Oh mama, don’t you hear me when I call
I am here a week from Tuesday
With my back against the wall
Well, daddy owned a shotgun
Mama played bassoon
And I was born in Arkansas
With a clear shot at the moon
And baby deals in goldfish, her daddy owns a gun
I’m a thousand miles from anywhere
And I’m stranded on the run, let me hear you sing
So look into your crystal ball
And tell me what you see
You may see my image there
But baby that ain’t me
And you may see old Martin
A piece of me is there
When that’s all you got to care about
That’s about all you got to care
Let me hear you sing
I could have been a warrior, given to the fight
But you settle all things easily
And you always know what’s right
And you’re always dealing nighttime
Making odds against daylight
You made a mess of my poor brain
And you gave me an awful fright
Let me hear you sing
I could have been a rock ‘n roll star
But things got outta hand
My guitar broke and scattered me
Across this heathen land
Yes and I got hot to gather me up
Because it seemed to me
That if I get me back again
I finally will be free, I will be free
credits
from No Name CD,
released December 24, 2010
Music and Lyrics: Frank Leidt
Keyboards: Larry (LJ) Neff
All else: Frank Leidt
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