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DAKOTA

by The Good Hand

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1.
Fair you well, Restless Companion I hope the wind can set you free Ride it 'cross the golden sun I'll be laying here in the shade of this tree Fair you well, Restless Companion I hope the river gives you what you need Babble and bubble with the burbling brook I'll be whispering in the rustle of the leaves Fair you well in rain that splashes Fair you well in hail that falls You look cool in those sunglasses Let it play, baby, don't hit pause I'm sticking here, planting a garden The muscle in my arm is the joy of my toil I spend my days pickin' guitar And pushing seeds in the rich, dark soil Fair you well, in thunder crashes Fair you well, when empires fall You look cool in those sunglasses You keep 'em on 'cause you've seen it all I will build a house of timber You keep walking down the road of dreams When you need a place to crash Share my bed, I'll mend your seams Fair you well, in lightning flashes Fair you well when mountains crawl You look cool in those sunglasses Ring me up, I'll take your calls Yeah, ring me up, baby, I'll take your calls
2.
Cans 03:03
When I was a young boy I’d run off in the woods Where there was no-one to yell at me I’d open that can, make a face but I’d suck it down In the cool air of the evergreen trees Cans to the left of me Cans to the right No, I can’t get away from these cans Cans in my blood stream Cans in both of my hands No, I can’t get away from these cans Way back in high school we’d build a pyramid out of ‘em We’d build it up just to knock it down Now that was a long time and I don’t really think about it that much But it seems like a build things up just to knock ‘em down Cans to the left of me Cans to the right No, I can’t get away from these cans Cans in my blood stream Cans in both of my hands No, I can’t get away from these cans No, I can’t get away from these cans No, I can’t get away from these cans
3.
My father laid down with his dog in the kitchen My dad was seven and seven, his dog was one and one My father was a boxer, his dog a Bernard A saint, one thing my father ain’t Pops would go bang when we was growing up He was a firecracker and our house was his cup One day his dog laid down and could not get back up My father laid down next to her, he did not even cuss He said, “I’m not strong enough to hold you here to keep you in this world. I am weak so I will lay right down, an offer of comfort.” My father was like his dog, he’s been made to lay down All those years in the ring getting his head knocked around Somehow he managed back up on his feet And if he were not my dad he’d be a man I wanna meet “I’m not strong enough to hold you here to keep you in this world. I am weak so I will lay right down, an offer of comfort.” My father laid down with his dog in the kitchen My dad was seven and seven, his dog was one and one My father was a boxer, his dog a Bernard A saint, one thing my father ain’t
4.
Truckstop 02:53
I wash my face in a truckstop bathroom brush my teeth, I comb back my hair I wash my face in a truckstop bathroom I’m gonna find a good job around here I can drive a truck, swing a sledge hammer I can mix a drink and I know a joke or two I can drive a truck, swing a sledge hammer I got two good hands, I’m gonna put ‘em to use When I find work I will send for you I’m beating all the bushes, overturning every stone When I find work I will send for you For you and your daughter I’m gonna build a home So I wash my face in a truckstop bathroom Brush my teeth, I comb back my hair I wash my face in a truckstop bathroom I’m gonna find a good job around here
5.
Prisoner 02:50
I was born a prisoner I prisoner I’ll stay To the vagaries of my blood and the wind that blows away I first was chained to the wind by a woman on Love Street She laid her lips across my lips, slipped shackles on my feet She said, “You were born a prisoner A prisoner you’ll stay To the vagaries of your blood And the wind that blows away” I next was tied to the sky by a cowboy with a drum Now I dance to live since he bound me with a golden lasso of sun He said, “You were born a prisoner A prisoner you’ll stay To the vagaries of your blood And the wind that blows away” I’ll take my stand where the Susquehanna and the Potomac meet Wind brushes back my hair and river rushes over my feet Yes the sun and wind, it tans my hide, breath fills up my lungs Got a salty taste on my lips and a new song on my tongue CHORUS The wind blows away, boys, wind blows away Bends back the branches, bows the wheat and hay
6.
It was in the town of Griffin in the year of ‘83 When a man by the name of Crego came walking up to me Saying “how do you do young fellow, and would you like to go And spend one summer pleasant on the trail of the buffalo.” Me being out of work right then to this Crego I did say This going out on the buffalo road depends upon your pay But if you pay good wages, transportation to and fro Then I’ll agree to work for you ‘till the hills of Mexico” He said, “Yes, I pay good wages and transportation, too If you’ll agree to work for me until the season’s through But if you do grow homesick and try to run away You’ll starve to death out on the trail And also lose your pay.” With all this flattering talking he signed up quite a train Some ten or twelve in number, all able-bodied men Our trip it was a pleasant one as we took the westward road Until we hit ole Boggy creek Was there our pleasures ended our troubles all began A lightning storm hit us, it made the cattle run I got all full of stickers in the cactus that did grow Outlaws waiting to pick us off on the trail of the buffalo Our hearts were cased in buffalo hocks, buffalo was our bread All we had to sleep on was buffalo skins for a bed While skinning the damned old stinkers our lives they had no show I tell you there’s no hell on earth like the trail of the buffalo The working season ended and the drover would not pay “You went and drunk too much, you’re all in debt to me.” But the cowboys had never heard of such a thing as a bankrupt law So we left that Crego’s bones to bleach in the hot, desert sun
7.
My first truck was a Chevy, my next truck will be a Ford When I turned that Chevy upside down I had the pedal floored I was kicking out ‘cross the gravel when she got away from me first truck was a Chevy and I wrapped her ‘round a tree Kicking it down on a red dirt road Sun is hot and the air is cold Got nowhere that I need to be Sky is blue far as I can see Nothing on the radio so I sing Woman I love wears a wedding ring I crawled out of the wreckage and I lay down in the dirt I knew that truck’d never run again, and my whole body hurt I passed out in the red dirt and woke to the ambulance door I loved that Chevy like a good ole friend but my next truck was gonna be a Ford And if I had to do it all again I prolly wouldn’t change a Goddamn thing It ain’t that I’ve always been correct There’s more than one truck that I have wrecked My first wife was a beauty, her eyes were black as night I watched her walk away from me, man she was outta sight The woman I love now has got a man, she lends me borrowed time It’s a living reminder nothing I’ve owned was ever mine
8.
My friend he is a gentle giant He's got a gap tooth in his grin I've seen his heart fall on the floor And I'll see him next time on the wind Doubled over we are laughing Stupid jokes again I've seen us laugh 'till ribs were cracking I'll see us both laugh on the wind You were feeling bad about a woman She dumped you and chose him I've seen you with your shoulders slumped Well, I'll see ya next time on the wind Fist fights out behind the bar I don't believe you were born to sin I've seen you hold a bird in your hand I'll see ya next time on the wind Misfits, man, we were together Swear to God you are my kin We saw rigs moved across the Bakken See ya next time on the wind So boom down and hold your load Crane operator ain't my friend We've both seen the wrong end of a cussing Well, I'll see ya next time on the wind When the crane operators sing Pick your eyes up off your plate Wipe the grease off your chin I've seen you eat two full dinners I'll see ya next time on the wind

credits

released April 4, 2022

The songs on this album, with the exception of Restless Companion, were recorded in partnership with Random House Audio for the audiobook version of the book THE GOOD HAND (A Memoir of Work, Brotherhood, and Transformation in an American Boomtown) by Michael Patrick F. Smith, released by Viking Press.

All songs written by Michael Patrick Flanagan Smith, with the exception of Buffalo Skinners, a traditional, arranged by MPFS.

Restless Companion was recorded in Los Angeles at Answer Studio. MPFS on vocals and acoustic guitars, Al Sgro on drums, bass, slide, and piano. Taylor Kropp on electric guitar. The session was produced, engineered and mixed by Al Sgro, mastered by Hans DeKline.

Cans, My Father Was A Boxer Prisoner, Truckstop, My First Truck Was A Chevy, and Buffalo Skinners were recorded at Lexington Recording Company in Lexington, Kentucky, produced by MPFS, engineered by J. Thomas Hnatow. These songs feature MPFS on acoustic guitar and vocals, Susan Alcorn on pedal steel guitar, Maeve Royce on upright bass, Al Sgro on drums, and Blakely Burger on fiddle. Linda Jean Stokely and Arty Hill sing back up vocals. Linda Jean also plays harmonium on Buffalo Skinners. Some instrumentation was recorded at various home studios.

Additional tracking on My First Truck Was A Chevy was done at Small Blue in Lexington, Kentucky and feature Robby Cosenza on percussion and J. Tom Hnatow on electric bass, electric guitar, organ, and other acoustic guitars.

These songs were mixed by Duane Lundy, and mastered by Paul Dugre.

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The Good Hand Lexington, Kentucky

Michael Patrick F. Smith is a writer and musician. His book THE GOOD HAND: A Memoir of Work, Brotherhood, and Transformation, is currently available on Viking Press.

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