1. |
conscience
03:13
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This is your conscience calling
These are good intentions gone wrong
This is your conscience calling
What are you good for, where have you gone?
If you could remake all your mistakes and learn from every disaster
What are you looking for? What are you after?
If you could right all those wrongs, sort out what truly belongs
This is your consciousness calling for a halt
This is your inner self speaking in tongues
One day you'll write a song. One day you'll figure it out
This is your inner self letting go
Of all your self-doubt. Regaining some control
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2. |
prophets & poets
04:19
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Intro
a|—0—2—3—5
Am F C G x2
a|—0—2—3—5
Am F C G
This song aint mine it was given to me
Am F C G
By a man whos name ive lost in drink
Am F C G
He was old as sin and dressed in black
Am F C G
Had an old guitar slung across his back
Am F C G
Well it wasnt much just a couple chords
Am F C G
But the words he spoke live in im my soul
And he said…
F F/G Am G
Here they lie all the decent folks
F C G
Last of the poor boys all their stories told
F F/G Am G
And you can run till your feet are sore
F C G
Their gonna catch you a pen aint no sword
F C G
You can waste away weaving words
F C G
Prophets and poets become folklore
Bridge
Am C G x3
F G
a|—0—2—3—5
Am F C G
thats an old one so pass it on
Am F C G
Been telling it since before the war
Am F C G
See i been beaten down by the open road
Am F C G
Been torn apart all i got is soul
Am F C G
And demons walk breathing down my neck
Am F C G
Aint got a dime every red cent spent
And he said…
F F/G Am G
here they lie all the decent folks
F C G
Last of the poor boys all their stories told
F F/G Am G
you can run till your feet are sore
F C G
devil will catch you a pen aint no sword
F C G
You can waste away weaving words
F C G
Prophets and poets become folklore
Bridge
Am C G x3
F G
Am C G
They say hungry wolves are gonna get fed
Am C G
And pigs go to slaughter ya they get bled
F C G
Your in the middle of a burning bridge
F C G
Tread too close you're on the ledge
F C G
Poets lost prophecy ends
F C G Am
To rare to die to strange to live
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3. |
wolf rock
03:11
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4. |
copper moon
04:52
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Am
What's a man to do
G
Got nothin to lose
F#m7
But the copper moon
F E
Keeps him In tune
Am
I look like hell
G
Locked in a warm cell
F#m7
Hear my bell
F E
hell I guess I fell
Am
You look down
G
From your big tall horse
F#m7
Sip my bottle
F E
stay the course
Am
Cold bed of dirt
G
I'm accustomed too
F#m7
The finer things
F E
That you can lose
Gm
Drink till you drown drown
F#m7
Your sorrows down down
Gm
Ya drink it down down
F#m7
Until you drown drown
F
It's the copper moon
C
Take another pull
G
Drain the bottle
F
Fill your empty soul
Burn another smoke
C G
Go on spin your rope
Am
You got a mouth for war
G
I'll burn your name
F#m7
You want a little peace
F E
then stake your claim
Am
I been torn asunder
G
What's mine ain't mine
F#m7
Raped pillaged and plundered
F E
You crossed the line
Am
When i was young
G
I had the whole world
F#m7
Beautiful love
F E
And two little girls
Am
In a little bed
G
Where she use to rest
F#m7
Took her last breath
F E
And her mother left
Gm
Drink till you drown drown
F#m7
Your sorrows down down
Gm
Ya drink it down down
F#m7
Until you drown drown
F
It's the copper moon
C
Take another pull
G
Drain the bottle
F
Fill your empty soul
Burn another smoke
C G
Go on Spin your rope
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The Jackpines Alberta
Roots rock story telling from the wilds of northern Alberta. Campfire punk ballads for the working class. Boreal blues for broken souls.
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