Favorite "story ballads" - story telling set to music

Vanity | 2/26/2005 | HairOfTheDog

[HairOfTheDog]

I love a good lyric… imagery in words that remind us of a great character, place or state of mind, even if we've never been there. I wanted to collect and share a few classics that I think are more than a song, they do more than make you want to sing along. They tell an engaging story. These are my favorites that I could think of… I am sure you have some too. I hope you can listen to them, because though the lyrics are good, they are cold without the environment of their music.

In no particular order…

THE WRECK OF THE EDMUND FITZGERALD
Gordon Lightfoot

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called ’Gitche Gumee’
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship’s bell rang
Could it be the north wind they’d been feelin’?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T’was the witch of November come stealin’.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin’.
When afternoon came it was freezin’ rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin’.
Fellas, it’s too rough to feed ya.
At seven p.m. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it’s been good t’know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin’ in
And the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say they’d have made whitefish bay
If they’d put fifteen more miles behind her.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
May have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams;
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below lake Ontario
Takes in what lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the maritime sailors’ cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call ’Gitche Gumee’.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!

THE GUNNER'S DREAM
Pink Floyd (Waters)

Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now.
In the space between the heavens
and in the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream.
I had a dream.
Good-bye Max.
Good-bye Ma.
After the service when you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold November air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream.
A place to stay
"Oi! A real one ..."
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue kicking in your door.
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore.
And no one kills the children anymore.

Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me insane.
In the corner of some foreign field
The gunner sleeps tonight.
What's done is done.
We cannot just write off his final scene.
Take heed of his dream.
Take heed.

THE LAST RESORT
The Eagles

She came from Providence,
The one in Rhode island
Where the old world shadows hang
Heavy in the air
She packed her hopes and dreams
Like a refugee
Just as her father came across the sea

She heard about a place people were smilin’
They spoke about the red man’s way,
And how they loved the land
And they came from everywhere
To the great divide
Seeking a place to stand
Or a place to hide

Down in the crowded bars,
Out for a good time,
Can’t wait to tell you all,
What it’s like up there
And they called it paradise
I don’t know why
Somebody laid the mountains low
While the town got high

Then the chilly winds blew down
Across the desert
Through the canyons of the coast, to
The Malibu
Where the pretty people play,
Hungry for power
To light their neon way
And give them things to do

Some rich men came and raped the land,
Nobody caught ’em
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus People bought ’em
And they called it paradise
The place to be
They watched the hazy sun, sinking in the sea

You can leave it all behind
And sail to Lahaina
Just like the missionaries did, so many years ago
They even brought a neon sign: ’Jesus is coming’
Brought the white man’s burden down
Brought the white man’s reign

Who will provide the grand design?
What is yours and what is mine?
’cause there is no more new frontier
We have got to make it here

We satisfy our endless needs and
Justify our bloody deeds,
In the name of destiny and the name
Of god

And you can see them there,
On Sunday morning
They stand up and sing about
What it’s like up there
They call it paradise
I don’t know why
You call someplace paradise,
Kiss it goodbye

THE DOWNEASTER ALEXA
Billy Joel

Well I’m on the Downeaster Alexa
And I’m cruising through block island sound
I have chartered a course to the vineyard
But tonight I am Nantucket bound

We took on diesel back in Montauk yesterday
And left this morning from the bell in Gardner's bay
Like all the locals here I’ve had to sell my home
Too proud to leave I worked my fingers to the bone

So I could own my Downeaster Alexa
And I go where the ocean is deep
There are giants out there in the canyons
And a good captain can’t fall asleep

I’ve got bills to pay and children who need clothes
I know there’s fish out there but where God only knows
They say these waters aren’t what they used to be
But I’ve got people back on land who count on me

So if you see my Downeaster Alexa
And if you work with the rod and the reel
Tell my wife I am trolling Atlantis
And I still have my hands on the wheel

Now I drive my Downeaster Alexa
More and more miles from shore every year
Since they told me I can’t sell no stripers
And there’s no luck in swordfishing here

I was a bayman like my father was before
Can’t make a living as a bayman anymore
There ain’t much future for a man who works the sea
But there ain’t no island left for islanders like me

ALLENTOWN
Billy Joel

Well we’re living here in Allentown
And they’re closing all the factories down
Out in Bethlehem they’re killing time
Filling out forms
Standing in line
Well our fathers fought the second world war
Spent their weekends on the jersey shore
Met our mothers in the USO
Asked them to dance
Danced with them slow
And we’re living here in Allentown
But the restlessness was handed down
And it’s getting very hard to stay
Well we’re waiting here in Allentown
For the Pennsylvania we never found
For the promises our teachers gave
If we worked hard
If we behaved
So the graduations hang on the wall
But they never really helped us at all
No they never taught us what was real
Iron and coke
And chromium steel
And we’re waiting here in Allentown
But they’ve taken all the coal from the ground
And the union people crawled away
Every child had a pretty good shot
To get at least as far as their old man got
But something happened on the way to that place
They threw an American flag in our face
Well I’m living here in Allentown
And it’s hard to keep a good man down
But I won’t be getting up today
And it’s getting very hard to stay
And we’re living here in Allentown

[tiamat]

Great thread, Hair.

I'm more anxious than ever for my new iPod to arrive.

I'm going to fill it up with some of what we have seen here thiss weekend..

[tiamat]

Does your husband have a good voice?

;-)

[Gabz]

I think he does........But then I can't carry a tune in a pickup truck, so what would I know? :-)

[tiamat]

I can't sing either.

I am mostly "The Appreciative Audience"!

[P.O.E.]

My favorite Al Stewart song: Modern Times

[Gabz]

I can't sing either........but that doesn't mean I don't........as long as I'm alone!!!!!

Otherwise I am also the "appreciative audience"

[RosieCotton]

Just to be a little silly...

THE FROZEN LOGGER

(James Stevens)

As I sat down one evening within a small cafe,
A forty year old waitress to me these words did say:

"I see that you are a logger, and not just a common bum,
'Cause nobody but a logger stirs his coffee with is thumb.

My lover was a logger, there's none like him today;
If you'd pour whiskey on it he could eat a bale of hay

He never shaved his whiskers from off of his horny hide;
He'd just drive them in with a hammer and bite them off inside.

My lover came to see me upon one freezing day;
He held me in his fond embrace which broke three vertebrae.

He kissed me when he was leaving, so hard that he broke my jaw;
I could not speak to tell him he'd forgot his mackinaw.

I saw my lover leaving, sauntering through the snow,
Going gaily homeward at forty-eight below.

The weather it tried to freeze him, it tried its level best;
At a hundred degrees below zero, he buttoned up his vest.

It froze clean through to China, it froze to the stars above;
At a thousand degrees below zero, it froze my logger love.

They tried in vain to thaw him, and would you believe me, sir
They made him into axeblades, to chop the Douglas fir.

And so I lost my lover, and to this cafe I come,
And here I wait till someone stirs his coffee with his thumb."

[solitas]

(lifted from http://cgi2.osk.3web.ne.jp/~brockenb/SongLyrics/RedSovine/Album_TeddyBear.shtml)

Teddy Bear (Red Sovine)

I was on the outskirts of a little southern town,
Trying to reach my destination before the sun went down.
The old CB was blaring away on channel one-nine
When there came a little boy's voice on the radio line.
And he said, "Breaker, one-nine, is anyone there?
Come on back, truckers, and talk to Teddy Bear."
Well, I keyed the mike and I said, "Well, you got it,Teddy Bear."
And the little boy's voice came back on the air.
"'Preciate the break. Who we got on that end?"
I told him my handle, and then he began:

"Now, I'm not supposed to bother you fellas out there,
Mom says you're busy and for me to stay off the air.
But, you see, I get lonely and it helps to talk
'Cause that's about all I can do. I'm crippled and I can't walk."

I came back and told him to fire up that mike
And I'd talk to him as long as he'd like.
"This was my dad's radio," the little boy said,
"But I guess it's mine and Mom's now 'cause my daddy's dead.
Dad had a wreck about a month ago.
He was trying to get home in a blinding snow.
Mom has to work now to make ends meet
And I'm not much help with my two crippled feet.
She says not to worry, that we'll make it all right,
But I hear her crying sometimes late at night.
You know, there's one thing I want more than anything else to see.
Aw, I know you guys are too busy to bother with me,
But, you see, my dad used to take me for rides when he was home
But I guess that's all over now since my daddy's gone."

Not one breaker came on the old CB
As that little crippled boy talked with me.
I tried hard to swallow, the lump just wouldn't stay down
As I thought about my boy back in Greenville town.

"Dad was gonna take Mom and me with him later on this year.
Why, I remember him saying, 'Someday this old truck'll be yours, Teddy Bear.'
But I know I'll never get to ride an 18-wheeler again,
But this old base will keep me in touch with all my trucker friends.
Teddy Bear's gonna back on out now and leave you alone
'Cause it's about time for Mom to come home.
But you give me a shout when you're passing through
And I'll sure be happy to come back to you."

Well, I came back and I said, "Before you go ten-ten,
What's your home-twenty, little CB friend?"
Well, he gave me his address and I didn't once hesitate
'Cause this hot load of freight was just gonna have to wait.
I turned that truck around on a dime
And headed straight for Jackson Street, 229.

And as I rounded the corner, boy, I got one heck of a shock--
Eighteen-wheelers were lined up for three city blocks!
Why, I guess every driver for miles around had caught Teddy Bear's call
And that little crippled boy was having a ball.
For as fast as one driver would carry him in,
Another would carry him to his truck and take off again.
Well, you better believe I took my turn at riding Teddy Bear
And then I carried him back in and put him down in his chair.
And, buddy, if I never live to see happiness again
I want you to know I saw it that day, in the face of that little man.

We took up a collection for him before his mama got home
And each driver said goodbye and then they were all gone.
He shook my hand with a mile-long grin
And said, "So long, trucker, I'll catch you again!"
I hit that interstate with tears in my eyes
And I turned on the radio and I got another surprise.
"Breaker, one-nine," came a voice on the air,
"Just one word of thanks from Mama Teddy Bear.
We wish each and every one a special prayer for you
'Cause you just made my little boy's dream come true.
I'll sign off now before I start to cry.
May God ride with you. Ten-four, and goodbye."

[AmishDude]

Hair will like that.

She likes sailing songs.

I'm sailing away,...
set an open course for the virgin sea
I've got to be free, free to face the life that's ahead of me
On board, I'm the captain, so climb aboard
We'll search for tomorrow on every shore
And I'll try, oh Lord, I'll try to carry on

I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory
Some happy, some sad
I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had
We live happily forever, so the story goes
But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold
But we'll try best that we can to carry on

A gathering of angels appeared above my head
They sang to me this song of hope, and this is what they said
They said come sail away, come sail away
Come sail away with me
Come sail away, come sail away
Come sail away with me

I thought that they were angels, but to my surprise
They climbed aboard their starship and headed for the skies
Singing come sail away, come sail away
Come sail away with me
Come sail away, come sail away
Come sail away with me

[midwestmidnight]

Midwest Midnight
from "Stagepass"(Live at the Agora), 1976, EMI Records Group

With thirteen lovers I hid beneath the covers
   got staples in my hands for my time
With the radio low so the folks don't know
   I proceed with my passion of crime...
And though somewhat obtuse, I've been told this abuse
   will more than likely make me go blind
But with a heart that's aching, it's a risk worth taking
   'cause true love, they say, is so hard to find...

Why can't she see what she's doing to me
   If that bandstand girl only was here
And I'm living the dream, getting lost on the screen,
   doing Presley in front of the mirror...
Hanging around, getting high on the sounds
   of the ladies and electric guitars
Cross a double yellow line to who knows where
   with six sets of glory a night in some bar...

(CHORUS:)
Midwest midnight
Ten thousand watts of holy light
   from my radio so clear...
Bodies glistening, everybody's listening
as the man plays all the hits that you want to hear.

With a will to believe, and my songs on my sleeve
   If only I'd known from the start
Such a sensitive toy, for a suburban boy
   who believed he was suffering for art...
But then something went wrong
   and he watched as his songs
met a slow death of silence, but worse
   He was taken to task, by some critic who asked,
      "Do you write the words or lyrics first..."


(CHORUS)

BRIDGE:
I hear 'em callin':
"Boy, you should be grateful
to get your foot inside the door.
You know there's thousands out there
who would take your place...
This attitude of yours, my son,
well, it lacks the due respect...
You bite the hand that feeds you--
even if you're never fed..."

Chasing the fame keeps 'em all in the game
   But money's still the way they keep score
And nobody told you that you would get older
   strung out like some Avenue whore...
Waiting release, getting shot through the grease,
   some L.A. madonna's maligned
And New York's calling just to see if you've heard
   'bout the great English band
      they just signed....

Take me back to...
(CHORUS:)

Midwest midnight
Ten thousand watts of holy light
   from my radio so clear...
Bodies glistening, is anybody listening?
Does the man still play all the hits that you want to hear...

--words & music by M. Gee/Michael Stanley

[tiamat]

That's Good! Thanks for sharing it!

(Has a starship, too! )

I don't think I've ever heard it.

Who does it?

[tiamat]

Your "Teddy Bear" song...

::::sniffle::::


(You must be a Mac person, too! )

[AmishDude]

It's Styx, "Come Sail Away". It's a bizarre song. It starts as a romantic ballad and goes into a power ballad. I'm sure you've heard it.

[tiamat]

My husband either has (or had) a bunch of Styx.

(on vinyl sadly)

I'll ask him.

I'm sure he will recognise it.

Thanks.

[AmishDude]

It was among their two greatest hits: "Come Sail Away" and "Lady".

[Thumper1960]

Red Sovine had a way with tearjerker songs.

Here's another favorite.

PHANTOM 309
Recorded by Red Sovine
Words and music by Tommy Faile

Repeat: C/Em/F/G/ - C/Em/F/G/C

I was out on the West Coast, tryin' to make a buck
And things didn't work out, I was down on my luck
Got tired a-roamin' and bummin' around
So I started thumbin' back East, toward my home town.

Made a lot of miles, the first two days
And I figured I'd be home in week, if my luck held out this way
But, the third night I got stranded, way out of town
At a cold, lonely crossroads, rain was pourin' down.

I was hungry and freezin', done caught a chill
When the lights of a big semi topped the hill
Lord, I sure was glad to hear them air brakes come on
And I climbed in that cab, where I knew it'd be warm.

At the wheel sit a big man, he weighed about two-ten
He stuck out his hand and said with a grin
"Big Joe's the name", I told him mine
And he said: "The name of my rig is Phantom 309."

I asked him why he called his rig such a name
He said: "Son, this old Mack can put 'em all to shame
There ain't a driver, or a rig, a-runnin' any line
Ain't seen nothin' but taillights from Phantom 309."

Well, we rode and talked the better part of the night
When the lights of a truck stop came in sight
He said: "I'm sorry son, this is as far as you go
'Cause, I gotta make a turn, just on up the road."

Well, he tossed me a dime as he pulled her in low
And said: "Have yourself a cup on old Big Joe."
When Joe and his rig roared out in the night
In nothin' flat, he was clean out of sight.

Well, I went inside and ordered me a cup
Told the waiter Big Joe was settin' me up
Aw!, you coulda heard a pin drop, it got deathly quiet
And the waiter's face turned kinda white.

Well, did I say something wrong? I said with a halfway grin
He said: "Naw, this happens every now and then
Ever' driver in here knows Big Joe
But son, let me tell you what happened about ten years ago.

At the crossroads tonight, where you flagged him down
There was a bus load of kids, comin' from town
And they were right in the middle, when Big Joe topped the hill
It could have been slaughter, but he turned his wheel.

Well, Joe lost control, went into a skid
And gave his life to save that bunch-a kids
And there at that crossroads, was the end of the line
For Big Joe and phantom 309

But, every now and then, some hiker'll come by
And like you, Big Joe'll give 'em a ride
Here, have another cup and forget about the dime
Keep it as a souvenir, from Big Joe and Phantom 309!"

[tiamat]

That's a cool one.

We've got ghostly truckers now.

Thanks for sharing that.

[tiamat]

Thank you!

:-)

[GodBlessRonaldReagan]

Great song! I saw Harry Chapin three times live - a master entertainer and raconteur. He had a terrific band, too. His bass player had the largest vocal range I'd seen this side of Minnie Riperton.

[Pegra]

I have been looking for lyrics from a "trucker song" about a flight running low on fuel and needing to land, but the airfield has been closed. They try to locate a man that used to run the airfield to turn on the lights but can't find him. A trucker overhears the message on his CB and contacts all of the truckers in the area, and as the pilot comes in for a landing, thinking he is going to land in darkness, he sees the runway lit up by the truckers that joined together to line up with their lights.

I thought it was a song by Red Sovine, but I can't seem to find it anywhere.

Has anyone heard the song, know the name, or the artist?

It's driving me crazy.

Thanks,

Peg