Decoration Day
Release Date June 17, 2003 - New West Records
Decoration Day is the day many southern churches set aside to place flowers on the graves of their departed loved ones. Drive-By Truckers used this as the title for their New West Records release.Recorded at Chase Park Transduction Studios, Athens, Ga. by David Barbe (Sugar, Son Volt, The Glands). The album was recorded mostly live in the studio over a two-week period. The fifteen songs reflect a two-year period of turmoil that the band had gone through surrounding the making of their critically acclaimed 2000 release Southern Rock Opera. Decoration Day more or less became an album about choices, good and bad, right and wrong, and the consequences of those choices.
The songs come from some dark times. The band had spent several years on the road, recording four albums between tours, and often leaving loved ones back home, to deal with all kinds of financial hardships alone. The same period also saw the passing of several loved ones (some by natural causes, and some not). Eventually the turmoil began to take its toll on the band itself.
Despite the dark nature of most of the songs, the album was a blast to record. New guitarist Jason Isbell joined the band about a year earlier and contributes two amazing songs, including the title cut. Everyone involved seems to have come out the other end of all the previous turmoil. David Barbe rolled the tape, capturing the band in its finest form ever. Seven of the songs were first takes (with about five second takes), yet for the first time, the band had the luxury of spending a little more time on the details.
TRACK LISTING
1. The Deeper In2. Sink Hole
3. Hell No, I Ain't Happy
4. Marry Me
5. My Sweet Annette
6. Outfit
7. Heathens
8. Sounds Better in the Song
9. (Something's Got to) Give Pretty Soon
10. Your Daddy Hates Me
11. Careless
12. When the Pin Hits the Shell
13. Do It Yourself
14. Decoration Day
15. Loaded Gun in the Closet
LYRICS
THE DEEPER IN
By the time you were born there were four other siblings
with your Mama awaiting your Daddy in jail
Your oldest brother was away at a home
and you didn't meet him til you were nineteen years old
Old enough to know better, old enough to know better
but you took to his jaw line and long sandy hair
How he made you feel like none of the others
and the way he looked at you touched you deep down in there.
So you jumped on his bike and rode into the sunset
but the sequel it started with the next morning sun
and the dew on the bike seat and you all a glow
from the love he put in you and a life on the run.
Now, the District Attorney said He might of forgiven
You had lots of reasons to turn out this way
But you'll both go to jail for them four little babies
you made and delivered along the way
Last night you had a dream of a Lord so forgiving
He might show compassion for a heathen He damned
You awoke in a jail cell, alone and so lonely
Seven years in Michigan
Spring 1998 - Athens GA.
{Inspired by a magazine article about the only two people currently serving time in America for consensual brother / sister incest.}
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff
with your Mama awaiting your Daddy in jail
Your oldest brother was away at a home
and you didn't meet him til you were nineteen years old
Old enough to know better, old enough to know better
but you took to his jaw line and long sandy hair
How he made you feel like none of the others
and the way he looked at you touched you deep down in there.
So you jumped on his bike and rode into the sunset
but the sequel it started with the next morning sun
and the dew on the bike seat and you all a glow
from the love he put in you and a life on the run.
Now, the District Attorney said He might of forgiven
You had lots of reasons to turn out this way
But you'll both go to jail for them four little babies
you made and delivered along the way
Last night you had a dream of a Lord so forgiving
He might show compassion for a heathen He damned
You awoke in a jail cell, alone and so lonely
Seven years in Michigan
Spring 1998 - Athens GA.
{Inspired by a magazine article about the only two people currently serving time in America for consensual brother / sister incest.}
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff
SINK HOLE
I've always been a religious man, I;ve always been a religious man
but I met the banker and it felt like sin, he turned my bailout down
The Banker Man, he let into me, let into me, let into me
The Banker Man, he let into me and spread my name around
He thinks I ain't got a lick of sense cause I talk slow and my money's spent
Now, I ain't the type to hold it against, but he better stay off my farm
Cause it was my Daddy's and his Daddy's before
and his Daddy's before and his Daddy's before
Five generations and an unlocked door and a loaded burglar alarm.
Lots of pictures of my purdy family, lots of pictures of my purdy family
lots of pictures of my purdy family in the house where I was born.
House has stood through five tornadoes,
Droughts, floods, and five tornadoes.
I'd rather wrastle an alligator than to face the Banker's scorn
Cause he won't even look me in the eye
He just takes my land and apologize,
with pen, paper, and a friendly smile, he says the deed is done.
The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning, The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning
The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning over what the Banker done.
Like to invite him for some pot roast beef and mashed potatoes and sweet tea
follow it up with some banana pudding and a walk around the farm
Show him the view from McGee Town Hill
Let him stand in my shoes and see how it feels
to lose the last thing on earth that's real
I'd rather lose my legs and arms
Bury his body in the old sink hole Bury his body in the old sink hole
Bury his body in the old sink hole under cold November sky
Then damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
Damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
Damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
and look the Preacher in the eye.
June 2001 - I-65 South, Mobile, AL.
{ Inspired by "The Accountant", a short film by Ray McKinnon.
Academy Award ® Winner Best Live Action Short Film 2001; www.ginnymule.com}
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
but I met the banker and it felt like sin, he turned my bailout down
The Banker Man, he let into me, let into me, let into me
The Banker Man, he let into me and spread my name around
He thinks I ain't got a lick of sense cause I talk slow and my money's spent
Now, I ain't the type to hold it against, but he better stay off my farm
Cause it was my Daddy's and his Daddy's before
and his Daddy's before and his Daddy's before
Five generations and an unlocked door and a loaded burglar alarm.
Lots of pictures of my purdy family, lots of pictures of my purdy family
lots of pictures of my purdy family in the house where I was born.
House has stood through five tornadoes,
Droughts, floods, and five tornadoes.
I'd rather wrastle an alligator than to face the Banker's scorn
Cause he won't even look me in the eye
He just takes my land and apologize,
with pen, paper, and a friendly smile, he says the deed is done.
The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning, The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning
The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning over what the Banker done.
Like to invite him for some pot roast beef and mashed potatoes and sweet tea
follow it up with some banana pudding and a walk around the farm
Show him the view from McGee Town Hill
Let him stand in my shoes and see how it feels
to lose the last thing on earth that's real
I'd rather lose my legs and arms
Bury his body in the old sink hole Bury his body in the old sink hole
Bury his body in the old sink hole under cold November sky
Then damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
Damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
Damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
and look the Preacher in the eye.
June 2001 - I-65 South, Mobile, AL.
{ Inspired by "The Accountant", a short film by Ray McKinnon.
Academy Award ® Winner Best Live Action Short Film 2001; www.ginnymule.com}
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Hell No, I Ain't Happy
There's a lot of bad wood underneath the veneer
She's an overnight sensation after twenty five years
Sharp fast curves, power steering
unroll that twenty, buy me some beer
Ain't too bad, too bad at all, pick up the phone if I ever call
Hell No, I Ain't Happy.
There's a purdy little girl outside the van window
Bout 80 cities down, 800 to go
Six crammed in, we ain't never alone
Never homesick, ain't got no home
Check my mail if you would please, Jenn
Collect my things till I'm in town again
Hell No, I Ain't Happy.
But I get a little closer everyday
Gonna be a long time till I'm back your way.
I've seen just how much I can stand
One night in Kansas City, we thought about killing a man
Seen my number fly by on Interstate Ten
Seen the mountains of Montana at Seven AM.
And I keep it all together for the sake of the kids
Got your fine-ass self on the back of my lids
Hell No, I Ain't Happy.
But I ain't too crappy, too crappy at all.
Jan. 2002 - Highway 666, somewhere in Southern Utah
based on a title from a year earlier.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Wurlitzer Piano: David Barbe
She's an overnight sensation after twenty five years
Sharp fast curves, power steering
unroll that twenty, buy me some beer
Ain't too bad, too bad at all, pick up the phone if I ever call
Hell No, I Ain't Happy.
There's a purdy little girl outside the van window
Bout 80 cities down, 800 to go
Six crammed in, we ain't never alone
Never homesick, ain't got no home
Check my mail if you would please, Jenn
Collect my things till I'm in town again
Hell No, I Ain't Happy.
But I get a little closer everyday
Gonna be a long time till I'm back your way.
I've seen just how much I can stand
One night in Kansas City, we thought about killing a man
Seen my number fly by on Interstate Ten
Seen the mountains of Montana at Seven AM.
And I keep it all together for the sake of the kids
Got your fine-ass self on the back of my lids
Hell No, I Ain't Happy.
But I ain't too crappy, too crappy at all.
Jan. 2002 - Highway 666, somewhere in Southern Utah
based on a title from a year earlier.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Wurlitzer Piano: David Barbe
MARRY ME
Well, my daddy didn't pull out, but he never apologized
Rock and Roll means well, but it can't help tellin' young boys lies.
A baby on the way's a good enough reason to get you out alive
Get you out without having to swallow any pride.
All my friends are restless, all they do is talk it down,
two or eight lanes, it don't matter, it's just another town.
There's a fool on every corner, on every street, in every one
and I'd rather be your fool nowhere than go somewhere and be no one's
So Marry Me, Sweet Thing won't you Marry Me
Your Mama thinks I beat anything she's ever seen.
This old town's alright with me, there's nowhere I'd rather be.
Long as they stay mad at one another, they can't get mad at me
Every time I leave here something bad happens to me
Like a busted hand or finding some man laying where I sleep
She don't mean nothing to me, that's just how it goes round here
It's a cartoon town, I play my part, and I ain't spoke her name in years
So Marry Me.........
I don't want anything I done to be nobody's fault
even if they got more money and mouth than they got balls.
That's just how it went down, right or wrong, it's just that way.
Just cause I don't run my mouth don't mean I got nothing to say....
Marry Me.........
Lyrics by Mike Cooley / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©Wayward Johnson's Music (BMI)
Upright Piano: David Barbe / Jagger Harmony: Clay Leverett
Rock and Roll means well, but it can't help tellin' young boys lies.
A baby on the way's a good enough reason to get you out alive
Get you out without having to swallow any pride.
All my friends are restless, all they do is talk it down,
two or eight lanes, it don't matter, it's just another town.
There's a fool on every corner, on every street, in every one
and I'd rather be your fool nowhere than go somewhere and be no one's
So Marry Me, Sweet Thing won't you Marry Me
Your Mama thinks I beat anything she's ever seen.
This old town's alright with me, there's nowhere I'd rather be.
Long as they stay mad at one another, they can't get mad at me
Every time I leave here something bad happens to me
Like a busted hand or finding some man laying where I sleep
She don't mean nothing to me, that's just how it goes round here
It's a cartoon town, I play my part, and I ain't spoke her name in years
So Marry Me.........
I don't want anything I done to be nobody's fault
even if they got more money and mouth than they got balls.
That's just how it went down, right or wrong, it's just that way.
Just cause I don't run my mouth don't mean I got nothing to say....
Marry Me.........
Lyrics by Mike Cooley / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©Wayward Johnson's Music (BMI)
Upright Piano: David Barbe / Jagger Harmony: Clay Leverett
MY SWEET ANNETTE
(Me and my Annette, we was as fond as we could be
We was set to marry in October 33
I set my sights on courtin' her, as fine as she could be
I never even noticed her best friend Marilee
Took a job at the saw mill and I bought my girl a ring
Had a pre-wedding party, close friends and family
Everything was fine, eatin' homemade ice cream
I swear I never noticed maid of honor, Marilee
My Sweet Annette was left standing at the alter.
Marilee was taken ill, it was several miles from home
Back then it wasn't fittin' for a girl to leave alone
Sweet Annette, she asked me to walk her to the door
As innocent as children back before the war
My Sweet Annette was left standing at the alter.
Lord have mercy for what we done, Lord have mercy when to people get alone
Neither one of us had done anything like that you see
By the next sunset, I had eloped with Marilee,
My Sweet Annette was left standing at the alter.
May 2000 - Dayton, OH.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff / Fiddle: Scott Danborn / High Harmony: Clay Leverett
We was set to marry in October 33
I set my sights on courtin' her, as fine as she could be
I never even noticed her best friend Marilee
Took a job at the saw mill and I bought my girl a ring
Had a pre-wedding party, close friends and family
Everything was fine, eatin' homemade ice cream
I swear I never noticed maid of honor, Marilee
My Sweet Annette was left standing at the alter.
Marilee was taken ill, it was several miles from home
Back then it wasn't fittin' for a girl to leave alone
Sweet Annette, she asked me to walk her to the door
As innocent as children back before the war
My Sweet Annette was left standing at the alter.
Lord have mercy for what we done, Lord have mercy when to people get alone
Neither one of us had done anything like that you see
By the next sunset, I had eloped with Marilee,
My Sweet Annette was left standing at the alter.
May 2000 - Dayton, OH.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
©2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff / Fiddle: Scott Danborn / High Harmony: Clay Leverett
OUTFIT
You want to grow up to paint houses like me, a trailer in my yard till you're 23
You want to be old after 42 years, keep dropping the hammer and grinding the gears
Well, I used to go out in a Mustang, a 302 Mach One in green.
Me and your Mama made you in the back and I sold it to buy her a ring.
And I learned not to say much of nothing and I figured you already know
but in case you don't or maybe forgot, I'll lay it out real nice and slow
Don't call what you're wearing an outfit. Don't ever say your car is broke.
Don't worry about losing your accent, a Southern Man tells better jokes.
Have fun but stay clear of the needle. Call home on your sister's birthday.
Don't tell them you're bigger than Jesus, don't give it away.
Six months in a St. Florian foundry, they call it Industrial Park.
Then hospital maintenance and Tech School just to memorize Frigidaire parts.
But I got to missing your Mama and I got to missing you too.
So I went back to painting for my old man and I guess that's what I'll always do
So don't try to change who you are boy, and don't try to be who you ain't.
And don't let me catch you in Kendale with a bucket of wealthy-man's paint.
Don't call what you're wearing an outfit. Don't ever say your car is broke.
Don't sing with a fake British accent. Don't act like your family's a joke.
Have fun, but stay clear of the needle, call home on your sister's birthday.
Don't tell them you're bigger than Jesus, Don't give it away.
Don't give it away.
Lyrics and Music by Jason Isbell
© 2002 House of Fame Publishing (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff / High Harmony: Clay Leverett
You want to be old after 42 years, keep dropping the hammer and grinding the gears
Well, I used to go out in a Mustang, a 302 Mach One in green.
Me and your Mama made you in the back and I sold it to buy her a ring.
And I learned not to say much of nothing and I figured you already know
but in case you don't or maybe forgot, I'll lay it out real nice and slow
Don't call what you're wearing an outfit. Don't ever say your car is broke.
Don't worry about losing your accent, a Southern Man tells better jokes.
Have fun but stay clear of the needle. Call home on your sister's birthday.
Don't tell them you're bigger than Jesus, don't give it away.
Six months in a St. Florian foundry, they call it Industrial Park.
Then hospital maintenance and Tech School just to memorize Frigidaire parts.
But I got to missing your Mama and I got to missing you too.
So I went back to painting for my old man and I guess that's what I'll always do
So don't try to change who you are boy, and don't try to be who you ain't.
And don't let me catch you in Kendale with a bucket of wealthy-man's paint.
Don't call what you're wearing an outfit. Don't ever say your car is broke.
Don't sing with a fake British accent. Don't act like your family's a joke.
Have fun, but stay clear of the needle, call home on your sister's birthday.
Don't tell them you're bigger than Jesus, Don't give it away.
Don't give it away.
Lyrics and Music by Jason Isbell
© 2002 House of Fame Publishing (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff / High Harmony: Clay Leverett
HEATHENS
Something about the wrinkle in your forehead tells me there's a fit about to get thrown
If we get the van out of the ditch before morning ain't nobody got to know what I done
And I never hear a single word you say when you tell me not to have my fun
It's the same old shit that I ain't gonna take off anyone.
And I don't need to be forgiven by them people in the neighborhood
When we first hooked up, you looked me in the eye
and said "Paw, we just ain't no good".
We were Heathens in their eyes at the time, I guess I am just a Heathen still
and I never have repented from the wrongs that they say I have done
I done what I feel.
It was a difficult delivery, now it's growing up mean and strong
When you tell me that it's getting a little bit tight, ain't the first time I been outgrown
And I'm gonna push a little harder
She ain't revved till the rods are thrown
I'll walk away
And I don't need to be forsaken by you or anybody else
and I never had a shortage of people tryin' to warn me about the dangers I pose to myself.
Heathens.
These times can take their toll sometimes and I know you feel the same way too
It gets so hard to keep between the ditches
when the roads wind the way they do.
Oct. 1998 - Willard's Garage, Richmond VA./
Jan. 1999 - Tammy's yard, Athens, GA. /
June 2000 - Marianne's house, Denton TX.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff / Fiddle: Scott Danborn (Thanks Centro-Matic)
If we get the van out of the ditch before morning ain't nobody got to know what I done
And I never hear a single word you say when you tell me not to have my fun
It's the same old shit that I ain't gonna take off anyone.
And I don't need to be forgiven by them people in the neighborhood
When we first hooked up, you looked me in the eye
and said "Paw, we just ain't no good".
We were Heathens in their eyes at the time, I guess I am just a Heathen still
and I never have repented from the wrongs that they say I have done
I done what I feel.
It was a difficult delivery, now it's growing up mean and strong
When you tell me that it's getting a little bit tight, ain't the first time I been outgrown
And I'm gonna push a little harder
She ain't revved till the rods are thrown
I'll walk away
And I don't need to be forsaken by you or anybody else
and I never had a shortage of people tryin' to warn me about the dangers I pose to myself.
Heathens.
These times can take their toll sometimes and I know you feel the same way too
It gets so hard to keep between the ditches
when the roads wind the way they do.
Oct. 1998 - Willard's Garage, Richmond VA./
Jan. 1999 - Tammy's yard, Athens, GA. /
June 2000 - Marianne's house, Denton TX.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff / Fiddle: Scott Danborn (Thanks Centro-Matic)
SOUNDS BETTER IN THE SONG
When I saw her standing there, with her bright eyes and shining hair,
she was looking back at me.
Some are meant to sing, some are meant to talk and some aren't meant to say a thing.
But when she opened up her mouth and that sweet voice came out
I lost track of my own name.
Now she's found herself, and I lost mine
and I'm just another guy who can't give her anything.
Well the drifter, He holds on to his youth just like it was money in the bank.
And "Lord knows, I can't change" sounds better in the song
than it does with hell to pay.
I might as well of slipped that ring on your finger from a window of a van
as it drove away.
Now she's found herself, and I lost mine
and I'm just another guy who can't give her anything.
Dreams are given to you when you're young enough to dream them
before they can do you any harm.
They don't start to hurt, until you try to hold on to them after seeing how they really are.
She used to dream them with me, every single crazy one,
until they started hurting her too, now she's got some of her own
and outgrowing me, might be the best thing for her she's ever done.
A light that shines as bright as hers can't be kept in the shadows for too long.
A heart that wants to live and a soul that wants to give
can't just sit at home alone.
Lord, she's give me everything and never wanted anything I couldn't give.
Just what was inside of me.
And now she's found herself, and I lost mine
and I'm just another guy who can't give her anything.
Lyrics by Mike Cooley / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© Wayward Johnson's Music (BMI)
Upright Bass: Shonna Tucker ('Activate the Wonder Twins!')
she was looking back at me.
Some are meant to sing, some are meant to talk and some aren't meant to say a thing.
But when she opened up her mouth and that sweet voice came out
I lost track of my own name.
Now she's found herself, and I lost mine
and I'm just another guy who can't give her anything.
Well the drifter, He holds on to his youth just like it was money in the bank.
And "Lord knows, I can't change" sounds better in the song
than it does with hell to pay.
I might as well of slipped that ring on your finger from a window of a van
as it drove away.
Now she's found herself, and I lost mine
and I'm just another guy who can't give her anything.
Dreams are given to you when you're young enough to dream them
before they can do you any harm.
They don't start to hurt, until you try to hold on to them after seeing how they really are.
She used to dream them with me, every single crazy one,
until they started hurting her too, now she's got some of her own
and outgrowing me, might be the best thing for her she's ever done.
A light that shines as bright as hers can't be kept in the shadows for too long.
A heart that wants to live and a soul that wants to give
can't just sit at home alone.
Lord, she's give me everything and never wanted anything I couldn't give.
Just what was inside of me.
And now she's found herself, and I lost mine
and I'm just another guy who can't give her anything.
Lyrics by Mike Cooley / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© Wayward Johnson's Music (BMI)
Upright Bass: Shonna Tucker ('Activate the Wonder Twins!')
(SOMETHING'S GOT TO) GIVE PRETTY SOON
Way you look at me like that, something's got to give pretty soon
Throw it on a camel's back, something's got to give pretty soon
Living hard to chase the dream, way beyond our ways and means
Yours don't mean a goddamn thing.
That's what you said, but, don't believe it.
That shattered look upon your face, something's got to give pretty soon.
Swallow, but can't stand the taste, bark at the wind, chase the moon
Living fast and drinking lots. List of things we haven't got.
Tired of life with the have-nots
That's what you said and I believe it.
Maybe what you need's for someone to send you flowers
Someone strong and mean who can prove he has the power to
show you more than charm and take you on your way
to where you want to be at the end of the day
and it breaks my heart in two to know it ain't meant to be
but, it ain't me. It ain't me.
And you say it's these things I do, about me that's attracted you
so if I started doing something else, what would we have left.
And you say you just want compromise, then act so different all the time.
These reasons why you said goodbye, just another way of telling lies.
Something's got to give, got to give pretty soon
or else we're gonna lose the very things that made it bloom
Sitting in silence in a cold and lonely room
while the world goes on around us
Something's got to give, got to give pretty soon
or else we're gonna hate each other
and that would be the saddest thing I ever seen.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Keyboard: David Barbe
Throw it on a camel's back, something's got to give pretty soon
Living hard to chase the dream, way beyond our ways and means
Yours don't mean a goddamn thing.
That's what you said, but, don't believe it.
That shattered look upon your face, something's got to give pretty soon.
Swallow, but can't stand the taste, bark at the wind, chase the moon
Living fast and drinking lots. List of things we haven't got.
Tired of life with the have-nots
That's what you said and I believe it.
Maybe what you need's for someone to send you flowers
Someone strong and mean who can prove he has the power to
show you more than charm and take you on your way
to where you want to be at the end of the day
and it breaks my heart in two to know it ain't meant to be
but, it ain't me. It ain't me.
And you say it's these things I do, about me that's attracted you
so if I started doing something else, what would we have left.
And you say you just want compromise, then act so different all the time.
These reasons why you said goodbye, just another way of telling lies.
Something's got to give, got to give pretty soon
or else we're gonna lose the very things that made it bloom
Sitting in silence in a cold and lonely room
while the world goes on around us
Something's got to give, got to give pretty soon
or else we're gonna hate each other
and that would be the saddest thing I ever seen.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Keyboard: David Barbe
YOUR DADDY HATES ME
I know your Daddy hates me and I got a room in hell reserved.
I know he wants to kill me and it's the least that I deserve
But I always loved your Daddy, that's something that I know you know.
Just sometimes don't do what I ought to, sometimes I yes when I should no.
I know your Daddy hates me and I drink more than a whale
but my failures ain't for lack of trying it's just a little too late now to prevail.
You always knew I was a screw up, long before I screwed us up.
You just said it endeared you to me, but in the end you just gave up
And I always loved your Daddy, I loved your Mama even more
And I always loved their daughter, that's for sure.
I know your Daddy hates me, I know I'd probably hate me too.
But, I also know you don't hate me, even though you'd probably like to and ought to.
And it's a little too late for writing love songs, but I never did anything on time.
Happiness on your big adventure.
See you Darling down the line.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Additional Guitar: David Barbe
CARELESS
Careful that you don't use up your ninth one, we all were careless once.
It can't be too much fun, just going round once, it all can slip away.
One banana peel away.
You left this big ole void, sure miss your sweet voice.
Now we're left holding on. We all were careless once.
We all were careless once.
June 1996, for Monster.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Soul Dump Music
It can't be too much fun, just going round once, it all can slip away.
One banana peel away.
You left this big ole void, sure miss your sweet voice.
Now we're left holding on. We all were careless once.
We all were careless once.
June 1996, for Monster.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Soul Dump Music
PIN HITS THE SHELL
You can lie to your Mama, you can lie to your race
but you can't lie to nobody with that cold steel in your face.
And the same God that you're so afraid is gonna send you to hell
is the same one you're gonna answer to when the pin hits the shell.
Your sister's been blaming everybody.
I don't blame her, man, I guess I'd blame them too
if you was my brother, man, I'd probably stand by you.
But you ain't, man, so I got to go my way.
And I ain't gonna crawl upon no high horse
Cause I got thrown off of one
when I was young and I ain't no cowboy
so I ain't going where I don't belong.
It wouldn't do you no good to let you know that it damned near killed me too
so I ain't gonna mourn for you, man, now that you're gone.
Me and you, we liked our pills and our whiskey.
But you don't want your head full of either one when
the house gets quiet and dark.
Having fun used to be so damned easy,
racing trains from 2nd Street to Avalon.
Take a trip down memory lane,
You don't see no friendly faces
all the houses have been painted and
nobody knows your name.
It's enough to make a man not want
to be nobody's Daddy,
when all he thinks he's got left to hand down is guilt and shame.
And I ain't gonna crawl upon no high horse........
You can lie to your Mama, you can lie to your race
but you can't lie to nobody with that cold steel in your face.
And the same God that you're so afraid is gonna send you to hell
is the same one you're gonna answer to when the pin hits the shell.
Lyrics by Mike Cooley / Music by Drive-By Truckers
(c) 2001 Wayward Johnson's Music (BMI)
Star Wars Wurlitzer Solo: Spooner Oldham
but you can't lie to nobody with that cold steel in your face.
And the same God that you're so afraid is gonna send you to hell
is the same one you're gonna answer to when the pin hits the shell.
Your sister's been blaming everybody.
I don't blame her, man, I guess I'd blame them too
if you was my brother, man, I'd probably stand by you.
But you ain't, man, so I got to go my way.
And I ain't gonna crawl upon no high horse
Cause I got thrown off of one
when I was young and I ain't no cowboy
so I ain't going where I don't belong.
It wouldn't do you no good to let you know that it damned near killed me too
so I ain't gonna mourn for you, man, now that you're gone.
Me and you, we liked our pills and our whiskey.
But you don't want your head full of either one when
the house gets quiet and dark.
Having fun used to be so damned easy,
racing trains from 2nd Street to Avalon.
Take a trip down memory lane,
You don't see no friendly faces
all the houses have been painted and
nobody knows your name.
It's enough to make a man not want
to be nobody's Daddy,
when all he thinks he's got left to hand down is guilt and shame.
And I ain't gonna crawl upon no high horse........
You can lie to your Mama, you can lie to your race
but you can't lie to nobody with that cold steel in your face.
And the same God that you're so afraid is gonna send you to hell
is the same one you're gonna answer to when the pin hits the shell.
Lyrics by Mike Cooley / Music by Drive-By Truckers
(c) 2001 Wayward Johnson's Music (BMI)
Star Wars Wurlitzer Solo: Spooner Oldham
DO IT YOURSELF
My Daddy called me on a Friday morning, so sad to tell me just what you'd done
You tried so hard to make us all hate you but in the end you was the only one
Sick, tired, pissed and wired, you never thought about anyone else.
You tried in vain to find something to kill you
in the end you had to do it yourself.
Who's to blame for the loveless marriage, who's to blame for the broken band.
You ran from life and all of it's pleasures, your own teeth marks on your own damned hand.
Thrown out before the date's expired, you'd rather die than let anyone help,
You'd rather die than take a stab at living.
Nothing would kill you so you do it yourself.
Everyone has those times when the night's so long
The dead-end life just drags you down
You lean back under the microphone
and turn your demons into walls of goddamned noise and sound.
And it's a sorry thing to do to your sweet sister
It's a sorry thing to do to your little boy
It's a sorry thing to do to the folks who love you
Your Mama and Daddy lost their only boy
Some should say I should cut you slack, but you worked so hard at unhappiness.
Living too hard just couldn't kill you
In the end you had to do it yourself.
Living too hard just couldn't kill you
In the end you had to do it yourself.
June 2002, Chase Park Transduction, Athens GA.
Recorded that evening.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Harmony: Bob Spires (Thanks: The Possibilities)
You tried so hard to make us all hate you but in the end you was the only one
Sick, tired, pissed and wired, you never thought about anyone else.
You tried in vain to find something to kill you
in the end you had to do it yourself.
Who's to blame for the loveless marriage, who's to blame for the broken band.
You ran from life and all of it's pleasures, your own teeth marks on your own damned hand.
Thrown out before the date's expired, you'd rather die than let anyone help,
You'd rather die than take a stab at living.
Nothing would kill you so you do it yourself.
Everyone has those times when the night's so long
The dead-end life just drags you down
You lean back under the microphone
and turn your demons into walls of goddamned noise and sound.
And it's a sorry thing to do to your sweet sister
It's a sorry thing to do to your little boy
It's a sorry thing to do to the folks who love you
Your Mama and Daddy lost their only boy
Some should say I should cut you slack, but you worked so hard at unhappiness.
Living too hard just couldn't kill you
In the end you had to do it yourself.
Living too hard just couldn't kill you
In the end you had to do it yourself.
June 2002, Chase Park Transduction, Athens GA.
Recorded that evening.
Lyrics by Patterson Hood / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Soul Dump Music (BMI)
Harmony: Bob Spires (Thanks: The Possibilities)
DECORATION DAY
It's Decoration Day.
And I've a mind to roll a stone on his grave.
But what would he say.
"Keeping me down, boy, won't keep me away."
It's Decoration Day.
And I knew the Hill Boys would put us away,
but my Daddy wasn't afraid.
He said "We'll fight till the last Lawson's last living day"
I never knew how it all got started
a problem with Holland before we were born
and I don't know the name of that boy we tied down
and beat till he just couldn't walk anymore.
But I know the caliber in Daddy's chest
and I know what Holland Hill drives.
The state let him go, but I guess it was best
cause nobody needs all us Lawsons alive.
Daddy said one of the boys had come by
the Lumber Man's favorite son.
He said, "Beat him real good but don't dare let him die
and if you see Holland Hill run.
Now I said, "they ain't give us trouble no more
that we ain't brought down on ourselves"
But a chain on my back and my ear to the floor
and I'll send all the Hill Boys to hell.
It's Decoration Day
and I've got a family in Mobile Bay
and they've never seen my Daddy's grave.
But that don't bother me, it ain't marked anyway.
Cause I got dead brothers in Lauderdale south
and I got dead brothers in east Tennessee.
My Daddy got shot right in front of his house
he had noone to fall on but me.
It's Decoration Day
and I've got a mind to go spit on his grave.
If I was a Hill, I'd have put him away
and I'd fight till the last Lawson's last living day.
I'd fight till the last Lawson's last living day.
I'd fight till the last Lawson's last living day.
Lyrics and Music by Jason Isbell
© 2002 House of Fame Music (BMI)
And I've a mind to roll a stone on his grave.
But what would he say.
"Keeping me down, boy, won't keep me away."
It's Decoration Day.
And I knew the Hill Boys would put us away,
but my Daddy wasn't afraid.
He said "We'll fight till the last Lawson's last living day"
I never knew how it all got started
a problem with Holland before we were born
and I don't know the name of that boy we tied down
and beat till he just couldn't walk anymore.
But I know the caliber in Daddy's chest
and I know what Holland Hill drives.
The state let him go, but I guess it was best
cause nobody needs all us Lawsons alive.
Daddy said one of the boys had come by
the Lumber Man's favorite son.
He said, "Beat him real good but don't dare let him die
and if you see Holland Hill run.
Now I said, "they ain't give us trouble no more
that we ain't brought down on ourselves"
But a chain on my back and my ear to the floor
and I'll send all the Hill Boys to hell.
It's Decoration Day
and I've got a family in Mobile Bay
and they've never seen my Daddy's grave.
But that don't bother me, it ain't marked anyway.
Cause I got dead brothers in Lauderdale south
and I got dead brothers in east Tennessee.
My Daddy got shot right in front of his house
he had noone to fall on but me.
It's Decoration Day
and I've got a mind to go spit on his grave.
If I was a Hill, I'd have put him away
and I'd fight till the last Lawson's last living day.
I'd fight till the last Lawson's last living day.
I'd fight till the last Lawson's last living day.
Lyrics and Music by Jason Isbell
© 2002 House of Fame Music (BMI)
LOADED GUN IN THE CLOSET
I got a loaded gun in the closet
and another one in the dresser drawer
just in case the one in the closet didn't make a big enough hole.
She had his breakfast ready every morning
and his lunch in a box sitting there by the kitchen door.
She'd make sure he had everything he needed
and hug his neck and tell him how much she loved him
and it was beautiful.
You should have seen it.
Then she'd make herself a pot of coffee,
just the way she liked it
and sit down and enjoy the quiet of the house all alone,
but, by two-o-clock or so every afternoon
the quiet would start getting to her and she'd watch
the clock until he came back home.
And she understood just what he needed
when he came home every evening
was a couple of beers and a couple of minutes
to cuss about his day.
So she'd fix him a nice hot supper
while he ranted and raved about one thing or the other.
And she never once told him what he was going on about
didn't add up to a thing.
And she never touched that gun in the closet.
It was his and it was there just because he wanted it to be.
She didn't get out much, so she never knew just what it was
that made him so afraid.
Most women today would say she was a disgrace.
Most men would say she wasn't much to look at.
And they all would say she'd be a lot better off
if she cared a little more about what they all think.
She could have a life of her own if she had a little pride,
some silicone implants, and another man on the side.
But she's got a loaded gun in the closet.
And it's there anytime she wants it.
And her one and only man knows it and
that's why he put it there in the first place.
Lyrics by Mike Cooley / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Wayward Johnson's Music (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff
and another one in the dresser drawer
just in case the one in the closet didn't make a big enough hole.
She had his breakfast ready every morning
and his lunch in a box sitting there by the kitchen door.
She'd make sure he had everything he needed
and hug his neck and tell him how much she loved him
and it was beautiful.
You should have seen it.
Then she'd make herself a pot of coffee,
just the way she liked it
and sit down and enjoy the quiet of the house all alone,
but, by two-o-clock or so every afternoon
the quiet would start getting to her and she'd watch
the clock until he came back home.
And she understood just what he needed
when he came home every evening
was a couple of beers and a couple of minutes
to cuss about his day.
So she'd fix him a nice hot supper
while he ranted and raved about one thing or the other.
And she never once told him what he was going on about
didn't add up to a thing.
And she never touched that gun in the closet.
It was his and it was there just because he wanted it to be.
She didn't get out much, so she never knew just what it was
that made him so afraid.
Most women today would say she was a disgrace.
Most men would say she wasn't much to look at.
And they all would say she'd be a lot better off
if she cared a little more about what they all think.
She could have a life of her own if she had a little pride,
some silicone implants, and another man on the side.
But she's got a loaded gun in the closet.
And it's there anytime she wants it.
And her one and only man knows it and
that's why he put it there in the first place.
Lyrics by Mike Cooley / Music by Drive-By Truckers
© 2003 Wayward Johnson's Music (BMI)
Pedal Steel: John Neff
COMMENTARY
Comments by Patterson Hood and Jason Isbell
1. The Deeper InPatterson: This song is about the only two people currently serving time in America for consensual brother/sister incest. It is one of the few songs I've written in the third person. Jason plays an electric mandolin through one of Barbe's old Ampeg Gemini amps. The song also marks the return of pedal steel player John Neff, who played on our first two albums and appears on nearly half of this one.
2. Sink Hole
Patterson: "The Accountant", a short film by Ray McKinnon, inspired this song.
The film is a very dark comedy about saving the family farm "by any means necessary".
This incredible movie went on to win the 2002 Academy Award for Best Feature Short.
We recorded Sink Hole live in one take our first day in the studio.
The song itself tells a different story and utilizes the geography of my family's old homestead in North Alabama. At the foot of the McGee Town hill lays an actual thirty-foot deep sinkhole. In the end, the protagonist feels morally justified as he fantasizes about burying the foreclosing banker there.
3. Hell No, I Ain't Happy
Patterson: This song was written on the road in January 2002 (although the title dates back to a year earlier). One night in Northern Florida, we passed a car driving the wrong way down I-10 At the time we were deep into the recording of "Southern Rock Opera", which dealt with dying on the road. This near brush with fate helped me to get past my phobia of getting creamed on the highway.
4. Marry Me
5. My Sweet Annette
Patterson: Two very different views of marital bliss.
With Marry Me, Cooley has written my favorite line on the album:
"Rock and Roll means well but it can't help tellin' young boys lies".
Both benefit from the great harmony vocal talents of our good friend Clay Leverett. Centro-Matic's piano player, Scott Danborn played fiddle on My Sweet Annette.
6. Outfit
Jason: This one focuses on the advice I got growing up, mostly from my father. We recorded the song just before Father's Day and I gave Dad a copy as a present.
I'm really fond of Cooley's psycho solo and Patterson's guitar harmonies toward the end.
7. Heathens
Patterson: This song and Sounds Better in the Song provide the center of gravity for this album.
Heathens was originally to be the title track and it's probably the strongest of the songs that I wrote for this record.
I particularly love the interplay between Cooley's almost Eddie Hinton-esque guitar part juxtaposed against my original chord progression.
Jason put down two tracks of E-Bow guitar, John Neff again plays pedal steel and Scott Danborn again plays fiddle.
"She ain't revved till the rods are thrown".
8. Sounds Better in the Song
"I might as well have put that ring on her finger
from the window of a van as it drove away" - Mike Cooley
9. (Something's Got to) Give Pretty Soon
10. Your Daddy Hates Me
Patterson: Two more songs about divorce and the emotional fallout that follows.
11. Careless
Patterson: This song was written in 1996, following the accidental death of a good friend
12. When the Pin Hits the Shell
13. Do It Yourself
Patterson: Mine and Cooley's somewhat different take on another friend's not-so accidental death.
When the Pin Hits the Shell features veteran keyboardist Spooner Oldham (Aretha Franklin, Neil Young, Bob Dylan) playing what he referred to as his "Star Wars Solo" on the Wurlitzer.
Both of these songs were first takes.
Do It Yourself features a guest appearance from Bob Spires of Athens GA's incomparable band, The Possibilities.
14. Decoration Day
Jason: This was the first song I wrote after joining the band, and it uses a fictional protagonist to tell a story that's rumored to be true. If a fight goes on long enough, it can be impossible to remember who started it.
I really love the coda. Barbe and the boys turned it into a tornado.
15. Loaded Gun in the Closet
Patterson: Cooley played this song for me a while back and it just had to be the last cut on the record. On an album about choices, it is noteworthy that the gun "stays" in the closet and everyone lives to carry on another day. Seconds after finishing this first take, my Gibson J-40 fell off the stand and broke in two.
Turn it up LOUD!
CREDITS
Coming Soon.