The road I’m walking is a lonesome road.
The trees are swaying but they’re swaying no one.
The night finds me holed up in a juke joint on Makanda Row.
Singing songs about the heartland for some junkies up from Cairo.
I’ll write, said I a long time ago.
Stayed with a fella who rode the rails he said.
On the freight train from New Orleans back in Sixty-seven.
And the companies they’d let you, wouldn’t give a damn about you, my friend.
You could camp where you wanted, be a tramp and still anointed and fed.
That’s not the way it is anymore.
In the dawn I started walking toward the river plain.
To the big black muddy waters of old Huck Finn.
This tortured highway of our memories sweeps me under like a child, raise me up from all my sins and cleansed.
Lead me forth where I may go, down this long and empty road, I swear
To return to you again.
On the banks I feel it coming, this mighty flood.
Oh the times they are a-changing, but they’re changing no one.
If God wills that it continue till all the wealth of all the ages be sunk,
Till every drop of blood we drew shall take another by the sword, it’s said,
The Lord is right and true.
I’ve made up my mind, I’m coming home to you.
Where we’ll plant the wild rye in the morning dew.
This endless road has took its toll, left me old and moving slow I know.
Please forgive me all my pride, all the years that I denied my soul.
I’ll go. I’ll follow you.
credits
from Where the Lone Pine Stands,
released November 5, 2015
lyrics & tune: d. schramm
guitar & vocals: d. schramm
banjo: r. wittke
From Cork, Ireland, Lewis Barfoot writes mystic, majestic songs derived from regional folk, with an ambient music aura. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 11, 2023