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1. |
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There's only been one murder in all of Union Township's time
When Samuel Bergen told them Pete was victim to that crime
It was 1866 and on a humid summer day
When Sam chased down that murderer and laid him in his grave
On that fatal morning Peter saddled up to ride
Into town to sell the produce from the fields so dry
His farmhand Alec Beck watched Peter gallop out of view
And as he worked he plotted how to get that revenue,
Samuel Bergen knew just what he had to do
Samuel Bergen knew just what he had to do
On Pete's return, his pockets full, he hanged his saddle high
Under the smokehouse roof as always and squinted at the sky
He walked the thirty steps to his log home of just two rooms
Where the wide and open hall between may well have been his tomb
Pete sat on his splint-bottom chair in the breezy hallway's shade
He thought he was alone as his wife was down the road a-ways
But Alec watched from the smokehouse door, a rifle in his hand
He fired through a crack and killed that farmer of the land
Samuel Bergen knew just what he had to do
Samuel Bergen knew just what he had to do
Well Alec got the money, took Pete's saddle and his gun
Crept into the barn not thinking twice about what he'd done
Upon his victim's horse he traveled off up Three-Notch Road
Heading for the city with the money that he stole
And Pete's good wife, when she got home, found him dead in his chair
She gave the alarm to find a townsman who would die
To catch the man who'd stolen Peter's money and his life
Only Sam was brave enough to aid Pete's widowed wife
Samuel Bergen knew just what he had to do
Samuel Bergen knew just what he had to do
The fearless Samuel Bergen hit the trail in hot pursuit
The other townsmen trusted he was not afraid to shoot
Sam cornered Alec in the wood, Pete's honor to defend
But Alec turned that rifle on himself...and met his end
Samuel Bergen knew just what he had to do
Samuel Bergen knew just what he had to do
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2. |
St. Louis Split
03:08
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Last time I went to St. Louis
I came back to a broken heart
There in my kitchen he told me
Our love was a crumbling arch
My sweet baby, he never was mine
Never can be mine
We don't love ourselves so we can't love each other
Foundation built on a fault line
I called up my friend in St. Louis
And I told her how he had gone
She listened while I told the story
We both stayed up until dawn
My sweet baby, he never was mine
Never can be mine
We don't love ourselves so we can't love each other
Foundation built on a fault line
I still sometimes think of St. Louis
And the days before everything changed
I think of that arch that was standing so tall
How careful each stone was arranged
My sweet baby, he never was mine
Never can be mine
We don't love ourselves so we can't love each other
Foundation built on a fault line
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3. |
Bean Blossom Waltz
03:59
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The Whipstitch Sallies Indianapolis, Indiana
The Whipstitch Sallies: bluegrass rockers with panache. Electrifying presence, traditional instruments, and tight harmonies.
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