57 Chevy
Artist(s): Tom Jessen's Dimestore Outfit
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Writer(s):
Thomas Anthony Jessen (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Alternative, Alternative Country, Alternative Rock, Americana, Country, Folk, Male Vocal, Roots Rock, Singer Songwriter
Keywords:
Bar, Blue Collar, Car, Countryside, Deep South, Down Home, Drifter, Drifting, Drinking, Driving, Fields, Flashback, Heartland, Highway, Memories, Remembering, Roots, Rough, Searching, Southern, Storyteller, Struggle, Tough, Trailer Park, Trailer Trash, Trouble, Truck Stop, Vagabond, Whiskey, Working Man
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Pedal Steel Guitar
BPM:
118
Key:
D
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
57 Chevy
Surrounded by snow and friends I don't know
I drive buy that 57 Chevy in the lot
I'm putting in my time but it's too slow going by
pretending to get wise and quit my job
Gotta enough money to buy that 57
turn the radio on and I'm just floating over the pavement
ain't nothing back there I haven't already found
Bobby's found work as a daytime cook
but that don't make him any less lost as me
behind the black barred prison
lacking in decision
easy to settle for blind picket fence security
Judy's scared thinking she's in love with someone else
Her pictures lying shotgun next to me
I'm gonna write her a letter, telling her maybe it's better
than a straightjacket smile in the passenger's seat
Black Sheep
Artist(s): Tom Jessen's Dimestore Outfit
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Writer(s):
Thomas Anthony Jessen (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Alternative Country, Alternative Rock, Americana, Country, Male Vocal, Roots Rock, Singer Songwriter
Keywords:
Alone, Bar, Blue Collar, Car, Countryside, Down Home, Drifter, Drifting, Drinking, Driving, Heartland, Highway, Lonely, Loner, Lost, Memories, Outcast, Remembering, Roots, Rough, Searching, Southern, Storyteller, Struggle, Tough, Trailer Park, Trailer Trash, Trouble, Truck Stop, Twangy, Vagabond, Whiskey, Working Man
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Horns, Organ, Strings
BPM:
122
Key:
E
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Black Sheep
Well he switched to a taller glass of something harder
and started asking for phone numbers and trouble
and he always stands a little too close to you
throwing words and ideas in the air he thought he could juggle
Woah black sheep, the flock left him behind
Somewhere down the road he lost sight of what he was trying to find
Well he's a kick in the pants
and a prayer away from anything I'd understand
a misguided inventor, a general and a thief all rolled into one
and I flip flop between anger and pity
and I only stop after it's calloused with apathy
I can hear it in every confident word
the frustration in trying to assure himself what he says is true
sputtering like a car trying to soak up the last drop of fuel
shivering like a child
with faith built on crutches and a sigh
backsliding on the defense
that you can't burn your bridges when they haven't been built yet
burn your bridges when they haven't been built yet
And he said,
when will it finally end
when will it finally sweep me up in a ray of sunlight and carry me like a bird
I tried to grab the keys but he moaned he was fine
and then he tripped out into the street
and gave himself up to the night
Oh black sheep you gonna try and run and hide
somewhere down the road he lost sight of what he was trying to find
trying to find
Well he once was found but now he's lost
Do As Yer Told
Artist(s): Tom Jessen's Dimestore Outfit
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Writer(s):
Thomas Anthony Jessen (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Alternative Country, Garage Rock, Indie Rock, Male Vocal, Punk Rock, Punkabilly, Rockabilly, Surf Rock
Keywords:
Attitude, Bar, Cool, Crime, Dark, Dirty, Downtrodden, Drifter, Driving, Drugs, Garage, Gritty, Halloween, Hazy, Hillbilly, Homeless, Horror, Leather, Lo Fi, Lo-Fi, Minimal, Mysterious, Psychedelic, Quirky, Raw, Retro, Reverb, Roadhouse, Roots, Storyteller, Street, Surf, Swampy, Tattoo, Tremolo, Truck Stop, Weird, low
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Keyboard, Pedal Steel Guitar
BPM:
145
Key:
Em
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Do As Yer Told
I bought a 69 dodge dart it cleaned me out dry
raining so hard the wipers hypnotize
left a wake of leaves, a girl on the sly
a chained up mutt, and the sheriff sleepy-eyed
I'm gonna hide under leaves and live in sidewalk cracks
my double take ghosts are straining their necks
tie your shoelaces tight, spit on your soles
wooden nickel, pinch of salt, do as yer told
Do as yer told, do as yer told
Mama had a baby as his head popped off
Mama had a baby and his head popped
East Elm Street
Artist(s): Tom Jessen's Dimestore Outfit
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Writer(s):
Thomas Anthony Jessen (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Alternative, Alternative Country, Alternative Rock, Americana, Instrumental, Roots Rock, Singer Songwriter
Keywords:
Bar, Bittersweet, Blue Collar, Car, Countryside, Death, Dirge, Down Home, Drumroll, Fanfare, Funeral, Funeral March, Heartland, Highway, Louisiana, March, Melancholy, New Orleans, Remembering, Roots, Rough, Sad, Solemn, Southern, Street Funeral, Tears, Trailer Park, Trailer Trash, Trouble, Twangy, Whiskey, Working Man
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Horns
BPM:
74
Key:
C
Tempo:
Slow/Downtempo
Time Signature:
3/4
Let It Go
Artist(s): Tom Jessen's Dimestore Outfit
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Writer(s):
Thomas Anthony Jessen (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Alternative, Alternative Country, Alternative Rock, Americana, Country, Indie Rock, Male Vocal, Roots Rock
Keywords:
Bar, Blue Collar, Car, Countryside, Deep South, Down Home, Driving, Encouragement, Fields, Heartland, Highway, Inspirational, Motivational, Political, Roots, Rough, Searching, Southern, Struggle, Trailer Park, Trailer Trash, Truck Stop, Twangy, Upbeat, Uplifting
Instruments:
Bass, Brass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Horns, Organ, Strings
BPM:
124
Key:
G
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Let It Go
Can you hear this big ol' world squeaking on it's axis?
like bicycle spokes left out in the rain
do you have rusty resolutions
you been trying to put in motion and practice?
and all effort to crawl out of bed seem to be in vain
aw, babe let it go!
Is it all broken by the wayside?
Do you see it stuck high up in a tree?
You'll break your back hoisting that baggage
Drop it babe and walk away
Let it go!
Do they lay it on you
like a blanket of stones?
with the strictest intentions
to bust all your bones
hey babe, GO!
Let it go!
When you find yourself on a plane
with your treasure maps and your suitcase
why do you run from place to place
trying to find it and explain it all away
Let it go!
Made In The USA
Artist(s): Tom Jessen's Dimestore Outfit
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Writer(s):
Thomas Anthony Jessen (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Alternative Rock, Heartland Rock, Indie Rock, Male Vocal, Roots Rock
Keywords:
Angry, BBQ, Bar, Blue Collar, Car, Countryside, Cynical, Deep South, Defiant, Down Home, Driving, Fed Up, Fields, Heartland, Highway, Political, Protest, Roots, Rough, Searching, Social Commentary, Society, Southern, Struggle, Trailer Park, Trailer Trash, Truck Stop, Twangy, War
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Organ
BPM:
150
Key:
D
Tempo:
Mid-Uptempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Made In The USA
It's putting food on someone's table
proudly made in the USA
put to use in other countries
producing our enemies straightaway
not much in the way of detective work
stenciled right there on the casing
when you don't know who dropped it in your dirt
you're gonna blame the guy who made it
Mental concussive blast
dirty bombs from the chest
looking to take out their rage
made in the USA
Their labor takes out someone's daughter
it pays for theirs to go to school
they don't think about what it's for
throwing away their money on the football pool
assembly lines produce resentment
factories sowing revenge and rage
as long as they keep making them
it secures the reason for why their made
silent drones float in other countries
behind clouds in the sky
some pilot in California on the handles
dismembers kids and widows the wives
they want to call it incidental
it's just a shrug from the brass
then they look on dumbfounded
when they see them burning effigies and American flags
they want to escalate the effort
wipe 'em out to the core
for every one combatant killed
it creates four more
Pepper Spray
Artist(s): Tom Jessen's Dimestore Outfit
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Writer(s):
Thomas Anthony Jessen (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Alternative, Alternative Country, Alternative Rock, Americana, Country, Indie Rock, Male Vocal, Roots Rock
Keywords:
Angry, BBQ, Bar, Blue Collar, Car, Cops, Countryside, Crowd, Cynical, Deep South, Defiant, Down Home, Driving, Fed Up, Fields, Heartland, Highway, Police, Political, Protest, Roots, Rough, Searching, Social Commentary, Society, Southern, Struggle, Trailer Park, Trailer Trash, Truck Stop, Twangy, War, Working Man
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Keyboard
BPM:
120
Key:
C
Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Pepper Spray
I saw the crowds, I saw them shouting them down.
Chanting "shame on you, shame on you!"
Cops had hands on night sticks with nervous looks behind plastic
facing an army of cell phone camera crews
It makes you want to curse, setting off vibrations in the universe
with a shock wave slapping the stupid senseless
But I've got a paralysis of heart, hesitating to jump start
under the weight of it all seeming useless
Pepper Spray from a top down "OK"
Just give the word and this embarrassment will go away
It's a goddamn election year,
the media will jump on this like a horsefly on a steer
and I need it gone!
The cops traded in their blues and their citation pads
for training in military tactics, swat teams and battering rams
tell them they're fighting a war, fit them with military drag
and they'll raid your house, shoot your dog, and bust you for a dime bag
Now it's force first, 'cause there's no consequences for using it
they'll taser you to comply and arrest you for dissent
when the public gets violent everybody says they were out of their minds
when the state gets violent we accept it as justified
Pepper Spray from a top down "OK"
just give the word and this embarrassment will go away
If you build it they will come
gives our constituents jobs and it gives cops M16 guns
Will you comply? Will you comply?
You have the freedom to do as we tell you
Supply And Demand
Artist(s): Tom Jessen's Dimestore Outfit
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Writer(s):
Thomas Anthony Jessen (BMI) 100%
Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%
Category:
Rock
Subcategories:
Alternative, Alternative Country, Alternative Rock, Americana, Country, Folk, Male Vocal, Roots Rock, Singer Songwriter
Keywords:
Angry, Bar, Blue Collar, Countryside, Defiant, Down Home, Drifter, Drifting, Drinking, Driving, Fields, Groove Change, Hardworking, Heartland, Highway, Hillbilly, Job, Memories, Political, Poor, Roots, Rough, Social Commentary, Society, Southern, Storyteller, Struggle, Tempo Change, Tough, Trailer Park, Trailer Trash, Trouble, Truck Stop, Vagabond, Whiskey, Working Man
Instruments:
Bass, Drums, Electric Guitar, Pedal Steel Guitar
BPM Modulation:
138 to 85
Key:
C
Tempo Modulation:
Medium/Midtempo to Mid-Downtempo
Time Signature:
4/4
Lyrics:
Supply And Demand
You wonder why I can never look you in the eye
well I've memorized every pattern on this floor
Her eyes are so naked I feel as if I'm intruding
if I look at them too long
I projected your deceptive emotion
like a summer vacation slideshow
but I guess there was something else
behind that holiday smile
your ballet mirages and my one way economics
fall prey to wistful invention
I'll supply the expectations and demand that you be true
well I know I'm talking cliches and turning verbal tricks
but even the cheesiest love songs in a bar
turn profound when you're three sheets to the wind
I could change this whiskey to water
but to you it's just pathetic heresy
sometimes when there's nothing left to do
I sit stacked and smoke myself silly
and make myself break down
because i guess i feel it's the thing I should do
I could toss around the word love like a boomerang
but I lost my catcher's mask
you wear your skepticism with rubber boots
and chastity wrapped in a cast
and maybe the mailbox might hold simple salvation
and i've seen the future in a crystal glass of beer
and I ain't pretending that understand a thing
but this ignorance is blistering
but open wounds dry clean
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