Look out, mama, there’s a white boat comin’ up the river...

[Bush_Eats_Beef]

...With a big red beacon, and a flag, and a man on the rail
I think you’d better call john,
’cause it don’t look like they’re here to deliver the mail
And it’s less than a mile away
I hope they didn’t come to stay
It’s got numbers on the side and a gun
And it’s makin’ big waves.

Daddy’s gone, my brother’s out hunting in the mountains
Big john’s been drinking since the river took emmy-lou
So the powers that be left me here to do the thinkin’
And I just turned twenty-two
I was wonderin’ what to do
And the closer they got,
The more those feelings grew.

Daddy’s rifle in my hand felt reassurin’
He told me, red means run, son, numbers add up to nothin’
But when the first shot hit the docks I saw it comin’
Raised my rifle to my eye
Never stopped to wonder why.
Then I saw black,
And my face splashed in the sky.

Shelter me from the powder and the finger
Cover me with the thought that pulled the trigger
Think of me as one you’d never figured
Would fade away so young
With so much left undone
Remember me to my love,
I know I’ll miss her.

[puerco-bellies]

1. Powder Finger.

My favorite Niel Young song, my favorite anti-war song.

[enigmatic]

2. A Neil Young classic

The Beat Farmers did a great version of this, too..

[Bush_Eats_Beef]

3. I've got the vinyl version of that album...

...buried deep in the archives.



:toast:

[enigmatic]

4. Oh yeah!

I loved The Beat Farmers; Country Dick died a true Rock N Roll Death, too; behind his kit in the middle of a show..

[Bush_Eats_Beef]

7. A remembrance, from the Webmaster of the Beat Farmers site:

I recall a letter he wrote me in September 1993. The letter started out "Always good to hear from people with good taste". He went on to tell me about his solo album and the "ten hour, quite the fuckin' radical ear to ear surgery" he was recovering from. His return address: "The Human Pez Dispenser, Spring Valley Inn". You see his surgery left a scar from one ear to the other around his neck. Yet he was determined to continue to play with the BFers. Nothing would stop him.

Soon, I was off to the midwest. Stuck in South Bend with little chance of seeing the BFers on a regular basis like before. For sanity's sake, I started the BFers e-mail list on the internet. It continues to grow today. I was able to get tour info to the fans and converse with numerous fans not only across the country but all over the world. There were occasional swings to the Chicago area so I was fortunate to see them play. One of these swings was amazing since Dick's doctors found a reoccurrence of cancer yet there he was. Dick was on stage in front of the crowd. He was too weak to play drums and as soon as he returned to San Diego, he was to go in for more tests- this time on his thyroid.

Dick was determined to get healthy. He lost weight and actually cut down on those beer runs and shots at the shows. Sure, there was an occasional fun time but he was in this for the long haul. The BFers must continue. And they did. They released two albums on Sector 2 Records. The first was "Viking Lullabys" spelled that way because Dick liked it! Most recently, "Manifold" was released. This new record is considered by many to be the strongest BFer album to date.

Dick's solo album, a "concept album" he told me not long ago, was done and he was hoping to get it released soon. All things were looking up. Then suddenly on a Wednesday night, November 8th, while playing drums in Whistler, British Columbia (about one hour out of Vancouver- a BFer strong hold!) the unthinkable happened. Country Dick was struck down by a heart attack at the age of 40 during the show.

http://sdam.com/artists/bf/kdrew.111195.html

:toast:

[enigmatic]

8. A bottomless voice, too..

He was 2 years younger than me whwn he died; boy...

[trackfan]

5. Me too!

I still rev up the turntable now and then.

[hobbit709]

6. My fave is

An Untitled Protest

Red and swollen tears tumble from her eyes
While cold silver birds who came to cruise the skies
Send death down to bend and twist her tiny hands
And then proceed to target "B" in keeping with their plans

Khaki priests of Christendom interpreters of love
Ride a stone Leviathan across a sea of blood
And pound their feet into the sand of shores they've never seen
Delegates from the western land to join the death machine
And we send cards and letters.

The oxen lie beside the road their bodies baked in mud
And fat flies chew out their eyes then bathe themselves in blood
And super heroes fill the skies, tally sheets in hand
Yes, keeping score in times of war takes a superman

The junk crawls past hidden death its cargo shakes inside
And soldier children hold their breath and kill them as they hide
And those who took so long to learn the subtle ways of death
Lie and bleed in paddy mud with questions on their breath
And we send prayers and praises.

-- Country Joe McDonald, March, 1968