Song(s) Of The Day


#261

one of his better underrated songs imo


#262

#263

#264

The Rangers had a homecoming
In Harlem late last night
And the Magic Rat drove his sleek machine
Over the Jersey state line
Barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a Dodge
Drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain
The Rat pulls into town, rolls up his pants
Together they take a stab at romance
And disappear down Flamingo Lane
Well, the Maximum Lawmen run down Flamingo
Chasing the Rat and the barefoot girl
And the kids 'round there live just like shadows
Always quiet, holding hands
From the churches to the jails
Tonight all is silence in the world
As we take our stand
Down in Jungleland
The midnight gang’s assembled
And picked a rendezvous for the night
They’ll meet 'neath that giant Exxon sign
That brings this fair city light
Man, there’s an opera out on the Turnpike
There’s a ballet being fought out in the alley
Until the local cops, Cherry-Tops, rips this holy night
The street’s alive as secret debts are paid
Contacts made, they flash unseen
Kids flash guitars just like switchblades
Hustling for the record machine
The hungry and the hunted
Explode into rock ‘n’ roll bands
That face off against each other out in the street
Down in Jungleland
In the parking lot the visionaries dress in the latest rage
Inside the backstreet girls are dancing
To the records that the DJ plays
Lonely-hearted lovers struggle in dark corners
Desperate as the night moves on
Just one look and a whisper, and they’re gone
Beneath the city, two hearts beat
Soul engines running through a night so tender
In a bedroom locked in whispers
Of soft refusal and then surrender
In the tunnels uptown, the Rat’s own dream guns him down
As shots echo down them hallways in the night
No one watches when the ambulance pulls away
Or as the girl shuts out the bedroom light
Outside the street’s on fire in a real death waltz
Between what’s flesh and what’s fantasy
And the poets down here don’t write nothing at all
They just stand back and let it all be
And in the quick of a knife, they reach for their moment
And try to make an honest stand
But they wind up wounded, not even dead
Tonight in Jungleland


#265

#266

#267

Pictures of the farm before us
Old men in a gospel chorus
Sepia and saddle horses
Easy on the reins

Eighty-one, a motor inn, your momma’s 17 again
She’s squinting at the dusty wind
The anger of the plains

You and I were almost nothing
Pray to God the Gods were bluffing
Seventeen ain’t old enough to reason with the pain
How could we expect the two to stay in love
When neither knew the meaning of
The difference between sacred and profane?

I was riding on my mother’s hip
She was shorter than the corn
All the years I took from her
Just by being born

I didn’t mean to break the cycle
At 17, I went by Michael
No one ever called me by my own name anyway
Five full generations living
All these expectations giving way to one
Late to have a baby on the way

You were riding on your mother’s hip
She was shorter than the corn
All the years you took from her
Just by being born


#268

^^^ Children of Children really is one of the best songs Isbell ever wrote.
The words, combined with the guitar at the end of the song really make this one of my favorite songs of his.

I’m working on a mix of Isbell favorites. and another mix of live favorites.
I’ll put in the dropbox when they’re complete. even though you’ve heard all the songs, sometimes hearing them next to another excellent song from a different album makes them stand out in a different way. to me it does anyway…


#269

If you don’t put Elephant on there you are a monster.


#270

Of course it’s on there. :elephant:


#271

#272

One of my all time favorites


#273

Mine too.


#274

mine three


#275

#276

#277

#278

#279

Wowww


#280