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   Lonnie GlassVengeance Is Mine
Acoustic/Americana HyperLink
http://indiemusicpeople.com/uploads/144492_6_1_2010_4_16_28_PM_-_Cover_art.jpg
song created                                

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
song updated                               

Monday, March 22, 2021 8:55:32 PM
stations playing this song              
Musings
Blues Music is Truth
wood 'n' steel
All Flavor
Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 5
IndieMusicPeople

 

















Music by Lonnie Glass
Lyrics by Norman Ball
copyright, 2010 SOCAN

John Wilkes Booth a southern actor and southern political radical assassinated Abraham Lincoln at Ford's Theatre on April 14th, 1865 just 5 days after Lee surrendered.
oh, my brother
I remain estranged from you
surrender is a folly
I will not accede to blue

Let Lee and Davis curry
small favors, bitter yields
my heart is pledged eternal
to Stonewall's blood-stained fields.

With Georgia all in tatters
And Dixie drenched in shame
I have set upon this course
let history judge my name

Chorus:
At the peak of their applause
the crowd convulsed in laughter
my pistol did articulate
the vengeance I was after

oh, my brother
our blood feud ran too deep
I cannot slur the valor of
the boys whose charge I keep

let cowards and politicians
break bread and offer toasts
My heart has left the living
for the company of ghosts

When brother strikes at brother
the wounds resist their cure
no cause is a lost one
When the principle is pure

Chorus:
At the peak of their applause
the crowd convulsed in laughter
my pistol did articulate
the vengeance I was after

the master of our suffering is
a pistol shot away
at last I near my target
and fate's eventful day

Chorus:
At the peak of their applause
the crowd convulsed in laughter
my pistol did articulate
the vengeance I was after x
Song Comments

Blues Music is Truth
folking bluesy groove, love this guys vocals cool on the roots vibe with a little change up, nice bluesin riff groove there Lonnie


Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 5
You is feeling like you was lost in the bush, boy? You says: It is a puling sample jungle of woods. You most shouts out: Bethicket me for a stump of a beech if I have the poultriest no- tions what the farest he all means. Gee up, girly! The quad gos- pellers may own the targum but any of the Zingari shoolerim may pick a peck of kindlings yet from the sack of auld hensyne. Lead, kindly fowl! They always did: ask the ages. What bird has done yesterday man may do next year, be it fly, be it moult, be it hatch, be it agreement in the nest. For her socioscientific sense is sound as a bell, sir, her volucrine automutativeness right on normalcy: she knows, she just feels she was kind of born to lay and love eggs (trust her to propagate the species and hoosh her fluffballs safe through din and danger!); lastly but mostly, in her genesic field it is all game and no gammon; she is ladylike in everything she does and plays the gentleman's part every time. Let us auspice it! Yes, before all this has time to end the golden age must return with its vengeance.


Musings
wow!


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