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Description
Inspired by JR "Mississippi" Gurner's Fine Lyric PieceBRICK BY BRICK. The song is about the subtle, but indefensible disruption of changes, both unforeseen and unstoppable; the Spirit wrestling with them tells the story.
Folk/Rock, but the Electric side of that room. No RTC wailing guitars, though - promise.
Very Best Regards,
Cooper
Folk/Rock, but the Electric side of that room. No RTC wailing guitars, though - promise.
Very Best Regards,
Cooper
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Lyrics
Changed Since Then
This wasn’t much to start with, but
Things have sure
Changed since Then
Hoping that it’s going to end
But I
Can’t Say When
A Battle raging
With Wounded Words
‘Round every Thought
The Clock clicks steady on
The best it can,
But the Slow Time it brings
Can’t Bring
What’s Sought
The Milky Way surrenders
A Star
Falling Down the Sky
But, it draws
An outline of your face
A Tear
From Your Eye
Feel the Beat of your Heart
Feel the Wave of your Hair
I hear the sound of your Step, but
There’s Nothing There
Grabbed me my lunch bucket
And I went
To the Factory Gate
Foreman said, “It’s Over, Boys.”
“No Need to Wait.”
Took the rusty chain
Pulls the Gate to
And with the Brass Lock
He Locks the Gate.
Hangs his Head and
Leads us towards Town.
No one Talked.
For a Moment,
I thought I Heard
A Whistle Blow.
Thought it might be
Ol’ 99, Like Thunder
From the Valley
Below.
There was Nothing There.
There was Nothing There.
There ain’t
No Mail Train
Comes to this
Town,
No More.
copyright 2006 Stillwater llc
This wasn’t much to start with, but
Things have sure
Changed since Then
Hoping that it’s going to end
But I
Can’t Say When
A Battle raging
With Wounded Words
‘Round every Thought
The Clock clicks steady on
The best it can,
But the Slow Time it brings
Can’t Bring
What’s Sought
The Milky Way surrenders
A Star
Falling Down the Sky
But, it draws
An outline of your face
A Tear
From Your Eye
Feel the Beat of your Heart
Feel the Wave of your Hair
I hear the sound of your Step, but
There’s Nothing There
Grabbed me my lunch bucket
And I went
To the Factory Gate
Foreman said, “It’s Over, Boys.”
“No Need to Wait.”
Took the rusty chain
Pulls the Gate to
And with the Brass Lock
He Locks the Gate.
Hangs his Head and
Leads us towards Town.
No one Talked.
For a Moment,
I thought I Heard
A Whistle Blow.
Thought it might be
Ol’ 99, Like Thunder
From the Valley
Below.
There was Nothing There.
There was Nothing There.
There ain’t
No Mail Train
Comes to this
Town,
No More.
copyright 2006 Stillwater llc


























Feter
a master piece ...dylans licks and singings
which I admire so much here .. this is the job !!
well done !!