I was born on the wide prairie
with it's wheat so wild and strong.
I left my home when I turned twenny-one
Still dunno if I was wrong.
'Cuz I know a girl down in southern Illinois
Who has me tangled up like kudzu vines
One good look at her shinin' smile,
You can tell she'll never be mine.
And to tell you the truth, I miss all the laughs
Of lovin' one another like sociopaths
So I'm waitin', I'm waitin', I'm waitin', I'm waitin',
For angels to carry me back home.
If I was a bird, I'd tear up my throat
Throwin' songs across telephone wires.
If I was a dog I'd rattle my chain,
Let my handlers decide how I live, how I die.
I'd howl at the wind, and piss on the grass
So they'd know who I was.
Ask me why I leave a dying trace,
It's either for fear or maybe because,
Well to tell you the truth, I can't go free:
I need the master's leash more than it needs me.
So I'm waitin', I'm waitin', I'm waitin', I'm waitin',
For angels to carry me back home.
And I think I've arrived maybe once every year
When I'm laughin' with friends before we leave.
I think that I love you, I know that we're dyin...
Why the fuck should that be what
we alternatingly believe?
What makes one feel holy makes another feel broke,
Like I'm mostly my hat, like I'm mostly my coat,
And that lovers will lie is one thing you can trust,
So what we ain't said might still save us.
I'll be ashes if you be dust.
And to tell you the truth, I think god's there still,
In a sweet lovin' westland over the hill.
So I'm waitin', I'm waitin', I'm waitin', I'm waitin',
For angels to carry me back home.
So I'm waitin', I'm waitin', I'm waitin', I'm waitin',
For angels to carry me back home.
I don't know if I like this as much as his last album, but that's one hell of a standard. Willi still tells a captivating story. People struggling against the grindstone and public perception to boot. Album sounds great, and I hope to finally get to see him live soon. One of my favorite singer-songwriters in the last few years. Bart
On “Meet Me By the River,” Dawn Landes’s self-described “Nashville record,” buoyant country melodies settle deep into lush instrumentation. Bandcamp New & Notable May 7, 2018
Sierra Ferrell's music is the nectar that drips from vocal chords of angels on ecstacy and percocet, dripping with honey, and smelling of grandma's brownies. It has been proven to "cure what ails ya", and it temporarily wards off the existential dread that is slowly encompassing us all. Don't let the absurdity of our existence get you down. Listen to Sierra Ferrell instead.
I am me and I approved this message. oldmanj716