1. |
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NEW YORK CITY SHOES BLUES
Written & Composed by Chris Conly (c)2012, BMI.
I like my heels to the sky
Love them red and high
Like them like my guys
Yes I do
But New York calls
For them old black flats
And I just don’t
Wanna step like that
Now I’ve got to wear
These dirty shitty shoes
I’ve got a case
Of the them New York City blues
My Feet are so sad
They want my pretty shoes
Red and high
Just like my guy
I need a driver
To wear my pretty shoes
But all I’ve got’s
This Metrocard
When it rains, it pours
When it snows, it blows
When I get to the club
I’ve got to change all my clothes
Now I’ve got wear
These dirty shitty shoes
I’ve got a case
Of the them New York City blues
All I want
Is an old Honky Tonk
Pull up in my car
With my shoes
I miss them so
I left them on the floor
I left them in L.A.
Where they belong
My mother warned me
But I didn’t think
They’d really bring me
Flat down on my feet
Now I’ve got wear
These dirty shitty shoes
I’ve got a case
Of the them New York City blues
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2. |
Bourbon & The Bed
03:34
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BOURBON AND THE BED
Written & Composed by Chris Conly (c)2012, BMI.
Thanks again for the bourbon and the bed
Now it’s time to rest my head
Where do you turn when you’re down and out?
Gotta find a stranger who can help you out
Trouble walks in and she sits at the bar
Drinkin’ more Bulleit’s gonna make me a star
Juke joint walls and the tales they tell
A long list of fellas who went to hell
End of the night and the bar is full
Broads on tables don’t take no bull
I don’t know what I’ve been told
Wouldn’t trade a bourbon for a pot of gold
Don’t know a soul in this one horse town
Stranger walks in and she buys me a round
No idea where I’m gonna crash
Brings me back to share her stash
Then she says, she just left jail
Petty drug crime and she’s out on bail
Gotta hit the hay - gotta make the most
Gotta wake up before my host
Last thing I do before I hit the road
Write a little letter and I leave it on her head
Thanks again for the bourbon and the bed (4x)
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3. |
Moose, Deer & Drunks
04:23
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MOOSE, DEER & DRUNKS
Written & Composed by Chris Conly (c)2012, BMI.
On my way home from the gig last night
It’s raining cats and dogs
My mind floats into a foggy haze
Keep my eyes on the road
And my hands upon the wheel
And then this song comes to me...
Advice I know, I’ve heard it many times
Just before I leave the house
My father chimes
Buckle up for safety
‘Cause, you never know
Stay awake, keep your eyes on the road
Most of all beware!
Watch out for skunks
Moose, deer, and drunks
Moose, deer, and drunks
SOLO
Mr. Kielor on the radio
My only saving grace
Somehow I’ve got to
Get out of this place
Cats turn into tigers
And dogs into wolves
A pack of hungry animals
Hot upon my trail
But none can compare
With the dangers up ahead
Wisdom from my father
Circling in my head
Buckle up for safety
‘Cause, you never know
Keep your eyes on the wheel
You hands upon the road
Most of all beware!
Watch out for skunks,
Moose, deer, and drunks
Moose, deer, and drunks
SOLO
CHORUS
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4. |
Taxi Cab Missionary
04:15
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TAXI CAB MISSIONARY
Written & Composed by Chris Conly (c)2012, BMI.
Taxi cab missionary is looking at me
I know exactly what he wants me to be
This ain’t the time, and this ain’t the place
Can’t you tell by the look on my face?
Hey Mr. listen up, do you hear?
I’m tryin’ to have a conversation here
You pull up and start yelling at me
Can’t you see that’s not the way to be?
Taxi cab missionary is looking at me
And I don’t know what to say...
Now I don’t pry into your home life
I don’t tell you how to treat your wife
What makes you think you can do that to me?
Last time I checked, my country is still free
Call me old fashioned, call me crazy
Last thing I need it to be having a baby
To bring one into this world full of hate
Why would anybody wanna procreate?
CHORUS
I’ve got nothing against the Pope, you see
I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but I don’t need
Some old man tellin’ me what to do
Givin’ me advice from a guy he never knew
Hey Mr. Taxi driver - keep it to yourself
I keep my God in a book on a shelf
Far away from parks and away from schools
Because missionary work is a game for fools
CHORUS
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Chicken Barn Heroes Brooklyn, New York
"Echoing sounds from the great American songbook, while telling timely tales of love & protest, THE CHICKEN BARN HEROES are dispatching an urban Americana."
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