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lyrics

The folder with foreclosure papers, leaned on my front door
Marked “X” beside the line,
where I should sign them
A car pulled from the driveway,
as his right foot pressed the floor
In the fields beyond, the seeds were simply dying
I pulled aside the curtain,
where I’d hidden just before
From the sheriff, and the doorbell, and his knocking
Standing in my childhood place,
where all the kids were born
Through the window,
the light outside was darkening
My grandfather’s father’s farm
has fallen down to me
He was a man of different times and possibilities
Now drought and debt conspire
against the family legacy
They’re trying to sweep me up, and out of Kansas
I see my father’s picture there,
as he looked before the war
My eyes are wet, the images are blurring
My boy he’s got those dimples too,
just like his grandpa wore
Through the window, the trees outside are stirring
It’s not like bad times, never happened here before
The Dust Bowl, is blowing through my blood line
But the bank account is empty now,
and there ain’t nothing more
I pray for hope, and then some kind of sign
My grandfather’s father’s farm has
fallen down to me
He was a man of different times and possibilities
Now drought and debt conspire against the
family legacy
They’re trying to sweep me up, and out of Kansas
We wish for love. . . We wish for family. . .
Wish on the stars above. . . to let us be. . .
Just let us be. . .
It’s an evening without shadows,
and somehow nature knows
There’s a tension in the sky in the beginning
A cold wind from up north sideswipes a
warm one from below
It twists and curls the air, and sets it spinning
A haunting dance of dust devils,
they circle to and fro
Some disappear like ghostly apparitions
Whirlpools coalesce above and violently let go
To kiss the ground in frantic demolition
From Canada, to Mexico, and the alleys in between
Tornados of different drafts and their conspiracies
My family farm is blown away;
I’m a memory on the breeze
They finally sweep me up, and out of Kansas
Bless Mexico and Canada, and the alleys in between
Tornados of different drafts and their conspiracies
The family farm is in the wind,
floating on the breeze
They’ve finally swept us up and out of Kansas
Yeah, they’ve finally swept us up and out of Kansas

credits

from Earthly Pursuits, released April 1, 2015
©2012 James W Johnson (ASCAP)
Jim Johnson: Guitar, Lead Vocals
Jim Clark: Irish Bouzouki, Vocals
Steve Coffee: Mandolin, Vocals

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Harley String Band Fairfax, Virginia

The Harley String Band is a trio of bold singer-songwriters who just happen to favor banjo, mandolin, and bouzouki in support of their adventurous songscapes. Jim, Jim, and Steve are old enough to remember when folk music was considered important and relevant, and they work to meet that expectation. ... more

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