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So, you want to be a bullfighter​.​.​.

by American Anodyne

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Wilco Cyndi 03:43
Wilco Cyndi By: American Anodyne Cyndi spent all of her money trying to make it to the big time Trying to make it to the sunshine, trying to get away from me She packed every single belonging in an old Chevy Nova She slammed the driver’s door, then she gave the bird to me As that Nova sped away, throwing dust and gravel in the Georgia clay I had a feeling that she’d be back some day Roger wilco Cyndi, you’re coming in loud and clear You fired off you guns and then you stowed your gear Sixteen miles a gallon and two greasy spoons a day That’ll eat a hole in your wallet girl and teach you to pray Pray the transmission don’t blow, pray the fan belt holds Al least until you’ve made your getaway If California’s the goal, you better pray your luck don’t fold Because high and dry won’t get you where you want to go Roger wilco Cyndi, you’re coming in loud and clear Tighten up that rubber band ‘til you’re away from here Well Cyndi called last week to tell me that she made L.A. She had stars ion her eyes and fifty bucks to her name She said whatever you do, don’t you tell nobody that you’ve heard from me They can find out what happened when they see me on the silver screen Well I hope that Cyndi won’t change her name and that somehow she could just stay the same But knowing her she’ll get caught in the Hollywood game Roger wilco Cyndi, you’re coming in loud and clear I don’t ever want to see that Nova back around here Roger wilco Cyndi, you’re coming in loud and clear You better not ever let me catch that Nova back around here
The Anniversary By: American Anodyne It’s a quarter to one, she pretty sure he’s not coming home It’s OK it just might be the best gift she got today Another circle on the calendar, but what the hell does she keep doing that for? He’s never made any effort, never really tried to believe She makes sure the kids are tucked in, take the bills out to the mailbox and walks back in Hoping there’s enough left over to take ‘em for watermelon on the 4th of July She makes sure to lock the door, but what the hell does she keep doing that for The only one she really wants to keep out has had a key since ‘94 What she really needs, is a bottle of whiskey And a Remington, to correct all the shit he’s done She should’ve listened to what her momma said, “that boy’s a loser, you’ll probably end up dead, Or at best he’ll be in jail and your kids’ll playing in my front yard. Where’re you going be when you’re living with me, and that boy’s in County for eternity. Then your kids are saying ‘I love you Daddy, Happy Father’s Day’ through taxpayer glass. Is that what you want, a life of hard times? A broke down shack and counting up dimes? Mark my words you’ll wish you listened, wish you could go back and start again.” She used to think about getting away, now her only concern is making it through today Tomorrow she’ll wake up and do it all again, it’s the kids that keep her moving on What she really needs, is a bottle of whiskey And a Remington, to correct all the shit he’s done It’s a quarter to one, She’s pretty sure he’s not coming home It’s OK it just might be the best gift she got today
Wheels 04:01
Wheels By: American Anodyne Well I guess I feel the need to confess about all the things that lead to my emptiness It just gets so hard to hang it in the air When you look so pretty standing there I might not be content it’s true But that’s got nothing to do with you It just that when the road starts calling All of my resolve starts falling I’ve got a song in my heart, it was written on the road I’ve got a feeling I can’t shake and I can’t unload It’s not that it’s right and it’s not that it’s wrong It’s just so hard to day I had to put it in a song Chorus: All I really want is wheels Someone on the slide and someone on the steel Someone to hold the bottom down And a long white line leading out of town It’s not that I don’t want to hang around And it ain’t that I don’t like this town It’s just that when the sun breaks over those hills All I really want is wheels I’ve always had a problem sitting still I don’t know what I’m looking for And maybe never will Every time I see a car with out of state plates My mind starts running like an old V-8 I want dust on the windshield And rubber on the road Every time I think about it I want to explode I want climb behind the wheel Let the windows down Put the pedal to the metal and blow this town Put my guitar in the back and let these wheels ride But it’s never fast enough, I’m never satisfied Three on the tree or four or the floor I don’t give a damn I just want one gear more
Get in the Car Laura Jane By: American Anodyne When you looked in the rearview your eyes were so wide For your first solo trip on a long distance ride You turned the wheels south and the engine did roar And you swore that you’d never see Lincoln no more Well the miles they flew by to the right of the car You saw the Mississippi over a dark dashboard You kept the river on the left, kept the wheat to the right But when you pulled into Texas, you lost your wide eyes Chorus: Well now get in the car Laura Jane This place is too wicked for a girl from the plains Your heart is too fragile for these places and names So get in the car Laura Jane You blew out your tire just over the state line No help for hours and you started to cry Then a dented old pickup pulled off to the side You probably knew better, but you still got inside I told you my name and you faked half a smile You didn’t say more than ten words for two hundred miles I could tell you didn’t think too much of me, But this is my truck girl, no one rides for free Chorus Now six years have passed since you took up that load And the years have flown by like miles on the road It ain’t ever been good, but it ain’t always been bad Since you got in my truck, but you don’t wish you had So twice now you’ve run and twice now you’ve tried Twice now you’ve called in the middle of the night So twice now I’ve pulled you off the side of the road And for the rest of our lives this may never get old Chorus Well I can see that you’re tired, I can see you’re afraid But I’m tired of your shit, I’m so tired of your ways So get in the goddamn car Get in the goddamn car Get in the goddamn car… Laura Jane
Call My Brother By: American Anodyne Well I’ve got me a job, nothing fancy I’ve it since I left high school Always pay my taxes on time And I send my kids to school I go to church on Sunday Try to live by the golden rule But sometimes I do unto others Like I’m a golden fool To tell the truth I don’t mean no harm But sometimes my restless bone Starts itchin’ and kickin’ and pokin’ and proddin’ And I’ve got to leave my home I head on down to the watering hole And when you hear me start to complain If you know what’s good for you You’ll stay out of my way Chorus: I might get drunk tonight, get in a fight Til I hear the cops in route Get ‘em up off their lazy asses It’ll do ‘em some good to get out At the end of the day in a town this size There ain’t too much to shout about I might just get drunk tonight And call my brother to bail me out Well my wife Bless her gentle soul She cured me of most of my wicked ways Done her best to saved my soul But here lately she says It’s getting pretty old I’m tired of praying every Sunday To get you out of Saturday’s hole Well I say listen woman Don’t you worry ‘bout me Cause ever since you had me saved Me and Jesus are tight you see All my sins got left in the river And washed right out to sea St. Peter ain’t got no problems He ain’t got no dirt on me Chorus, repeat chorus
Bastard Sons of the New Depression By: American Anodyne Well I’m out of work, out of luck Uninsured and I’m pretty much fucked All I’ve got is my momentary redemptions Hard times they’re going round You can see ‘em on every face in town Every soul seems lost in the same progression Chorus: Mother look at me now, I’m out of work and I don’t know how to get Underpaid for all my labor Pop if you could see me now Caught in a world lost in regression Another bastard son of the new depression Hard times they’re universal Everybody’s got ‘em, they’re going commercial There must be profit to be made in laying blame Every day I do what I can but I’m like smoke in the air without any plans and every decision I can’t make seems to fan the flames chorus: I could take flight to another town See all new faces and all new frowns The same complaints in new destinations But my grandmother still needs the grass cut I’m happy to help, I guess it’s just her luck That all my efforts build a monument to my frustrations Chorus:
El Dorado, Dark Blue By: American Anodyne Wake up in a cold grey cell, you don’t remember your name Wake up in your woman’s arms & you feel about the same Everyday is the same routine, the same wretched waste of time & if you don’t get out, you’re going to leave this world behind Your grand plans fell apart at 17, when Jenni broke the news to you Time to trade in that two-seater on a family sedan, El Dorado, dark blue Instead of the wind in your hair & the open road keeping you young and alive You got a ring, a mortgage, a stroller and a dog, and the same old 9 to 5 Punch the clock twice a day in a place where time never stops To make the money you’ve already spent on things you never really got & so it went year after year, piano lessons and ball games Jenni still has the same eyes that she did, but the lines on her face have changed Chorus I’ve been riding in a dark blue El Dorado From 6 in the morning to the Carolina shore I’m going to trade in this worn out pink slip on a brand new piece of mind Put the top down, and leave the El Dorado behind Wake up in a cold grey cell, and you don’t remember your name Wake up in an empty bed, you were 17 just yesterday Kids are grown they’ve got kids of their own. They don’t call too much these days Jenni’s been gone a while now, 3 years ago come this May For 34 years you worked a 9 to 5 til there was nothing else you could do Don’t have the skills for anything else, its small town roots for you When you’re all alone it’s easy to remember all the dreams that went up in flames All the plans you forgot about when Jenni changed her name When you start to reason it out, seems like one of two things to do Get busy moving on, or get busy moving through You take early retirement, half a pension’s more than enough for just you You pack only one small suitcase, hop into El Dorado, dark blue Chorus


released March 1, 2011

Erick Jones - Vocals, Guitar, Harmonica
Chris Thacker - Lead Guitar, BGVs
Kevin Rainwater - Drums, Percussion, BGVs
Gregg Shapiro - Bass

All tracks were recorded at Wizkid Sound
Engineered, Mixed, and Mastered by Mike O'connor

Thanks to Philip Frobos for the Fender Deluxe, Andrew Rudeseal for the UA 610, Jeff Cochran for the mics, Deke Spears and Chris Unck for their contributions, and to our loving families for their continued support.


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American Anodyne Atlanta, Georgia

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