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The Trip
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Dave Rawlings Machine
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1
Whistles blowing, people get on trains
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Without knowing where they're going
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Someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's teacher going down the road
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With a body, a handkerchief, and a hatchet from an unspeakable crime
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But there's no one waiting for them, there's no judgement down the line
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Banjos ring and chickens squall, and little babies crow
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The winter leaves, and the spring unwinds, and summer comes again you know
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Pink is the color of my true love's dress, and black is the color of her heart
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But I could never leave old Virgini', and so it never parts
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Ebony face, ebony nails, ebony coffin on the rails
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Moving south, C-O-D, going home to mother
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Some said for valor, for glory, for treasure, for pride
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Sometimes brother hates brother
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[Chorus]
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So take a trip wherever your conscience has to roam
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It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
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My boots are cracked with road dirt and asphalt, spit, and broken dreams
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Chewing gum and safety pins, all what hold me in at the seams
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My pegs are loose, my screws too tightly wound to get in tune
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But I still try sometimes on those golden summer afternoons
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[Chorus]
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So take a trip wherever your conscience has to roam
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It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
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[Instrumental solo]
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There's a picture of an old black man, in a beaver hat
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He wears a hidden smile and a pair of white spats
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Don't pretend you didn't notice his stare
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You're edgy, and sweating, and loaded for bear
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The skeletons dance tonight, bring your bottle and your boots
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And your mandolin that Bianca Alatorre tried to shoot
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Oh but what's a bullet hole or two between friends?
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And who can say when the well goes dry where the story ends?
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[Chorus]
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So take a trip wherever your conscience has to roam
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It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
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[Instrumental solo]
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Hotel lives and hotel wives that come and go with the sheets
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But what's a marriage if it can't be held up to kitchen heat?
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Once I knew each valley and that beautiful shore
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But I don't go to the summer fair much anymore
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[Chorus]
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So take a trip wherever your conscience says to roam
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It's much too much to try and live a lie at home
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Your harmonica is blow baby, throw it away
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Your denim shirt is ragged and your dirty collar is frayed
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I tried to play my horn for you, but I couldn't seem to find a note
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So I picked up pen and paper, and this is what I wrote
48
[Chorus]
49
Go take a trip wherever your conscience has to roam
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It's much too hard to try to live a lie at home
51
[Instrumental solo]
Dave Rawlings Machine - Going to Califor...
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