Jonathan Foster - Help Me Run (Lyrics)
Copyright 2015 - Jonathan Foster Music - All Rights Reserved
Jonathan (Foster)
When I was a teen, I had reoccurring dreams
Held for ransom in Birmingham, in a building
Then on other nights, drowning in the Tennessee
While the Baptists were trying to save me
But the truth is like that old river’s song
Can be a bit muddy, and all I could think was…
Fifteen years later, North Houston Buffalo Bayou
The unthinkable, to a child I never knew
Guitar t-shirt with his heart beating
Just like a nightmare, only this one came true
The news channels clamored, the radicals raptured
While the people cried out, all I could think was…
All’s the same is our name
The only thing the same is our name
All’s the same is our name
The only thing we share
Is our name
Waiting for three days, for a possible runaway
Would seem like two lifetimes to me
There’s little difference between fame and infamy
Like an old western robber, poised for history
Tell them what happened, tell them why
Tell them to lift us up, tell them before you die
I’m not a monster, I’m not, she cried
I’m no monster either, but some people
Live to lie
Help Me Run (Foster)
I am a gentleman of the streets, I make my way everyday as I please
No more am I normal than a freak, I make my living by the skin of my teeth
I’m walking down highway 273, over the bridge to miracle mile city
And the PD think they’re looking for me, all I can do is jump off and be free
Too much time to think about my time
As I fall out of the sky
And I dreamed about how I cried
As a little boy, when I felt alive
Let that cold water run, help me run, help me run
Drugstore booze and nothing to eat, fishing for change until I sleep
There’s little to do and less I need, there is no reprieve on these streets
Posters say I ain’t worth a dime, but all the choices I have are just divine
And I’ve lived nine lifetimes here, that I won’t trade for my blood or my tears
We’re living in fairytale land, ignoring me the best they can
I’m one bad day from making it right, one step behind from chasing the light
It’s a breaking point in this town, off the bridge never to be found
A backbone that no one sees, it’s the backbone here, highway 273
River’s Name (Foster)
I can’t recall the stories, I didn’t write them down
About the river with the forgotten sound
If you close your eyes, you can see those days
And the endless nights, clearer than the water will ever be
Clearer than the water will ever be
By the bonfire glow, skinny girls sharing echoes
Of songs from yesterday, swimming under the moonlight
If you close your eyes, you can see those nights
When you looked at me, clearer than the water will ever be
Clearer than the water will ever be
Going down the hollow, that old muddy river mama
I’m heading to the mountains with my friends
Growing up can seem so far, and when it does
It’s forever, and you forget that
You forget that river’s name
I’m never content, it never seems to fail
Like the brandy colored water of the Windfall
If you close your eyes, you can see those days
With the cloudless skies, clearer than the water will ever be
Clearer than the water will ever be
Ride the Train (Foster)
Come together, leave apart
Our patience is tested right from the start
“Sorry boys” but we’re running late!
Punctuality is my middle name
Breakfast of champions, going for the kill
Like channeling a hunter, just for the thrill
Every car has its character, every car has its star
We’re all heading the same way, yet it seems so far
Buy the ticket, take the train…
Ride the rails north, look for greater things
Realize that we control more than you think
Set it up for failure baby, set it up for fame
You’ll never know until you try, until you
Ride the train
Watching the branches on the snowy hills
Sit back my friend, you better sit still
I feel a restlessness out on this train
Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em boys, you can’t afford to wait
Goodnight Rohan (Foster)
The sun has replaced the moon
The clouds have turned blue, and
What was snow now falls as rain
All of the flowers in bloom
The leaves on the trees turn green, and
Will eventually wave into red and orange
There will be pumpkins to pick
Bright bows to untie, and
Tomorrow we’ll dance at morning’s light
Goodnight Rohan, goodnight Rohan,
Goodnight Rohan, it’s time for bed, it’s time for bed
You’ll go to play and you’ll swim
Maybe your dogs will come too, and
When you’re done eating and cleaning, its story time
Your parents, greats and grands
As your aunts, uncles and cousins love you, and
All the friends you haven’t met yet, they’re going to bed too
Think of the sun and the moon
All the animals asleep too, and
Have sweet dreams in your head
Two Wheels (Foster)
Teach us to smile ‘til it hurts; sing out loud to the curse
And love harder than you’ll ever receive
When the dominoes fall; don’t say farewell at all
Just leave us with a little more hope
When I search for the light; hold my hand tight
We’ll remember your eyes, honest and true
Tell the stories he told; and smile ‘til we’re old
Now we toast to the man, to our friend
He loved the road and the stories it told
With the two wheels, in his soul
I thought, he loved life, a little more…
Never time on two wheels to love more
So many years with friends; that we once had
May not be the friends that we know now
But some will stay for good; from the time we meet
Until the day, that we say goodbye
To the ones I hold near; and dear to my heart
May you always be, the same to me
We’ll raise our glass once more; to times like these
May we never see, this circumstance
Susan (Foster)
It’s that time of night, the time when I go
The mornings come quicker than you’ll ever know
As I wipe my face dry and step on gas
It’s high time Susan, I start driving fast
Well it’s high time Susan, it’s that time of year
Driving alone with love, loss and fear
I am only one man, try to give you the most
But it’s high time Susan, I wish you good luck
It’s 100 degrees, while there’s fog on the coast
The smell of old bay has me the thinking the most
There’s one thing I know, one thing that is true
That it’s high time Susan I send love to you
Well it’s high time Susan that I’m coming home
This life I’ve outgrown is nothing I own
But in a month I’ll get lonely and itch for the road
And it’s high time Susan I’m leaving once more
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa, oh
Well here I am Susan, the sound of last call
I don’t have much money and I’m all out of songs
There’s one thing that’s certain, one thing I know
That it’s high time Susan, that I hit the road
It’s early in the morning, I should get to bed
This roaming and rambling leaves thoughts in my head
I don’t know what I did, to make you upset
But it’s high time Susan that I get to bed
Oh, whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa, oh
Black Canyon (Foster)
I’d still write you a letter if I knew where you are
It’s 4am in Omaha and I can’t find my car
This may be the best thing I’ve ever made
Played an old mixtape that you saved
The shot’s out of focus, we’re just killing time
Photographic memory that’s growing in my mind
I’ll go out back for a second hand smoke
Trade third rate ideas to save first world folk
But all I hear are jokes that I won’t remember
And the rules of seventy will last me forever
There’s only two things that I need to sustain
Attached to a cell to make blood rush to my brain
Take it to the country, take it to the hills
Take it to the ocean to cure your ills
Spend the night thinking that I'm not too old
But wise enough to know not to let it all go
Bridges already burnt before they are built
It’s all in your head, you made up the guilt
Hit the canyons for solitude and meaning
I’m 5000 miles deep and my mind is spinning
Down in the canyon and my mind is spinning
Hold on for dear life, it’s just the beginning
Live to Create (Foster)
Three brothers drive an endless field
Gun shy dogs who just won’t heel
Blaze orange and old rubber boots
Just a nip of bourbon to keep on the move
Many years past since the world’s big fight
The depression’s gone, but still in sight
Purple pins, drawings, and a broken heart
War to art, a rich life from the start
Memories of the generation great
Get along fine with no talk for religious sake
And politics too, they’re for the birds
Like a pheasant hid in the dense burrs
I never know what to say
I’ll never forget those days
Ponds, parades, the submarine race
Now I live to create, everyday
Pipe tobacco smoke standing out
You knew when I’d been to his house
No longer can fish, hunt, or even write
But the scanner’s still on just like a dog’s bite
The hardest part that I’ll recall
Said he’s a walking stick of dynamite
Can't throw it, can’t take it away
Living with uncertainty each and every day
Rockabilly Roller (Randall / Foster)
There’s a red-haired woman, I can’t remember her name
A Rockabilly lady with a tattooed cross and flame
Got a pistol in the glove box of her old Chevy dart
Broken seam in her stocking, Bukowski in her heart
Got a mama in Poughkeepsie she don’t talk about
Faux fur coat and guilty pleasures for roustabouts
Got the ’68 comeback on her Magnavox
Bettie Page eyes, sings like a Patsy Cline fox
I’m in love with a rockabilly woman with a roller derby heart
They say honkey-tonk loving’s great from the start
She is my mistress in the dark
Yeah, I’m in love with a rockabilly woman with a roller derby heart
Pinups lying between the sheets
Fishnets and SoCo, it’s so meant to be
Making short work out of me!
Got a dog named Cash and shiny skull ring
Pink flask of whiskey and a kiss that stings
Believes Elvis is still the king, and
Holds my world in her hands making me believe, oh I believe that…
American Highway (Foster)
Driving on the interstate, strangers decide your fate, too distracted to be safe
Saw a lone buffalo just like twelve years ago and the band didn't show so you’re on your own
Chevrolet tattoo, what the hell is she gonna do, I’m only 1000 miles from home
Abandoned rail road tracks, small towns sagging down, 16 years, no flooded fields
Breathe it all in, we may never do this again, from here to New Year’s Eve
Mr. Whiskers only wanted a whiskey for cripes sake, I guess tonight we play for free
Off a well gin bender, I’m the wagon tender, on the American highway
Rivers, trains and names, all heading down the same American highway
Drive nice, drive free, smiling back at me, the American highway
On the American highway
Brick roads, broken hearts, dead trees long forgot, float down the river of America’s soul
Driving all night, keep it between the lines, across Kansas, just to make up time
The loneliest highway, 50 hot nights, still no whiskey, but the radio’s singing my songs
Tequila blues Chip, $2.50 high ball of the Hip, and Hank’s teary beer
Margarita Jimmy, bloody mary Willie, and Gillian’s whiskey girl
Hayes’ wild turkey, Zevon’s Perca-gin, and George’s white lightning
Oh, I can see the lightning
Mixing the Medicine (Foster / Gillette)
Might have been, should have been, could have been gone
Learning to heal until we all fall down
Caravanning slowly while the wheels turn round
Mixing up the medicine, drink it all down
It’s a long hard road, but it’s paved with gold and it’ll be no match for this old soul
Burning matches off the mountain, watch ‘em go down
What might have been, should have been, could have been gone
Matches off the mountain, wash them all down
Learning to heal until the leaves turn brown
It’s a long hard road, but it’s paved with gold and it’ll be no match for this old soul
What’s in the punch bowl, it’s too hard to see
Find them and forget ‘em, let them all be
‘cause life’s a rubber hammer, just with a small fee
What might have been, should have been, could have been me
It’s a long hard road, but it’s paved with gold and it’ll be no match for this old soul
Mixing up the medicine baby, drink it all down
Might have been, should have been, could have been gone
Put your eggs in one basket and go call her up
But the devil’s busy wearing those golden handcuffs
Mixing up your medicine until you feel ill
Go and sell your soul for a box full of bills
It’s a long hard road, but it’s paved with gold and it’ll be no match for this old soul
Mixing up your medicine baby, drink it all down
Might have been should have been, could have been gone
The Rope (Foster)
Caught outside Whiskeytown
Looking down a hole
Gallows of old Shasta
Praying the rope will break
Skills are not required
Emancipate your fire
It all comes down to this
Praying the rope will break
Land of the free and unforgiven
Home of the brave and beaten
Nooses around too many necks
Praying the rope will break
All songs Copyright 2015 Jonathan Foster