{"id":40,"date":"2011-09-09T15:45:06","date_gmt":"2011-09-09T15:45:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/site\/?page_id=40"},"modified":"2019-10-13T09:42:36","modified_gmt":"2019-10-13T13:42:36","slug":"album-get-a-witness","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/?page_id=40","title":{"rendered":"Album: Get a Witness"},"content":{"rendered":"

Preview and Download tracks or the entire album at<\/strong>:\u00a0Bandcamp<\/a><\/p>\n

\"\"1. Junior 3:51 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n2. Beyond This Wall 7:33 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n3. Get a Witness 4:54 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n4. Summer Lighting 8:06 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n5. Empty Glass 8:16 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n6. Good and Faithful Servant 4:19 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n7. Bittersweet 6:28 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n8. Blood Brothers 4:57 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n9. David’s Solo 2:15
\n10. Night Drive 11:40 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n11. Northwest Passage 11:37 (lyrics<\/a>)
\n12. The Bay Boy 3:18<\/p>\n


\n
\n;
\n\"\"<\/form>\n

\u00a92007 Red House Records<\/p>\n

“Kudos to Garnet Rogers for both the thought behind this release – the picking, choosing and connection of the songs — and the music in its totality. Plus, a tip of the hat for the iconoclasm displayed by the length of a number of the cuts here: 7:25 for “Beyond This Wall,” “Summer Lighting” coming in at 8:04, with “Empty Glass close behind at 8:10. “Night Drive” runs 11:10. Any discussion of anti-corporate music requires the inclusion of Garnet Rogers.”<\/em><\/p>\n

– Kevin McCarthy – Valerie Enterprises<\/p>\n

“On a long awaited concert album, even his torch songs feel like tours de force, sung in a glorious bass that shimmers with danger and grace..”<\/em><\/p>\n

– Boston Globe Top Ten Folk CDs of 2007<\/p>\n

\n

<\/a>
\nJUNIOR<\/strong>
\nIt’s Howdy Doody Time<\/p>\n

Born on second base
\nYou thought you’d hit a double
\nDaddy and his rich friends
\nBailed you out of trouble
\nI watch you as you work the crowd
\nYour eyes too bright, your voice too loud
\nAh Junior, you’re doing your daddy proud<\/p>\n

It’s hard to do your job
\nWhen you’re always on vacation
\nThey’re pulling your strings
\nFrom an undisclosed location
\nYou’re kicking ass and taking names
\nYou’re filling up the jails
\nYou’re tapping our phones
\nYou’re opening my mail
\nBut God’s on your side, Junior
\nHow can you fail?<\/p>\n

Another rich man’s war, another poor man’s fight
\nKeep the flag draped coffins
\nHidden from sight
\nIn Washington there’s 50,000 names on the wall
\nYou can’t name one of them
\nYou were drunk and AWOL
\nAnd we’re supposed to come when you call<\/p>\n

So you were born on second base
\nOr maybe it was third
\nYou’re wrapped in the Flag
\nYou mouth holy words
\nBut are you getting nervous Junior?
\nYour numbers are hurtin’
\nEven your best friends are looking uncertain
\nPay no attention to the man behind the curtain
\nYeah I’m sick of your lies
\nI’m sick of the games
\nAll of your friends
\nThey all sound the same
\nWell, have your phony war
\nBut not in my name
\nYou don’t speak for me.<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nBEYOND THIS WALL<\/strong><\/p>\n

Close your eyes, put down your gun,
\nRest yourself, try to catch your breath<\/p>\n

Beyond this wall
\nBelow that hill, behind that house
\nLies a dusty death
\nYou learn real fast if you’re halfway smart
\nTo keep your head down, bide your time.
\nI’ve seen too many eager kids like you
\nCatch a bullet, we send them down the line.<\/p>\n

That one there, he’s just a kid
\nMaybe 14, but don’t you be fooled
\nHis father’s fathers for 200 years learned to fight in a harsher school
\nThey whipped the British and the Russians too, from the Khyber Pass to Khye-Kheen hills
\nMy guess is a 100 years from now, they’ll be whipping someone still.<\/p>\n

We picked one up, looked a lot like him, on a night patrol in Khandahar
\nI tried to grab his shoulder
\nBut he slipped away and turned to run, but not that far
\nThere was shouting, firing, the night split open in the flash of the I.E.D
\nOne swift moment, it was over
\nI looked around, we’d lost three.<\/p>\n

Just look around you, no rich kids here
\nMostly middle class and working poor
\nSons and daughters sweating out another dirty little war
\nDust and sweat, the end of hope, crippling fear, sudden pain
\nDreams and faith flushed like blood, flushed like blood down a filthy drain.<\/p>\n

My son turned one two days ago
\nI haven’t held him yet
\nMy wife emails me pictures, holds him to the phone
\nYou take what you can get.
\nChristmas and birthdays come and go, from day to dusty day
\nWe listen to each other breathing on the phone and lie that everything’s ok.<\/p>\n

Well, I miss my family, I miss my wife
\nI miss the kid I’ve never known
\nIf by some small chance I’m spared my life
\nI swear I’ll never leave my home.<\/p>\n

Why we’re here
\nWhat’s the bigger picture
\nWhy we’re fighting, well it’s not for me to say
\nI’ll keep my head down
\nAnd with God’s grace
\nI’ll fight to live, fight to live
\nAnother day.<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nGET A WITNESS<\/strong><\/p>\n

Three long months
\nAh Lord it’s been that dry
\nSun burning down from a cauldron sky
\nI woke up this morning
\nClouds piled up above
\nBlessed rain
\nAh it poured down like love<\/p>\n

Can I get a witness
\nFor this perfect day<\/p>\n

Swallows chase their reflections
\nAbove the pond
\nCool green shadows
\nSweep across the lawn
\nNothing calls me
\nI’ve got no place to go
\nAh just the birds like graceful angels
\nFlickering to and fro<\/p>\n

Outside our door the world it moves too fast
\nTakes my breath away at how the years have passed
\nWe’ll let the world go, love, do what it will
\nLook into my eyes make my heart stand still<\/p>\n

Cool sweet evening
\nFalls upon the fields
\nBattered old moon
\nHangs like a broken shield
\nThe birds have flown
\nOut behind the sun
\nLord, maybe somewhere, somehow
\nToday the good guys won.<\/p>\n

Can I get a witness<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nSUMMER LIGHTNING<\/strong>
\nLivingston, Montana<\/em><\/p>\n

I was driving west
\nThrough the Bighorn Mountains
\nThe hills were heavy with newfallen snow
\nThe sun-bright hills were dappled like a pony
\nI was driving hard, I had miles to go<\/p>\n

And a magpie flew across the mountain highway
\nIt flashed and tumbled through the golden trees
\nAnd I thought of you
\nMy heart was lifted
\nAnd floated with that magpie
\nOn the morning breeze<\/p>\n

For where I go
\nYou go with me
\nThough the miles keep us apart
\nYour kiss is on my lips
\nYour face before me
\nYour gentle hand
\nAlways on my heart<\/p>\n

We are brief as summer lightning
\nWe are swift as swallows’ flight
\nWe are sparks that spiral upward
\nIn the darkness in the night
\nWe are frost upon a window
\nWe won’t pass this way again
\nIn the end, only love remains<\/p>\n

Tonight the harvest moon
\nHangs across the valley
\nI see the hills shine in its silver light
\nIt’s the same old moon that shines upon you
\nIt’ll light my way until I’m by your side<\/p>\n

Well who scattered these diamonds through the vault of heaven
\nWho drew the curve of the magpie’s wing?
\nWho shaped your face?
\nWhat made you love me?
\nWhere is the spark of every living thing?<\/p>\n

I don’t know
\nI don’t care either
\nI know you love me
\nHow could I not see?
\nAnd I am yours
\nNow and forever
\nTill my lips fall silent
\nAnd my eyes can’t see<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nEMPTY GLASS<\/strong><\/p>\n

Takes two days to cross Nebraska
\nGive or take a year
\nA lifetime’s worth of cigarettes twice that many beers<\/p>\n

He’s driving east
\nHis tail between his legs
\nHe’s lost the highway itch
\nHis wanderlust died years ago
\nHe left it rotting in a ditch<\/p>\n

Rain clouds in the rearview
\nRadio playing low
\nTwo million miles behind him
\nA million miles to go<\/p>\n

There’s no Hank or Merle or Johnny now
\nYou can’t hear them anymore
\nJust redneck clowns with stupid hats
\nAnd young girls dressed as whores<\/p>\n

And they grind them out like sausages
\nThey all sound much the same
\nThere’s no room for him on the radio
\nHe never learned to play the game
\nHe pulled over towards evening
\nIn a quiet Midwest town
\nJust a motel and a watertower
\nCornfields all around<\/p>\n

A fat man with blue marine tattoos
\nShowed him to his room
\nHe put his guitar and his satchel down
\nSat there in the gloom<\/p>\n

And a dog barked down the street
\nHe saw fresh laundry on a line
\nNext door a couple was making love
\nSomewhere a baby was crying<\/p>\n

Another drink would go good now
\nOne drink and then one more
\nMaybe, one more just for luck
\nNo one’s keeping score<\/p>\n

He lay back in the darkness
\nOn the narrow motel bed
\nHe closed his eyes and heard the music still
\nPlaying in his head
\nAnd a moth beat on the window screen
\nHis breath grew soft and slow
\nHe dreamt about a time and place
\nSo many years ago<\/p>\n

Cool mornings under cloudless skies
\nBarefoot on the grass
\nLooking at the world with hungry eyes
\nNose pressed against the glass<\/p>\n

In the cornfields around the town
\nA million fireflies rose
\nDancing winking in the dark
\nAs the day drew to a close<\/p>\n

And so in clouds their numbers grew
\nAnd their ghostly light grew too
\nAs through the dark and empty streets
\nTowards his room they flew
\nThey flew in through his open door
\nAbove the bed where still he lay
\nThey gently lifted him aloft
\nAnd carried him away<\/p>\n

And they floated him above the church
\nAnd the roofs of the little town
\nThey carried him out into the dark
\nAnd gently set him down<\/p>\n

And bit by bit and by and by
\nAs the fireflies shone their light
\nThe old singer disappeared
\nInto the breathing night<\/p>\n

The motel maid tapped on the door
\nNext morning with her key
\nShe swung it wide, looked inside
\nAll that she could see<\/p>\n

Was a guitar and empty glass
\nA satchel on the bed
\nAnd the imprint on the pillow
\nWhere he had laid his head<\/p>\n

The wind blows warm from Kansas
\nThorough empty silent hills
\nSeasons come seasons go
\nAs seasons always will<\/p>\n

Somewhere where the waves of grass
\nStretch on out of sight
\nHis songs are on the prairie wind
\nFaintly in the night<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nGOOD AND FAITHFUL SERVANT <\/strong>
\nFor Coretta Scott King<\/em><\/p>\n

Chorus
\nRest now good and faithful servant
\nRest now your race is won
\nRest now good and faithful servant
\nOn to Glory now your work is done<\/p>\n

Freedom’s won slowly
\nInch by inch
\nYou looked hate in the eye
\nYou did not flinch
\nYou bent your back you shouldered the load
\nWeary miles down a long, dark road<\/p>\n

The load was heavy
\nYou took the weight
\nWhere’d you find the courage to face the hate?
\nHand of iron in a velvet glove
\nYou tore down the walls
\nWith the power of your love<\/p>\n

Rest now good and faithful servant
\nFree at last from the fear and lies
\nRest now good and faithful servant
\nThey thought they stopped you in Memphis
\nYou would not let the
\nDream die<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nBITTERSWEET <\/strong>
\nKaren Savoca<\/em><\/p>\n

He threw his pipes over the edge
\nSighed and felt no worse
\nHe never could make up his mind
\nWere they a blessing or a curse?<\/p>\n

He just drank down his second pint
\nWhen a voice behind him cried
\n‘see here, I’ve found your blessed pipes, down by the waterside”<\/p>\n

Isn’t life just like the autumn air
\nIt’s bitter and it’s sweet
\nI will never understand it all
\nBut that’s alright with me<\/p>\n

She tells herself she’ll be ok
\nThis feeling’s gonna pass
\nShe pours herself another drink
\nAnd stares into the glass
\nHer heart is like a swelling moon
\nThat’s sinking in the sky
\nShe says “if I don’t tell somebody soon, I swear I’m gonna cry.”<\/p>\n

He walks among the silent rooms
\nAnd always sees her face
\nHe slips into a chilly bed with another in her place
\nHe waits for dreams to take him back
\nTo a boat out on a lake
\nWhere everything is as it was
\nBefore his big mistake<\/p>\n

Chorus<\/p>\n

Isn’t life just like the autumn air
\nIt’s bitter and it’s sweet
\nI will never understand it all
\nBut that’s alright with me
\n’cause I came down from the mountains
\nI crawled up from the sea
\nI will never understand it all
\nBut that’s alright with me<\/p>\n

I love Karen and Pete’s music. I never get to see or hear them enough anymore<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nBLOOD BROTHERS<\/strong>
\nBruce Springsteen<\/em><\/p>\n

We played King of the Mountain
\nOut on the end
\nThe world came charging up our hill
\nWe were women we were men
\nNow there’s so much that time
\nTime and memory fade away
\nWe’ve our own roads to ride
\nPromises to make
\nBut we stood side by side
\nEach one fighting for the other
\nWe swore until we died
\nWe’d always be blood brothers<\/p>\n

Now the hardness of this world
\nSlowly grinds your dreams away
\nMakes a fool’s joke of the promises we made
\nWhat seems black and white
\nSlowly turns to shades of grey
\nWe lose ourselves in work to do
\nWork to do, bills to pay
\nAnd it’s a hard hard ride
\nThere ain’t much cover
\nWith no one running by your side
\nMy blood brother<\/p>\n

Through the houses of the Dead
\nPast those fallen in their tracks
\nAlways moving up ahead
\nNever looking back<\/p>\n

Now I don’t know how I feel
\nI don’t know how I feel tonight
\nIf I’ve been crushed beneath the wheel
\nIf I’ve lost or I’ve gained sight
\nI guess I don’t know why I make this call
\nOr if any of this matters
\nIf it matters after all<\/p>\n

Still the stars are shining bright
\nLike a mystery uncovered
\nI’ll keep moving through this dark, I’ll keep you in my heart
\nMy blood brother<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nNIGHT DRIVE <\/strong><\/p>\n

How bright the stars
\nHow dark the night
\nHow long have I been sleeping?
\nSleep overtook me on my western flight
\nHeld me in its keeping
\nI had a dream
\nIt seemed so real
\nIts passing left me shaking
\nI saw you here behind the wheel
\nOn this very road I’m taking<\/p>\n

Hurtling westward through the prairie night
\nUnder the spell of motion
\nYour eyes were keen and bright in the dashboard light
\nDreaming of the western ocean
\nDusty towns left far behind
\nMountains drawing ever nearer
\nYour face was then as it was tonight
\nEver young, ever dearer<\/p>\n

I know this road and its every curve
\nWhere the hills commence their climbing
\nWe rested here if my memory serves
\nThe western lights were shining
\nYou lit a smoke, we shared some wine
\nWe watched the sky in wonder
\nYour laughter echoes after all this time
\nIn that high and wild blue yonder<\/p>\n

I don’t know why I write these lines
\nIt’s not like I could send you the letter
\nIt’s that I love you more
\nAfter all this time
\nIt’s that I wished I’d showed you better
\nYears have slipped beneath my wheels
\nDwindling in my rear view mirror
\nAs time has passed your life has grown less real
\nBut these night drives
\nBring you nearer<\/p>\n

So tonight I’ll wish upon these stars
\nAs they rise upwards to guide me
\nThat I’ll see you here
\nJust as you are
\nNow as then, beside me
\nIt scares me how the years have flown
\nLike the leaves drift in September
\nThey’ve lost sight of you as your legend’s grown
\nBut this road and I
\nWe remember<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nNORTHWEST PASSAGE<\/strong>
\nStan Rogers<\/em><\/p>\n

Westward from the Davis Strait
\nT’was there t’was said to lie
\nThe sea route to the Orient
\nFor which so many died
\nSeeking gold and glory
\nLeaving weathered broken bones
\nAnd a long forgotten lonely cairn of stones<\/p>\n

Chorus
\nAh for just one time
\nI would take a Northwest Passage
\nTo find the hand of Franklin
\nReaching for the Beaufort Sea
\nTracing one warm line
\nThrough a land so wide and savage
\nAnd make a Northwest Passage to the sea<\/p>\n

Three centuries thereafter
\nI take passage overland
\nIn the footsteps of brave Kelso
\nWhere his sea of flowers began
\nWatching cities rise before me
\nAnd behind me sink again
\nThis tardiest explorer
\nDriving hard across the plain<\/p>\n

And through the night
\nBehind the wheel
\nThe mileage clicking west
\nI think upon Mackenzie, David Thompson and the rest
\nWho cracked the mountain ramparts and so showed a path for me
\nTo race the roaring Fraser to the sea<\/p>\n

How then am I so different
\nFrom the first ones through this way?
\nLike them I left a settled life,
\nI threw it all away
\nTo seek a Northwest Passage
\nAt the call of many men
\nTo find there but the road back home again.<\/p>\n

back to top<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Preview and Download tracks or the entire album at:\u00a0Bandcamp 1. Junior 3:51 (lyrics) 2. Beyond This Wall 7:33 (lyrics) 3. Get a Witness 4:54 (lyrics) 4. Summer Lighting 8:06 (lyrics) 5. Empty Glass 8:16 (lyrics) 6. Good and Faithful Servant 4:19 (lyrics) 7. Bittersweet 6:28 (lyrics) 8. Blood Brothers 4:57 (lyrics) 9. David’s Solo 2:15 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"parent":6,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-40","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/P7qHGF-E","jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/40","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=40"}],"version-history":[{"count":38,"href":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/40\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":27630,"href":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/40\/revisions\/27630"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/garnetrogers.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=40"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}