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

[Tribune7]

That's C. Davis as in Chip Davis.

That's right -- the writer of Convoy is the founder of Mannheim Steamroller.

[SuziQ]

I like Leonard Cohen's music. "Suzanne" is one of Sir SuziQ's favorites. ;o)

[SuziQ]

"Battle of New Orleans" [Johnny Horton]

I LOVE that one!

[SuziQ]

the writer of Convoy is the founder of Mannheim Steamroller.

You reckon he was hoping no one would notice? ;o)

[ecurbh]

Well, most of it is spoken, except for the chorus. You may enjoy this one too:

Everything You Know Is Wrong
By Weird Al Yankovic

I was driving on the freeway in the fast lane
With a rabid wolverine in my underwear
When suddenly a guy behind me in the back seat
Popped right up and cupped his hands across my eyes
I guessed, ’is it uncle frank or cousin louie?
Is it bob or joe or walter?
Could it be bill or jim or ed or bernie or steve? ’
I probably would have kept on guessing
But about that time we crashed into the truck
And as I’m laying bleeding there on the asphalt
Finally I recognize the face of my hibachi dealer
Who takes off his prosthetic lips and tells me

Everything you know is wrong
Black is white, up is down and short is long
And everything you thought was just so important doesn’t matter
Everything you know is wrong
Just forget the words and sing along
All you need to understand is
Everything you know is wrong

I was walkin’ to the kitchen for some golden grahams
When I accidentally stepped into a alternate dimension
And soon I was abducted by some aliens from space
Who kinda looked like jamie farr
They sucked out my internal organs
And they took some polaroids and said I was a darn good sport
And as a way of saying thank you
They offered to transport me back to any point in history that I would care to go
And so I had them send me back to last thursday night
So I could pay my phone bill on time
Just then the disembodied head of colonel sanders started yelling

Everything you know is wrong
Black is white, up is down and short is long
And everything you thought was just so important doesn’t matter
Everything you know is wrong
Just forget the words and sing along
All you need to understand is
Everything you know is wrong

I was just about to mail a letter to my evil twin
When I got a nasty paper cut
And, well, to make a long story short
It got infected and I died
So now I’m up in heaven with st. peter by the pearly gates
And it’s obvious he doesn’t like the nehru jacket that I’m wearing
He tells me that they’ve got a dress code
Well, he lets me into heaven anyway
But I get the room next to the noisy ice machine for all eternity
And every day he runs by screaming

Everything you know is wrong
Black is white, up is down and short is long
And everything you thought was just so important doesn’t matter
Everything you know is wrong
Just forget the words and sing along
All you need to understand is
Everything you know is wrong

[Bear_in_RoseBear]

Two from Tom T. Hall, one funny one sad:

A Week in a Country Jail

One time I spent a week inside a little country jail
And I don’t guess I’ll ever live it down
I was sittin’ at a red light when these two men came and got me
And said that I was speeding through their town

Well, they said, tomorrow morning you can see the judge then go.
They let me call one person on the phone
I thought I’d be there overnight so I just called my boss
To tell him I’d be off but not for long

Well, they motioned me inside a cell with seven other guys
One little barred up window in the rear
My cellmates said if they had let me bring some money in
We ought to send the jailer for some beer

Well, I had to pay him double ’cause he was the man in charge
And the jailer’s job was not the best in town
Later on his wife brought hot bologna, eggs and gravy
The first day I was there I turned it down

Well, next morning they just let us sleep but I was up real early
Wonderin’ when I’d get my release
Later on we got more hot bologna, eggs and gravy
And by now I wasn’t quite so hard to please

Two days later when I thought that I had been forgotten
The sheriff came in chewin’ on a straw
He said, where is the guy who thinks that this is Indianapolis?
I’d like to talk to him about the law.

Well, I told him who I was and told him I was working steady
And I really should be gettin’ on my way
That part about me bein’ who I was did not impress him
He said, the judge’ll be here any day.

The jailer had a wife and let me tell you she was awful
But she brought that hot bologna every day
And after seven days she got to lookin’ so much better
I asked her if she’d like to run away

The next mornin’ that old judge took every nickel that I had
And he said, son, let this teach you not to race.
The jailer’s wife was smilin’ from the window as I left
In thirty minutes, I was out of state.

Homecoming

I guess I should’ve written, Dad, to let you know that I was coming home
I’ve been gone so many years, I didn’t realize you had a phone
I saw your cattle coming in, boy they’re looking mighty fat and slick
I saw Fred at the service station, he told me that his wife is awful sick

You heard my record on the radio, oh, well it’s just another song
But I’ve got a hit recorded and it’ll be out on the market ’fore too long
I got this ring in Mexico, no, it didn’t cost me quite a bunch
When you’re in the business that I’m in, people call it puttin’ up a front

I know I’ve lost a little weight, I guess I am looking kind of pale
If you didn’t know me better, Dad, you’d think that I’d just gotten out of jail
No, we don’t ever call them beer joints, night clubs are the places that I work
You meet a lot of people there, but no, there ain’t much chance of gettin’ hurt

I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there with you all when Momma passed away
I was on the road and when they came and told me it was just too late
I drove by the grave to see her, boy, that really is a pretty stone
I’m glad that Fred and Jan are here, it’s better than you being here alone

Well I knew you’s gonna ask me who the lady is that’s sleeping in the car
That’s just a girl who works for me and, man, she plays a pretty mean guitar
We worked in San Antone last night, she didn’t even have the time to dress
She drove me down from Nashville and to tell the truth I guess she needs the rest

Well, Dad, I gotta go, we got a dance to work in Cartersville tonight
Let me take your number down, I’ll call you, and I promise you I’ll write
Now you be good and don’t be chasin’ all those pretty women that you know
And by the way if you see Barbara Walker tell her that I said hello.

[Tribune7]

This is a Pennsylvania thread. We got Allenton, Thirty Thousand Pounds of Bananas in Scranton, and Convoy which (presumably) smashes through a Philly bridge on the way to the Jersey Shore.

All we need is something from Pittsburgh & Erie.

[A knight without armor]

Ruby, Don't Take Your Love To Town

You’ve painted up your lips
And rolled and curled your tinted hair
Ruby are you contemplating
Going out somewhere
The shadow on the wall
Tells me the sun is going down
Oh ruby
Don’t take your love to town

It wasn’t me
That started that old crazy asian war
But I was proud to go
And do my patriotic chore
And yes, it’s true that
I’m not the man I used to be
Oh, ruby I still need some company

Its hard to love a man
Whose legs are bent and paralysed
And the wants and the needs of a woman your age
Ruby I realize,
But it won’t be long I’ve heard them say until I not around
Oh ruby
Don’t take your love to town

She’s leaving now cause
I just heard the slamming of the door
The way I know I’ve heard it
Some 100 times before
And if I could move I’d get my gun
And put her in the ground
Oh ruby
Don’t take your love to town

Oh ruby for god’s sake turn around



Johnny Reb

You fought all the way
Johnny Reb, Johnny Reb
You fought all the way, Johnny Reb

Saw you a-marchin' with Robert E. Lee
You held your head high tryin' to win the victory
You fought for your folks, but you didn't die in vain
Even tho' you lost they speak highly of your name, 'cause

You fought all the way
Johnny Reb, Johnny Reb
You fought all the way, Johnny Reb

I heard your teeth chatter from the cold outside
Saw the bullets open up the wounds in your side
I saw the young boys as they began to fall
You had tears in your eyes 'cause you couldn't help at all, but

You fought all the way
Johnny Reb, Johnny Reb
You fought all the way, Johnny Reb

I saw Gen'ral Lee raise a sabre in his hand
Heard the cannons roar as you made your last stand
You marched in the battle of the Grey and the Red
When the cannon smoke cleared, took days to count the dead, 'cause

You fought all the way
Johnny Reb, Johnny Reb
You fought all the way, Johnny Reb

When Honest Abe heard the news about your fall
The folks thought he'd call a great vict'ry ball
But he asked the band to play the song Dixie
For you, Johnny Reb, and all that you believe

You fought all the way
Johnny Reb, Johnny Reb
Yeah, you fought all the way, Johnny Reb

You fought all the way
Johnny Reb, Johnny Reb
You fought all the way, Johnny Reb


Ghost Riders In The Sky

An old cowpoke went riding out one dark and windy day
Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way
When all at once a mighty herd of red-eyed cows he saw
A'plowin' through the ragged skies and up a cloudy draw

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o
Ghost riders in the sky

Their brands were still on fire and their hooves were made of steel
Their horns wuz black and shiny and their hot breaths he could feel
A bolt of fear went through him as they thundered through the sky
For he saw the riders comin' hard and he heard their mournful cry

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o
Ghost riders in the sky

Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, and shirts all soaked with sweat
They're ridin' hard to catch that herd but they ain't caught them yet
They've got to ride forever in that range up in the sky
On horses snortin' fire, as they ride on, hear their cry

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o
Ghost riders in the sky

As the riders loped on by him, he heard one call his name
"If you want to save your soul from hell a' ridin' on our range"
"Then cowboy change your ways today or with us you will ride"
"A-tryin' to catch the Devil's herd across these endless skies."

Yi-pi-yi-ay, Yi-pi-yi-o
Ghost riders in the sky
Ghost riders in the sky



Don't Take Your Guns To Town

A young cowboy named Billy Joe grew restless on the farm
A boy filled with wonderlust who really meant no harm
He changed his clothes and shined his boots
And combed his dark hair down
And his mother cried as he walked out

Don't take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don't take your guns to town

He laughed and kissed his mom
And said your Billy Joe's a man
I can shoot as quick and straight as anybody can
But I wouldn't shoot without a cause
I'd gun nobody down
But she cried again as he rode away

Don't take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don't take your guns to town

He sang a song as on he rode
His guns hung at his hips
He rode into a cattle town
A smile upon his lips
He stopped and walked into a bar
And laid his money down
But his mother's words echoed again

Don't take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don't take your guns to town

He drank his first strong liquor then to calm his shaking hand
And tried to tell himself he had become a man
A dusty cowpoke at his side began to laugh him down
And he heard again his mothers words

Don't take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don't take your guns to town

Filled with rage then
Billy Joe reached for his gun to draw
But the stranger drew his gun and fired
Before he even saw
As Billy Joe fell to the floor
The crowd all gathered 'round
And wondered at his final words

Don't take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don't take your guns to town


The Ballad Of Paladin

Have Gun Will Travel reads the card of a man.
A knight without armor in a savage land.

His fast gun for hire meets the calling wind.
A soldier of fotune is the man called Paladin.

Paladin, Paladin
Where do you roam?
Paladin, Paladin,
Far, far from home.

He travels on to where ever he must
a chess knight of silver is his badge of trust
There are campfire legends that the plainsmen spin
of the man with the gun
of the man called paladin

Paladin, Paladin
Where do you roam?
Paladin, Paladin,
Far, far from home.
Far, far from home.
Far, far from home.



North To Alaska

North to Alaska
Go north, the rush is on
Big Sam left Seattle in the year of ninety-two
With George Pratt, his partner and brother Billy, too
They crossed the Yukon River and found the bonanza gold
Below that old white mountain, just a little southeast of Nome

Sam crossed the majestic mountains to the valleys far below
He talked to his team of huskies as he mushed on through the snow
With the northern lights a runnin' wild in the land of the midnight sun
Yes Sam McCord was a mighty man
in the year of nineteen-one

Where the river is windin'
Big nuggets they're findin'
North to Alaska
Go north, the rush is on

George turned to Sam with his gold in his hand
Said, "Sam, you're lookin' at a lonely, lonely man
I'd trade all the gold that's buried in this land
For one small band of gold
To place on sweet Jenny's hand

'Cause a man needs a woman to love him all the time
You know Sam, a true love is so hard to find
I'd build for my Jenny a honeymoon home
Beneath that old white mountain
Just a little south of Nome."


Wolverton Mountain

They say don’t go on wolverton mountain
If you’re looking for a wife
’cause clifton clowers has a pretty young daughter
He’s mighty handy with a gun and a knife.

Her tender lips are sweeter than honey
And wolverton mountain protects her there
The bears and birds tell clifton clowers
If a stranger should wander there.

All of my dreams are on wolverton mountain
I want his daughter for my wife
I’ll take my chances and climb that mountain
Though clifton clowers, he may take my life.

Her tender lips are sweeter than honey
And wolverton mountain protects her there
The bears and birds tell clifton clowers
If a stranger should wander there.

I’m going up on wolverton mountain
It’s too lonesome down here below
It’s just not right to hide his daughter
From the one who loves her so

Her tender lips are sweeter than honey
And wolverton mountain protects her there
The bears and birds tell clifton clowers
If a stranger should wander there

But I don’t care about clifton clowers
I’m gonna climb up on his mountain
I’m gonna take the girl I love
I don’t care about clifton clowers
I’m a gonna climb up on that mountain
And I’ll get the one I iove
I don’t care about clifton clowers,
I’m gonna find the one I love,
I don’t care about clifton clowers
I’m gonna find the one I love

[HairOfTheDog]

These are great.

ecurbh is playing his Weird Al selections for me at the moment... I'd like for him to go find some of these other 'nice' examples!

[HairOfTheDog]

There are a lot of songs about Pennsylvania... Plus we got sailors gamblers, cowboys and criminals.

[HairOfTheDog]

Good ones!

[Tribune7]

I'm a Cohen fan too. Closing Time and The Future were perfect Clinton era songs.

[Tribune7]

You reckon he was hoping no one would notice? ;o)

I want to see the Steamroller cover the song!!

[Tribune7]

It's a great thread.

[HairOfTheDog]

I thought it was a fun idea for a Saturday, glad so many are playing along!

[John Will]

Iced Earth,
I was going to point a few lyrics then I relized how many songs of theirs are story ballads.

Heres a Few

Attila
He's ruled them for twenty years
And ravaged as their king
Conquest burns in his eyes
And ice shoots through his veins
Their leader's new ambitions lie
Further to the West
The Empire that he seeks
The Father to the Rest
Attila wants to take his place
Like the impetuous son
To make the entire world bow
To the kingdom of the huns

Alliance has been made
With many other clans
Frank and Vandal forces
Held within his hand
And by Attila's hand it's said
His brother met with death
To make his rule his legacy
He did his awful best
Ethele and Etzell
By many names he's known
But "Scourge of God" is the one
That rings the darkest tone

[CHORUS]
Hell awaits behind Gaul's gates
The Roman's stand only to fall
They will die by his sword
The barbarian lord
Attila hear's victory call

[BRIDGE]
[Huns]
Path of Fire and Plunder
Cities burn and crumble
Atila's fate beckons
He will come to conquer

[Romans]
Archers stand at ready
Centurions all together
Keep to your lines
And the Mongol's sure to falter

[Huns]
We will surely break them
We will overtake them
Fight till our deaths
On the Christians devastation

[Romans]
They won't overthrow us
God will stand before us
Show us the path to the huns destruction

Sing to the sky, the battle cry
To propogate their fears
As terror is the weapon drawn
When battle has drawn near
And so the conflict is at hand
The gauntlet has been thrown
Contempt for the Christian reign
The poison seed now sewn
And if by chance all is lost
Cut down by Roman steel
We'll suffer not as others have
Broken mind nor broken will

I don't have the space to put the Gettysburg Triogly.

[Tribune7]

bump

[HairOfTheDog]

Keep 'em comin'.... I have to go clean stalls and other unsongworthy things. ;~D

[tiamat]

Tribune7 wrote:

That's C. Davis as in Chip Davis.

That's right -- the writer of Convoy is the founder of Mannheim Steamroller.

---

I would have never guessed!

Thanks!

[tiamat]

Fun thread over here!