rage at night,

A sad-eyed apparition

Shrouded all in white,

Lost in time and memory...

The keeper of the light.

We all know about your husband

Once the keeper of the light,

How he drowned in surging waters

On that fateful winter night,

You kept the lighthouse burning strong

To keep the sailors warned,

And saved the lives of countless men

The five days of the storm.

Why do you walk those broken rocks

Forever, Katherine Bright?

So many men we've seen you

When the waters rage at night,

A sad-eyed apparition

Shrouded all in white,

Lost in time and memory...

The keeper of the light.

When they found you in the lighthouse

Once they made it 'cross the reef,

You had drifted into madness

From exhaustion and the grief,

For five days without food or sleep "

You kept the ships from harm,

Then sat down with his frozen life-

less body in your arms.

Why do you walk those broken rocks

Forever, Katherine Bright?

So many men we've seen you

When the waters rage at night,

A sad-eyed apparition

Shrouded all in white,

Lost in time and memory...

The keeper of the light
THE LIBERTY EXPRESS

Melody: Susan Nikas

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2009

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

The word was out, that Tubman girl

Was headed down the track,

With the North Star in her eyes

And the devil at her back,

She knew just where to hit the steam

And when to slow it down,

She raced across the hills

And she glided through the towns.

She led slaves through the alleys

Up the hills and down the valleys,

How she made it through

Is anybody's guess,

She was in the angel's favor,

Never been one any braver,

Than Miss Moses at the throttle

Of The Liberty Express.

For ten long years, she led the way

To freedom from the chains,

With a bounty on her head

And a fever in her brain,

She knew where sympathizers lived

And every slaver's shack,

She knew she couldn't rest

With the hunters at her back.

She led slaves through the alleys

Up the hills and down the valleys,

How she made it through

Was anybody's guess,

She was in the angel's favor,

Never been one any braver,

Than Miss Moses at the throttle

Of The Liberty Express.

She led slaves through the alleys

Up the hills and down the valleys,

With a fearless heart

So very few possess,

She's still in the angel's favor

"Cause there's never been one braver,

Than Miss Moses at the throttle

Of the Liberty Express
THE LONE RANGER WAY

Melody: Marvin Odell

Vocal: Hank Cramer

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2008

Where did you go?

Where do you ride?

Are you still chasing bad men

With Tonto by your side?

I wish you'd let us ride along

For just another day,

To help you tame that wild west

The Lone Ranger way.

You rode into our living rooms

In nineteen thirty-three,

Our old RCAs and Philcos

Set your western spirit free,

As Silver thundered 'cross the plains

Past mountains and ravines,

We could see his fiery hoof-beats

On our mental movie screens.

Where did you go?

Where do you ride?

Are you still chasing bad men

With Tonto by your side?

I wish you'd let us ride along

For just another day,

To help you tame that wild west

The Lone Ranger way.

You rode across our little screens

In nineteen forty-nine,

With your bullets made of silver

You fought lawlessness and crime,

Those thrilling days of yesteryear

Too soon were said and done,

With a hearty Hi Yo Silver

You rode off into the sun.

Where did you go?

Where do you ride?

Are you still chasing bad men

With Tonto by your side?

I wish you'd let us ride along

For just another day,

To help you tame that wild west

The Lone Ranger way.
THE MIGHTY PORTLAND GALE

Melody: David Rowe

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2009

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

They say today, in Portland

Weathered sailing men turn pale,

When the children gather 'round them

And they beg to hear the tale,

Of that fateful night when captain

Blanchard's paddle-wheeler sailed,

Into the myst'ry and hist'ry

Of the mighty Portland Gale.

On a cold November evening

Back in eighteen ninety-eight,

The steamer Portland left the dock

To meet its icy fate,

She'd prayed to stay in harbor,

And let the winds subside,

She heard two storms were coming

And she knew they might collide.

As she sailed from Boston Harbor

She crossed other ships who fled,

To seek their shelter from the storm

That threatened her ahead,

The Gulf sent fury northward,

The Great Lakes blasted east,

And captain Blanchard's paddle-

Wheeler bounced upon the beast.

And, still today, in Portland

Weathered sailing men turn pale,

When the children gather 'round them

And they beg to hear the tale,

Of that fateful night when captain

Blanchard's paddle-wheeler sailed,

Into the myst'ry and hist'ry

Of the mighty Portland Gale.

She gave four blasts of her whistle

As she lurched across the waves,

She had to know that raging sea

Was soon to be her grave,

It's never been decided

Just who should get the blame,

But God would get her riders

And the storm would get her name.

Yes, still today, in Portland

Weathered sailing men turn pale,

When the children gather 'round them

And they beg to hear the tale,

Of that fateful night when captain

Blanchard's paddle-wheeler sailed,

Into the myst'ry and hist'ry

Of the mighty Portland Gale.
THE SOULS OF PIONEERS

Melody: Aaron Ramsey

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2013

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

I saw the ranger sitting there

Beside the rocky path,

I smiled and said, It's five o'clock

So we must be the last,

He grinned at me and shook his head,

Said, more will come around

If I just wait here long enough,

They never let me down.

You know, the souls of pioneers

Still roll across this trail,

Sometimes they stop a while, he said,

To tell another tale,

All the settlers and the dreamers

Who have passed by through the years,

I never feel alone out here

With the souls of pioneers.

They tell about the life they left

To chase the setting sun,

The cabin home they're going to build

When this old journey's done,

They talk about the prairie storms

And bitter mountain snow,

And all the kids they're going to raise

And crops they're going to grow.

Yes the souls of pioneers

Still roll across this trail,

Sometimes they stop a while, he said

To tell another tale,

All the settlers and the dreamers

Who have passed by through the years,

I never feel alone out here

With the souls of pioneers.

Yes, the settlers and the dreamers

Who have passed by through the years,

Keep this old ranger company

All the souls of pioneers.

CATTLE KATE

Melody: Rick Pickren

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2017

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Miss Ella came from Kansas

Just a simple country maid,

Then she bounced around the country

Where she learned another trade,

She entertained the cowboys

Underneath her cabin roof,

And often traded favors

For their beef upon the hoof.

So they called her Cattle Kate

'Round that Sweetwater range,

And those country boys came callin'

With their calves to exchange,

The high-toned ladies put her down

Their men folk wished they could,

And everybody had their say

About her livelihood.

No one could have predicted

How she'd meet her dreadful fate,

How Wyoming territory

Came to honor Cattle Kate,

They hated cattle barons

Who had stolen all their land,

But had no one among them

Brave enough to take a stand.

Miss Ella danced with danger

When she stood beside a friend,

Who had vowed to fight those barons

Up until the bitter end,

That end would find them hanging

Side by side upon a tree,

And showed the local ranchers

Just how cruel the barons could be.

Some still called her Cattle Kate

'Round that Sweetwater range,

But they made it sound respectful

When they summoned up her name,

And high-toned ladies even spoke

Miss Ella's name with pride,

And said it was a shame the way

Their local hero died.
COMMON GROUND

Melody: Wayne Hamilton

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2014

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Zachoriah took a rebel stand with all his mind and soul

His brother Nathan pledged his life to keep the Union whole,

Since their nation had exploded and broke apart in war

The bond between the brothers couldn't hold them anymore.

Their home up in Kentucky

Turned into a battleground,

They would argue on and on

But neither one would come around,

When the bitter war came raging

One when up and one went down,

And they marched off into battle

Never finding common ground.

At Chancellorsville, they stood the test, each on opposing sides

Then Gettysburg, the Devil's Den, where neither one could hide,

In a thundercloud of cannon, in battle, hand-to-hand,

The brothers sent each other to the angel's promised land.

Their home up in Kentucky

Turned into a battleground,

They would argue on and on

But neither one would come around,

When the bitter war came raging

One when up and one went down,

And they marched off into battle

Never finding common ground.

Now the bloody war is over

And the brothers can be found,

In a churchyard on the meadow

Side by side in common ground.
THE STREETS OF ABILENE

Melody: Aaron Ramsey

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2013

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

On the streets of Abilene

The law had lost control,

The poster warning "check your guns"

Was filled with bullet holes.

From the East, there came a man

From New York's Bowery town,

A red-hair Irish cop who claimed

They'd lay those pistols down.

If they measured nerve in ounces

Tom Smith would weight a ton,

He'd tame the streets of Abilene

And never use a gun.

On the streets of Abilene

He calmly spent the day,

Telling everyone he met

To put their guns away.

The townsfolk drew a nervous breath

They didn't make a sound,

When Smith approached the meanest pair

Of outlaws in the town.

If they measured nerve in ounces

Tom Smith would weight a ton,

He'd tame the streets of Abilene

And never use a gun.

On the streets of Abilene

Big Hank was first to fall,

Wyoming Frank was next to feel

The long arm of the law.

Stories spread like forest fires

The legend traveled far,

Of that iron-flsted Eastern cop,

Who wore a western star.

If they measured nerve in ounces

Tom Smith would weight a ton,

He tamed the streets of Abilene

And never use a gun.
POCKETS OF GOLD

Melody: Randy Kohrs

& Ashley Brown

(released as "Rockwell's Gold")

(Thomas Rockhill was my great-grandfather)

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2007

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Thomas Rockhill gazed at

The streets below,

At miners and murderers

He came to know,

He buttoned his coat

And he faced the cold,

To stroll through town

With pockets of gold.

He had pockets of gold

He had nerves of steel,

A hard-earned fortune

He had to conceal,

Didn't trust his luck

To the banks, were told,

So he walked through town

With pockets of gold.

Back then in Nevada in

Those White Pine Hills,

They drank their lunch

From a whiskey still,

Forty men died from

Murders untold,

But never the man

With pockets of gold.

He had pockets of gold

He had nerves of steel,

A hard-earned fortune

He had to conceal,

Didn't trust his luck

To the banks, were told,

So he walked through town

With pockets of gold.
MAMIE THURMAN'S MURDER

Melody: Matt Ford

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2011

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

A West Virginia murder tale

From nineteen thirty two,

Still send shivers through the blood

of more than just a few,

'Cause Mamie Thurman's killer put

Two bullets in her head,

Then cut her throat and broke her neck

To make sure she was dead.

Mamie Thurman wasn't shy

They say she played around,

With the local leaders of

Her Logan County town,

It may have been her husband that

Took Mamie's mortal life,

Or one of Mamie's lovers, or

A very jealous wife.

High upon the mountain top, she never stops to rest,

They say she walks in polka dots with bloodstains on her dress,

Many here have seen her form, and many more have heard her,

Since that steamy summer night of Mamie Thurman's murder.

They held a hasty murder trial

And sent a man away,

Leaving questions of the crime

Unanswered still today,

Many think that Mamie moans

Those answers in the wind,

On West Virginia summers

When the steamy nights begin.

High upon the mountain top, she never stops to rest,

They say she walks in polka dots with bloodstains on her dress,

Many here have seen her form, and many more have heard her.

Since that steamy summer night of Mamie Thurman's murder.
TIME AND TIME AGAIN

Melody: Randy Kohrs

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2010

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

Time and time again

You left me crying,

Time and time again you

Made me blue,

You two-timed me this time

One time too often,

Now it's time to

Watch me leaving you.

You thought I'd hang around for almost always,

You thought that I would never want to part,

But my clock was running down

While you spread yourself around,

And now there's no more time

left on my heart.

... 'Cause, time and time again

You left me crying,

Time and time again you

Made me blue,

You two-timed me this time

One time too often,

Now it's time to

Watch me leaving you.

You thought I'd be your fool for almost ever.

You thought that I would never run away,

But I told you long ago

That your time was running low,

Now I've run out of

Reasons to delay.

... 'Cause, time and time again

You left me crying,

Time and time again you

Made me blue,

You two-timed me this time,

One time too often,

Now it's time to

Watch me leaving you.

Yes, now it's time to

Watch me leaving you.
BENEATH THE APPLE TREES

Melody: Rick Pickren

Dennis Goodwin Copyright 2017

dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com

A lonely little prairie inn

Was such a welcome sight,

'til rumors spread of missing men

Who vanished in the night,

Some say Miss Katie Bender's kin

Could smell their gold for sure,

And vacancies would often be

A little premature.

Beneath the apple trees

On that early Kansas plain,

Lie proof Miss Katie Bender's charms

Could cure their earthly pain,

Her captivating beauty

Put wealthy men at ease,

Unaware they'd rest somewhere

Beneath the apple trees.

Miss Katie Bender claimed to hold

The power in her grasp,

To cure men's ills or help them hear

Their loved ones who had passed,

She'd lure them to the Bender's Inn

And start her psychic act,

While daddy and her brother John

Would sneak up from the back.

With their hammers in their hands

By the crackling fireplace,

Miss Katie's kin would help them meet

Their loved ones face to face.

Beneath the apple trees

On that early Kansas plain,

Lie proof Miss Katie Bender's charms

Could cure their earthly pain,

Her captivating beauty

Put wealthy men at ease,

Unaware they'd rest somewhere

Beneath the apple trees.
