Bhi Bhiman: guitars, vocals
Ben Tudor: double-bass
Gabe Turow: cajon, percussion
Sam Kassirer: piano, organ, vibraphone

I jumped the first train I saw, it’ll surely take me home
If I had a mama, at least I’d have a place to go
I’m just a guttersnipe, I got no place to wipe my nose
I jumped the first train I saw, it’ll surely take me home

A buzzard riding the rails
I steal my meals when all else fails
I’m right at home on the line
I’m well on my way to feeling fine

I’ve been to Juarez, I been to Houston, Baton Rouge
I got some good friends, some folks to really help me through
I’ve been all over, I spend my time just like I do
I stay out of trouble, but its got a way of finding you

A buzzard riding the rails
I steal my meals when all else fails
I’m right at home on the line
I’m well on my way to feeling fine

I’m a railroad urchin
Searching for peace of mind
I’m in need of some churchin’
And out here all I have is time

I can’t get my money right, I can’t even put my two cents in
I pray the lawmen, I hope they wont catch me again
I’m just a vagabond, I live to see the light of dawn
The train beats a rhythm, and I love to sing along

A buzzard riding the rails
I steal my meals when all else fails
I never heeded the signs
But I’m well on my way to feeling fine

Bhi Bhiman: guitars, bass, drums, vocals, percussion
Sam Kassirer: piano, vibraphone, percussion

I took my lovey-dove, and I thought to myself
That there must be some love at the bottom of the well
And I fought back my feelings, yes I fought back my tears
And my senses had been reeling since my unrealized fears came true

I keep on breaking my heart
When its beating for you
Time heals a broken heart
But time has stood still since we’ve been apart

I took my lovey-dove, and I thought to myself
That there must be some love at the bottom of the well
And I fought back my feelings, yes I fought back my tears
And I knew there was healing in my unrealized fears come true

I keep on breaking my heart
When its beating for you
Time heals a broken heart
But time has stood still since we’ve been apart

You tied your heart in a knot now it looks like a fist
I keep on telling you, “Lovin’ is all in the wrist.”
But that’s not the way that you want it, now is it Luanne?
You need a man who’ll be feasting from the palm of your frantic hand
You need a man who’ll be feasting on you

Bhi Bhiman: 12-string guitar, vocals

Hold me down, keep me back, I don’t know what Ill do
My baby’s with that man again, I thought that they was through
Now she’s found a boocoo love, and here my heart lies ashen
O lord where were you in my crime of passion

She warn me once, she warn me twice, the third time was the harm
I’m pounding at her door again, but no cause for alarm
She don’t think that we’re a match, but I think we be matchin’
O lord where were you in my crime of passion

Every day I’m waiting for my baby just to call
Ain’t too proud to beg, and surely not to proud to crawl
I guess I’m just unworthy

Well, I was in the neighborhood, I thought that I’d stop by
I walked into her bedroom door, and much to my surprise
There they lay, as lovers do, and then I got to smashing
O lord where were you in my crime of passion

Locked up in the cooler I’m the new kid in the hall
But seeing her be happy wasn’t happiness at all
And someone yelled, “Orenthal”

The warden said, “Shut your trap and make love to that fool.”
I’m serving here one million years, until the earth is through
Now I sit a lonely man waiting on his ration
O lord where were you in my crime of passion

Bhi Bhiman: vocals, guitar, bass, drums, percussion
Sam Kassirer: piano, vibraphone

I think that I’d like to go live on a farm
And live out my days like a loose ball of yarn
Sit ‘neath the oak tree, my sweetheart and me
And carve out my name and my own destiny

Yes I’ll take what I’m given

I’ll buy me a hog and some acres of land
And dig through the soil with the strength of my hands
Pray for the rains to come nourish my crop
And love that old land ’til the day that I drop

Yes I’ll take what I’m given

I’ve lived in the city and I’ve seen all its charm
And I know what it feels like to be in her arms
But all this technology’s wearing me down
It lifts us all up, then we’re slammed to the ground
There’s too many egos in fast moving cars
Thinking that their lives are worth more than ours
I’d love to live life like a lazy old hound
Man wasn’t made to be this tightly wound

So I’ll take what I’m given
Yes I’ll take what I’m given

Bhi Bhiman: vocals, guitar, bass, percussion
Gabe Turow: cajon

Bhi Bhiman: guitar, vocals

I’m on the kimchee line
I’m on the kimchee line
I’m on the kimchee line
Its cabbage time

Well I went up on the mountain
To see if I could fly
Went down to the sea, lord
And the sea was dry
So I picked a pickled pepper
From the Leader’s Tree
I got some prawn and oysters
For the Vitamin E

I’m on the kimchee line
Its radish time

Well there ain’t no use boy
In trying to jump that fence
They got guns on the green side
You ain’t making no sense
So I climbed up on a ladder
To see what I could see
While the leader’s getting fatter
I feel my stomach bleed

I’m on the kimchee line
It’s scallion time

Well I gave up all my hopes
Of ever breaking these ropes
To the Leader’s jubilation
I still love my mighty nation
Before I tell you where I sit ma’am
I’d like to tell you where I stand
I got a niece and daughter
In a freer land

I’m on the kimchee line
It’s cucumber time

Bhi Bhiman: vocals, guitars, percussion
Sam Kassirer: piano, vibraphone, percussion
Ben Tudor: double-bass

We’re cooking the books, We’re cooking the books here
We were taking a bath, so I took to the mat everyone with a pension
Pay attention, you just lost your job, how’s your life? How’s your wife and my kid?
There’s some blood in your grits from your hand which I bit..I’d be throwing a shitfit
Grab your pitchforks and torches and take to the noches..You think that will work?

I’m going to jail, I’m going to jail now
But I’ll be phoning it in, slicing garlic so thin it liquefies in the pan
Luca Brasi and me start our own brasserie, and open up out on Sing Sing
I got my hand in ’bout ten honey jars spread from Crawford to Mars
I make a killing, ask Jeffrey Skilling

You don’t understand greed its not fun its a need
Its the pork not the beans, not the peaches, the cream, that you want in your belly
Take what I’m selling and pass me the jelly, excuse me, preserves
Tell me what do you think I deserve

Bhi Bhiman:vocals, guitar

Relax with the wax
They’re putting’ Lionel down on vinyl
The blood bank stickup went along without a hiccup
We jumped in the truck with a clucking’ mucky duck
And then we fostered a plan

You talk a lot about about killin’, killin’
But then there’s being killed, too.
You went out to battle with a broken atlatl
And the natives are coming for you

The tissue’s not the issue
Its a matter of the latter
Carradine’s a choker, I could broker any batter
I could sell ice to an Eskimo
In fact I think I done it before

You talk a lot about about killin’, killin’
But then there’s being killed, too.
You went out to battle with a broken atlatl
And the natives are coming for you

You sprung a little hole in your dingy
There’s a ringing in your ears and you’re drinking it dry
The banjo strummer with the mean clawhummer
Got a couple nasty licks for I

Ain’t nobody want a nice hot toddy
You drink it through your face and release it through your body
I learned a little trick about arithmetic
If you ain’t got no money you don’t need to know why

Relax with the wax
They’re putting’ Lionel down on vinyl
The blood bank stickup went along without a hiccup
I could sell ice to an Eskimo
In fact I think I done it before

You talk a lot about about killin’, killin’
But then there’s being killed, too.
You went out to battle with a broken atlatl
And the natives are coming for you

Bhi Bhiman: vocals, guitar, percussion, electric piano
Sam Kassirer: vibraphone
Gabe Turow: cajon
Ben Tudor: double-bass

I’m learning now what lovers have known
I’m seeing how all the jealousy grows
It starts with a fertile mind and a suspicious lie
“I’ll be out late. There’s food for you. Its my volunteer night.”

Do you think I’m dumb? I’m just a man who hasn’t a clue?
I got my eye on you

What you talkin’ ’bout business trips? You work at the mall.
You’re hanging up on my calls and always busting my balls
A man with only one thing on his mind
Has stole your heart and left me far behind

Our love is a roulette that’s overdue
I got my eye on you

You don’t talk to me no more like we’ve nothing to say
You’re cattin’ ’round like a harlot in a Shakespearean play
I’ll find me a god-fearing girl and she’ll treat me so good
You just laugh at me and say, “Sucker, maybe you should.”

I’m a pain, I’m just a rock inside your shoe
I got my eye on you

Bhi Bhiman: vocals, guitar
Sam Kassirer: piano

We got married in a Walmart
Down by the Wrangler jeans
I’m gonna dress my baby like a vampire
Next week on Halloween
Gotta lotta things down at the Walmart
Things like trampolines
I got me some whiskey and some diapers
For my darlin’ Lucy Jean

I’m a Ballerina on the lam

We got married at the Walmart
Down by the franks and beans
Killed a guy in Texas
Stole my grandma’s Hyundai
Now our faces on the magazine
Makin’ love and then we’re makin’ bacon
Just wipe down the Foreman grill
Looky there Bocephus over yonder
That’s where your Pappy was killed

I’m a Ballerina on the lam

I send my kids to school down at the Walmart
Its kinda like a private school
Baby says her favorite class is recess
Lucy Jean just pees the kiddie pool
Was born here at this Walmart and I’ll die here
It sits on an old Injun ground
The best maize-on-a-cob in the Tri-County
This Walmart’s proud to say it can be found

I’m a Ballerina on the lam
Well you done tried to fetch me
It ain’t worth to catch me
Come on and be my loving man
Well i been trying to reach ya
The time will just eat ya
I best be doin’ what I can

Bhi Bhiman: vocals, guitar, bass, cajon, organ, piano

Life’s been better, I’ve had more cheddar,
But all my feta’s run dry
I packed my bag and I’m headed for Saginaw,
I’m guessing that you’re taggin’ along
I called my captain to make something happen,
But he said that he was nappin’ it off

The fine swine from Frankenstein
Is coming to eat you up

Jackknife Suzie’s a two-bit floozy,
I had a to excusez moi self
Poor Miss Katie’s a fine young lady,
She been waitin’ down in Hades so long
She bought her lettuce from a medicine man,
Then he shrunk her head and jettisoned off

The fine swine from Frankenstein
Is coming to eat you up

All life’s giants have soul and science,
You can trace it to the Mayans of old
But too much boozin’, my feets need shoesin’
And my train keeps losing its thought
I traded my nickel for a warm icicle,
But it started to tickle my arm

The fine swine from Frankenstein
Is coming to eat you up