All songs copyright Larry Ytuarte
Uncle Joe's Road
They tell a story up north in Pickett County
Where highway 127 finds its way to Tennessee
They talk about a moonshine runnin' legend
A local boy that everyone knowed, racin' down Uncle Joe's Road
A clientele like the Who's Who clear to Memphis
A reputation for fairness, tact and reliability
But he never once forgot 'bout those around him
A friend in need wherever he goed, helpin' the folks down Uncle Joe's Road
West to Bumpus Mills, south to Chapel Hill
Down to Powells Crossroads, then over to Fayetteville
Never lost a load, never spilled a drop
Tearin' down those back roads like a storm that couldn't be stopped
The FBI sent their best man out to get him
J Edgar Hoover gave the orders, and he made them crystal clear
"Time's run out for that lowlife moonshine runner
Catch that boy while he's carryin' a load, catch him on Uncle Joe's Road"
The agent got a tip from someone local
"Get yourself down to Black Creek if you wanna catch that boy"
Staked himself out by the bridge and there he waited
Well what happened next ain't never been told, but that agent done
vanished down Uncle Joe's Road
Thirty-three saw the end of prohibition
And things changed for the people in the moonshine industry
But that boy had a good head on his shoulders
Figured he'd stay with what he already knowed, and opened a bar down
Uncle Joe's Road
Don't scratch your ear with your boots on
Don't scratch your ear with your boots on
Well Patty Sue told me so
But it was nothin' that I didn't already know
Don't scratch your ear
Don't scratch your ear with your boots on
Just a few words to the wise
But then the truth of it hit me right between the eyes
Don't scratch your ear
Nah nah...
Don't scratch your ear with your boots on
Some philosophically sound advice
Like a cross between Socrates and Barney Fife
Don't scratch your ear
Don't scratch your ear with your boots on
Remember that I heard it from Patty Sue
And if she said it then it's got to be, it must be true
Don't scratch your ear
Don't scratch your ear
Don't scratch your ear with your boots on
Nah nah...
Something That I Just Don't Get
Here in the city, I try my best to understand.
Out on those means streets, I hold on like a drowning man.
Cold, this place is so cold - I haven't seen a real smile yet.
Here in the city, there must be something that I just don't get.
Lost in this jungle, where courtesy ain't worth a dime.
Here in the city, it feels just like I'm doin' time.
Then when the night comes, I lay down in my bed alone.
Here in the city, I wait the day when I go home.
Don't let me fade from your picture. I will return you can be sure.
Here in the city, I try my best to understand.
Out on those means streets, I hold on like a drowning man.
Cold, this place is so cold - I haven't seen a real smile yet.
Here in the city, there must be something that I just don't get.
One Last Look Around
One last look around Have I missed anything? Anything lying 'round? Showing that I stopped here, something that might be found?
One last look around And then I'm on my way, out to those hills I know I'll be safe among them, for a day or so
And if this all goes just like we've planned We'll meet by the river, and we'll wait for the night Then we'll head for Juarez, if it all feels right
Then north to La Mesa, where we'll meet an old friend Get ourselves fresh horses, and start running again
One last look around And then I'm on my way, into that setting sun On my left my water, on my right my gun
One last look around I see a better day, better for you and me
A day when we don't look back, a day when we are free And if this all goes just like we've planned
We'll meet by the river, and we'll wait for the night Then we'll head for Juarez, if it all feels right
Then north to La Mesa, where we'll meet an old friend Get ourselves fresh horses, and start running again
Bound For Somewhere
Up with the rising sun, low soft and clear, a voice in my ear Told me this day was the one
Walked down to First and Main, crossing the tracks, without one look back I hopped on a slow moving train
Won't miss the cold cold rain, goodbye to the shacks, those factory stacks I'll never head that way again
I can't say I have a plan, but I do indeed, have all that I'll need
My heart, my hopes, my hands
This train's bound for somewhere, and somewhere is better than where I've been
They say every dog has its day, and sometimes the losers win
Out where the stars still shine, birds in the trees, a song on the breeze
Wherever these tracks have in mind
This train's bound for somewhere, and somewhere is better than where I've been
They say every dog has its day, and sometimes the losers win
The Four Horsemen
Rode out at dawn, into a rising sun, Jackson and Murdoch, Champion and Dunn
Four side by side, not a word as they ride, but they share hate in their hearts and fire in their eyes
Spent four long years in Fort Stockton prison A long time for four lawless men, a long time to think of revenge
And so they ride, like devils on the wind, out for the Marshall who brought them in
Clouds fill the sky, while they race side by side, and as the day moves along the four horsemen ride Whoa...
Rode into town, raising up a shout, calling for the Marshall, the Marshall walks out
His voice clear and strong, the Marshall says "don't take this wrong, but I'd just like to know, what took you boys so long?"
Hands go to guns, the shooting's begun And smoke fills the air in the street, it all happens too fast to see
But when it clears, the Marshall stands alone, holsters his weapon, heads back for home
There side by side, in the dirt where they lied, well people say that's the way the four horsemen died. Whoa...
Roses And Thorns
Got me a ride out on 385, just past the county line
A trucker named Jack, bound for Denver and back, hauling TV's and making good time
Told me 'bout Jane, 'bout the lies and the games, twelve years shot to hell Said our goodbyes with the sun in our eyes, I shook his hand and I wished him well
70 west then south to Cortez, picked up by a girl named Jean
Beauty and spunk and all she owned in her trunk, Hollywood bound with her hopes and her dreams
Made up her mind, left that small town behind, L.A. in a few more days
She dropped me off where 180 runs north, gave me a hug and we went our own ways
All of those dreams, all of those sad songs, roses and thorns, that's how it goes That's how it goes, another ride down the highway and that's how it goes
Leaving the lights of Las Vegas one night, got a ride from a guy named Gus
Bet every dime on four of a kind, lost it all to a sudden straight flush Lit up a smoke and told a few jokes, really didn't seem to mind
"You lose and you win," he said with a grin. "I lost today but I'll get 'em next time."
A fellow named Dan out to buy up some land, looking for that perfect place
A millionaire's wife plain bored with her life, a minister lost in a crisis of faith
And so it goes like the thorns on a rose, this highway doesn't have an end
The laughter and tears, all the hopes and the fears, over and over and over again
All of those dreams, all of those sad songs, roses and thorns, that's how it goes
That's how it goes, another ride down the highway and that's how it goes...
I Run No More
Here on this ridge, watching the pass below. Been here since
dawn, guns close at hand. I've heard it said that all things must finally end, so this is
where I make my stand.
I don't recall just how this all began. Running has blurred the why and the when.
Something went wrong, now I'm a wanted man. But time has come, this tale must end...oh...
Out of Cheyenne, clear down to Santa Fe. Word’s gotten 'round, the posse has grown.
Ten hell-bent men hoping to track me down. Here on this ridge, I stand alone.
Warmed by the sun, waiting for what will come. Dead or alive, sought by the law Life on
the run for so many yesterdays. As of today, I run no more.
As of today, I run no more.
Maybe San Antone
Maybe San Antone, maybe west to Yuma, maybe north to Cheyenne, maybe down to Monterrey
Maybe New Orleans, maybe Carson City, maybe out to the Badlands or south to Santa Fe
So here we stand, me and Old Dan, turn left or turn right Sometimes you just have to toss the dice
Maybe Cimarron, maybe Amarillo, maybe north to Durango when summer rolls around
Maybe play some cards, win a little money, maybe work till the fall on a ranch outside of town
But I try not to work very hard, and I'm happy to say I done real good so far
Still I don't want for nothing at all, I got the stars in the sky, and the coyotes still call
Well I hear what folks call me sometimes, a saddle tramp drifter who ain't worth a dime
But I think of myself like the breeze, I got places to go, and I go when I please
Maybe Abilene, maybe up to Jackson, maybe out to El Paso or east to Baton Rouge
Maybe Gila Bend, maybe north to Blackfoot, maybe down to La Mesa or out to Santa Cruz
So here we stand, me and Old Dan, turn left or turn right Sometimes you just have to toss the dice