https://music.guysmith.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/cropped-All-from-FB.jpg
Stream If You Don’t Stop Crying on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Word and music by Cheryl Mannix-Smith
If you don’t stop cryin’, You’ll never see
All the life we had before, All our memories
Baby let me hear your laugh, I need you to hold my hand
Let’s take a walk through our past, I know this ain’t what we planned
I see us
Riding horses on the beach, Dancing in the rain
Whiskey talking all night long, We had so much to say
Our little cabin in the woods, Singing our songs to the moon
We talked about forever, not knowing that it would end so soon
If you don’t stop cryin’, You’ll never see
I need to hear our song once more, Before the darkness comes for me
Baby don’t you cry no more, It won’t be long until I’m free
Don’t let those tears rolling down your face, be the last thing I see
If you don’t stop cryin’ You’ll never see
Stream Cajun Queen on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Goin’ down to New Orleans
I’m goin’ to find me a Cajun queen
Long legged
High life
Goin’ dance that woman all night
Take her up to Memphis
Show her where the good blues lives
Hot nights
Hot licks
Com’on baby, show me your tricks
Take her home to Austin
I’m goin’ to show her off to my kin
Long legged
Wild eyed
Might make that Cajun woman my wife
Stream Shorter the Skirt on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Saturday night, down to the bar, goin’ to toss back a few
Walked, Lordy boys, there wasn’t nothin’ I could do
Stick in her hand, by the pool table, long, tan and lean
And her hemline wasn’t anywhere close to her knees
The shorter the skirt, the longer my confession
Now some men get up hung by a tiny little wasp waist
Other men fall victim to a pretty young face
A romantic man search for those deep soulful eyes
I always get tripped up by those dangerous thighs
The shorter the skirt, the longer my confession
The shorter the skirt, the longer my confession
My mama and my preacher they can tell right away
They rattle off scripture just to make me obey
But there’s nothing they do, Lord, there’s nothing they can say
A rockin’ pair of stems is always goin’ to make me stray
I turned around to leave, I was goin’ to head back home
I knew in my heart I’d be better off all alone
But I turned to look, there she was, bent over to shoot
Well what the hell, its just my soul, a small thing to lose
The shorter the skirt, the longer my confession
The shorter the skirt, the longer my confession
Stream Stolen Horses on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I’m ridin’ stolen horses, runnin’ through the night
I’m goina find that man I’ve got killin’ on my mind
Don’t know where we’re ridin’ and I don’t rightly care
The job I have ahead of me is more than I can bear
I can’t be forgivin’ for what I’ve got to do
I see him ridin’ on that ridge up ahead
I intend to catch that man, I intend to see him dead
His horse is strainin’, it’s been running half the night
The cold fog cuts me to my bone, the ridge breaks morning’s light
I don’t care if I see his eyes, or if he ever sees mine
I buried her yesterday, I put her in an early grave
Took the ring from her finger, put it next to mine, the ring she gave me
I have my revolver drawn and I squeeze the trigger tight
He falls from the saddle, he falls out of sight
I cried and I wailed, as that bastard fell
I know I’ve bought my ticket straight down to hell
I can’t be forgivin’ for what I’ve done
I’m ridin’ stolen horses
I’m ridin’ stolen horses
Forever on
Stream Right Way on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
When I call, she can’t be found
She tells me she’s a little tightly wound
And she says that I bring her down
In just the right way
She only has high gear, chases early morning alarms
She cuts business deal using her brains and her charms
But tonight when she’s dancing, slowly in my arms, it will
In just the right way
She wants to get away from the world
She wants a moment to be free
She wants someone else take control for a while
And tonight, yeah tonight, I guess that’s me . . . . . .
But when I look in those blue eyes
And I feel her skin next to mine
And I feel two hearts keepin’ time
In just the right way
Stream Let’s Kill Adam on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Cain done in his brother, but he should’a killed his dad
Slayed good ‘ol Abel ’cause Abel was so God damn bad
Banished with a wink to Nod, Eve cried for his sins
Yeah, Cain done wrong but he should’a just done the old man in
Should’a killed his daddy, nailed Eve to the cross
Sacrifice the old son of a bitch, show Adam who’s boss
Where was Joseph when Jesus was up there dangling on the stick
Mother Mary made it to the Passion Play, but Old Joe phoned in sick
Absentee dad let his boy piss off the authorities
Yeah, Jesus should’a nailed old Joseph to the tree
Should’a killed his stepdad, made him tote that heavy cross
Do in Mother Mary’s man, show him God’s is still boss
San Diego bound, goin’ track him down, put bullet to the brain
Paternal rocks of ages echo patricidal refrains
Oh mama, dear, sweet mama, don’t ya weep for me
Your rotten apple is goin’ straight back up the tree
My old man ain’t no saint, maybe the devil in disguise
Exterminate that reprobate, send hell a big surprise
Stream Sentimental Nightmares on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I think about my first love, too often I fear
And the day I walked away, left her drowning in her tears
Maybe I could of hung on, but it just wasn’t time
She, I what I did, still linger in my mind
I got those sentimental nightmares
And they won’t let me sleep
I’ve seen family and friends they come and then go
Where some of them ended up, I still don’t know
My home is filled with a thousand old memories
Each one haunts me more than it brings me peace
I got those sentimental nightmares
And they won’t let me sleep
Sentimental Nightmares, soft as flesh and hard as bone
Ghosts of my past they just won’t leave me alone
I’ll see a pickup truck and think my old man is in the driver’s seat
We strung miles of barb wire in the merciless summer heat
I think of him every time I knock dust off my boots
I miss the old cuss who gave me my cowboy roots
I got those sentimental nightmares
And they won’t let me sleep
Her ashes are on the mantle, in a box so small
All those years we planned out together now mean nothing at all
It so hard to see light when clouded in black
So hard to move forward when if keep looking back
I got those sentimental nightmares
And they won’t let me sleep
I got those sentimental nightmares
And they run too God damn deep
Stream Old Friend Jack on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I’ve got a paper bag, and in it’s a new bottle of Jack Black
I said I’ve got a paper bag darlin’, and in it’s a new bottle of Jack Black
I’ll drink a toast to you babe, as I lay myself down on your tracks
The pain’s too big, you put me through your grinder
I kept lookin’ for the good woman in you, but when I looked it got harder and harder to find her
I’ll just keep lickin’ my wound and nursin’ this bottle
Old Man Daniels is much kinder, than you
The bottle’s empty, the bottle’s empty, Lord that’s true
But it’s fuller than your heart woman, and a damn sight warmer too
Well, me and good friend Jack, we’ll get by fine without you
Yeah, me and good friend Jack Daniels, we’ll get by fine without you
Yeah, me and good friend Jack, we’ll goin’ to get by fine without you
Stream Austin via Dallas on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
It’s a good town for a gig
But a lousy town to get paid
Shreveport always treats me that way
Hitching rides on highway 20
Headin’ further south
When a black Merceded slowed way down
Passenger window slid
Saw her face in dashboard light
Grabbed my guitar case and I jumped inside
She was lean and tan, dressed just right
She stomped the gas, spun the tires
Her eyes were holding back about a thousand fires
“You a performer?” she asked
Just a songwriter, I confessed
She said, “Actually now I’m a hell of a lot more impressed.”
“You see, the songwriter’s got a poet’s heart.”
She said with her lips tightly curled
“And that just melts the heart of this working girl.”
About ten miles up the road
She veered off into a rest stop track
And parked in dark corner way out in back
In one quick move she spun around
She kissed me hard, I put up no fight
“Songman,” she said “You’re mine tonight.”
If there be a place between heaven and hell
She took every step of the way there
Biting lips, grinding hips and pulling hair
She was heat, animal, fire and lust
The she said “This one is on me
‘Cause even us pros have passions we have to feed.”
I half-assed pulled myself up right
Glowing, she rocked us down the highway
Another 20 miles or so before she peeled away
“Your road to Austin is over there,”
I let myself out, she blew me a kiss
Then punched that Mercedes straight on down to Dallas
And through to dark, the weak moon light
I saw her vanity plate as she sped out of sight
And all that license plate said was “Alice”
Copyright 2015, Guy Smith
Stream Dagger Heart on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
She wielded love like a knife, he wore his heart on his sleeve
Her needs came and they went, he had a need to believe
In a Frisco coffee house, his songs poured like merlot
Into her ears and her veins, she just had to say “hello”
Heart lighter than air, his poetic eclipse
Odes to romance, a smile stretched on his lips
They talked away hours, shared the morning’s afterglow
Packed both their bags and they hit the road
His gigs became fewer once they reached Santa Fe
She wanted to run, he held her close anyway
His love became her anger, his heart wanted to explode
Then that night in Tulsa, she didn’t make the show
In a dirty backstage room, he wrote songs of disperse
Confusion soaked lyrics, minor chords hung in the air
His poetry poisoned, fear rattling his bones
He peered through the spot light, he knew he was alone
Bend them ‘till you break, drink away the ache
Music pours like sweat, spend all night awake
Was she really there, did she ever care
Did she know she would make a heart with a tear
At a truck stop near Dallas, his wallet now hers
An 18 wheel Jimmy took off in a blur
Stranded, abandoned, his soul stuffed in a case
His thumb in the air, the exhaust fumes his face
Now only sorrow and whiskey and sorrow
Hold back his rage
Growling out lonesome blues
On a Memphis tonk stage
Copyright 2004, Guy Smith
Stream This Old Guitar on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
This old guitar echoes the worn and tattered fret board of my soul
We share the dents and scratches of a life that did not gently unfold
From the San Francisco shoreline, back to our youthful southern pride
This old guitar and I couldn’t part ways if I tried
Silent six strings sat next to me at a truck stop outside of Memphis
Thumb out in the pouring rain, heading to a job in Los Banos
We’ve charmed a few women, we once charmed a friend’s wife
This old guitar knows the best and darkest moments of my life
This old guitar can pull the poison from me
We’ve sung the blues about lost love
I reach for it when the bottle calls
I can never let this old guitar get far
This old guitar has healed the wounds left by unfaithful lovers
We serenaded stars in the night sky and discovered
The rhythms of my heart and the harmonies of the flesh
Our sullen wonderings and our eternal restlessness
We played loud and sloppy at all night parties out west
We played soft, low and sweet when we laid a dear friend to rest
We hear the road calling and recount the endless miles
This old guitar and me have been one for a while
This old guitar knows me to the bone
In these years I’ve never felt alone
When its time to put me in the ground
Make sure this old guitar follows me down
This old guitar echoes the worn and tattered fret board of my soul
Copyright 2017, Guy Smith
Stream The Devil’s Prayer on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I felt him before I saw him
As I slowly lifted my chin
Stench, something worse than death
Heat pulsing from blistered skin
He smiled with eerie confidence
Showing teeth, sharp, caked with grime
Took a fat ledger from his coat and said
“I’ve come to collect what is mine”
“Let’s talk about that gal in Reno
Or the only you left in Baton Rouge
You broke a few hearts, didn’t you boy
So, it’s my job to now break you”
He hissed and spoke, he shook his coat
So the brimstone would fall away
He said “Let’s not forget all that whiskey
No damn way I’ll overlook the mescaline”
Roached crawled around his boots
The ground beneath us shook
As he read down my list of crimes
The sky went dark, like the end of times
Oh, just like the end of times
“How about your boy, the one you never raised
Today he’s sitting in a county cell
Or the widow your made back in Omaha
I’ll let you share her privet hell”
“You got me dead to rights, Old Scratch
I won’t fight you, and I won’t crawl
But give me one small moment so I
Can say a little pray for your soul”
His jaw clenched, his face twitched
Yet he never said a word
Stuffed that old ledger in his coat
And broke a grin as he turned
The sky turned gray as he slaked away
Boot print cinders glowing red
He tossed that worn old ledger aside
“Thank you son,” was all he said
Copyright 2016, Guy Smith
Stream Last Duet on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I wish I could remember our last duet
Which stage we shared, the songs in our set
I can’t hear the chorus, or our harmonies
I wish I remembered that moment that was you and me
Did we sing a rainbow, a nod to Mister Prine
Or did we do Carl’s drunken rendezvous, out heart keeping time
Did we sing about tequila running in our veins
Or lamented a soldier life where the rust rains
When was our last duet
The only thing I do regret
When I can’t feel your breath
Echoing in my mind
The stage is strangely empty, one mic sits cold
Your six string are silent, and I’m growing old
Your face a forever smile, one I can’t forget
But I long to remember out very last duet
Copyright 2012, Guy Smith and Cheryl Mannix-Smith
Stream Rains Rust on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I might feel the pain, if I wasn’t so damn tired
But I spent the whole night long drawing enemy fire
I know you’re home tonight babe, wish I was there with you
But my tour in hell, it ain’t nearly through
Over here, the sky rains rust
Called in a gun truck to clean out a rats nest
Yeah they leveled it to the ground, there wasn’t nothin’ left
Had to clean up their mess, it was a sickening pile
Stacking bodies of combatants, women and a child
Keep our boy next to you mama, keep him safe
‘Cuz I swear I saw his ghost in that dead child’s face
The children here, their sky rains rust
I’ve grown numb to the screams and moans
Even in this band of brothers, I feel so all alone
It takes a hard man to fight this war
If you weren’t hard when you landed here, you will be if you get home
Tripped an I-E-D today, and I just walked away
Didn’t catch a single piece of the burning flack
Tell Rose that Jimmy wasn’t so lucky this time
We poured him into a body bag, in a week she’ll get him back
Today Jimmy’s sky rained rust
Lost my photo of you in an enemy raid
Fading memories of us almost keep me sane
Dance through oil field fires, choke on the dust
Over here the skies are always raining rust
This dirty little war has turned the world to rust
Yeah, this whole battle field is nothing but rust
I can feel my soul grinding down to rust
Yeah, the skies over here, the skies rain rust
Copyright 2002, Guy Smith
Stream One Heartbreak on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I’m standing in the howlin’ rain
Holdin’ down all of this pain
I don’t know where to go, I don’t know what to do
Now that I don’t have you
I just want to leave darlin’
But I just want you to stay
I’m one heartbreak away from the grave
I’m one heartbreak away from the grave
This old heart of mine
Has been down one too many times
Can’t take the cheatin’ babe
Don’t want your lies
I saw you smilin’ at him
I had to fade away
I’m one heartbreak away from the grave
I’m one heartbreak away from the grave
Ever since I lost you babe
I’ve got nothin’ left to lose
I’m spillin’ whiskey every night
Tryin’ to drink away these blues
So buy me one last bottle darlin’
Then just walk away
I’m one heartbreak away from the grave
I’m one heartbreak away from the grave
Copyright 2001, Guy Smith
Stream Perfect and Eternal on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Decades of highway ahead of me
Some rocky roads left far behind
In this world where nothing is forever
I find it’s you who’s always on my mind
Your love is perfect and eternal
It shines through my darkest days
And though the future can’t be told
I know you’ll light our way
It doesn’t matter blessings the day brings
Or what demons lurks in night so cold
I am without want, need or fear
When I have you to hold
You are the rose that has no thorn
You are the chords of our song
You have all of me in our here and now
You’ll have when our days are gone
Decades of highway ahead of me
Some rocky roads left far behind
In this world where nothing is forever
I find it’s you who’s always on my mind
Copyright 2003, Guy Smith
Stream Purgatory of Your Love on …” |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
My bags were packed, but I couldn’t walk away
I can’t leave you, but Christ, I don’t want to stay
Your heart is a dungeon, my soul lost the key
I’m damned to the purgatory of your love
Consumed by burning passion, offered false salvation
Doomed to eternally suffer your temptations
I’ve fallen from grace, friends don’t know me now
I’m burning in the purgatory of your love
I’ve tried all my prayers to be delivered from you side
I’ve tried forgiving all those times you lied
If God is sober, he’s laughing at my fate
And the devil weeps for me tonight
Release me from this torture, release from your spell
Your promise of heaven has become my private hell
Love is eternal, so today I’d gladly die
To escape the purgatory of your love
Copyright 1999, Guy Smith
Stream Too Far Away on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stagger down Bourbon Street in a Jack Daniels haze
Two man zydeco band struggles on stage
Violent drum machines are raping my ears
The bathroom is just too damn far away from here
I’m too far away from you and I’m too close to blue
I’m too far away from you and I’m too close to blue
Drunk businessmen croak out karaoke blues
Been traveling too much, paying too many dues
There’s miles and miles of empty bar
Each inch is lined with empty tip jars
I’m too far away from you and I’m too close to blue
I’m too far away from you and I’m hanging out with some Mardi Gras crue
Jazz saxophones pounding my brain
Toss back another one of them hurricanes
March up and down this asphalt dance floor
Just keep going ’til you just can’t take it any more
Strip club barkers, street side nubetees
Frat boys stagger in sloppy arrays
Booze assaults my tired brain
As we break into a Creole refrain
I’m too far away from you and I’m too close to blue
I’m too far away from you and I’m stuck down in the bayou
Copyright 1996, Guy Smith
Stream Old, Wounded and Dangerous on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
You left me alone, you left me for dead
Ripped out my heart and smiled as I slowly bled
And I’m crippled, and I’m sprawled out on the track
And you walk away without even looking back
I struggle each and every day
Search through my pain for the words to say
I don’t want to live in this hell, but I must
‘Cause you left me, and I’m old, wounded and dangerous
Your ghost chases me through whiskey soaked dreams
I guess our past is not what it seemed to me
And my future is black as night, a pointless charade
Growing darker still as your memory fades
God I don’t know why I even try
I should just walk off the bridge and float out with the tide
Left my soul slowly turn to rust
‘Cause you left me old, wounded and dangerous
But somehow, somehow I know I will survive
Even though my hope is near death, it still alive
But no matter where I go in the world, no matter how far
My heart will lay in tatters, and I’ll wear your scars
Living well ain’t no God damned revenge
And pain isn’t cured with a Wild Turkey binge
For me it was love and perfect trust
Now you left me, and I’m old, wounded and dangerous
Copyright 2017, Guy Smith
Stream Ghosts in the Bone on … |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
She flinches when anyone touches, still afraid to tells the cops
And hides behind closed curtains, ‘cause memories of that night won’t stop
While on the street corner he sits, rusted wheelchair, tin cup in hand
Drinking down thoughts of shelling, and the leg he left in Afghanistan
The wife and husband, they no longer talk about it, both have forgotten how to pray
Choking back the tears every time they think about their daughter’s tiny grave
And they’re all just ignoring the ghosts down in their bones
A tired man sits alone in a corner, his nursing home gray and cold
With others abandoned by their children, they’re all just struggling to be old
She worries where life may go, orphaned young and no kin that cared
Heading off in the back of a foster’s car, alone and completely scared
They sit at the bar, maybe they glance, yet they still sit far apart
Cheated before, neither can afford the cost of another broken heart
And they’re all just a little crippled by the ghosts in their bones
We collect and we keep them, and bury them deep
Wear our brave faces in public, and try not to weep
While life heaps on more, we ache, and we groan
Fighting to keep the ghosts buried in our bones
They left bits of their soul scattered along the shoulder of life’s road
Taking life’s punches, entombing fears, all trying not to carry that load
The boy who can’t face a priest, and who walks away from God
Or the girl who can’t face her father, because he made childhood nasty and hard
They rattle within even those, even those without sin, to deal with on our own
Getting by but always fearing the ghosts down in their bones
And we’re all just a little haunted by ghosts in our bones
