The Trip - Dave Rawlings Machine

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"The Trip" - Dave Rawlings Machine - Nashville Obsolete - 2015
               Transcribed by wranglingoutlaw

Intro -  |  |  |  |  |
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 Whistles blow

              
ing, people ge

  
t on trains
              
Without knowin

 
g where They'r

e going
             
 Someone's Dau

              
ghter, someone

   
's Sister, 
              
someone's Teac

   
her going down

 the road


 With a body, 

a handkerchief

, 
       
And a hatchet 

from an unspea

kable crime

 But there's n

o one waiting 

for Them, 
              
There's no jud

       
gement down th

e line

             
 Banjos ring a

     
nd chickens sq

uall, 
             
 And little ba

        
bies crow
             
 The winter le

              
aves, and the 


spring unwinds

, 
    
And summer com

es again You k

now


 Pink is the c

olour of My tr

ue love's dres

s, 
              
And black is t

   
he colour of H

er heart

 But I could n

ever leave old

 Virgini',
             
And so it neve

   
r parts

             
 Ebony face, e

          
bony nails, 
             
Ebony coffin o

n the rails
             
 Moving south,

     
 C-O-D, 
          
Going home to 

mother


 Some said for

 valor, for gl

ory, 
    
for treasure, 

for pride
             
 Sometimes bro

              
ther hates bro

     
ther

             
So take a trip

              
 wherever Your

  
 conscience ha

s to roam
             
It's much too 

              
hard to try to

             
 live a lie at

 
 home

             
My boots are c

              
racked with ro

   
ad dirt and as

phalt, 
 
Spit, and brok

en dreams
             
 Chewing gum a

           
nd safety pins

, 
         
All what hold 

Me in at the s

eams

             
 My pegs are l

              
oose, my screw

              
s too tightly 


wound to get i

n tune
             
But I still tr

              
y sometimes on

              
 those golden 

          
summer afterno

ons

             
So take a trip

              
 wherever Your

  
 conscience ha

s to roam
             
It's much too 

              
hard to try to

             
 live a lie at

 
 home

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 There's a pic

              
ture of an old

    
 black man, 

 In a beaver h

at
           
 He wears a hi

dden smile 
      
And a pair of 

white spats
 
             
 Don't pretend

            
 You didn't no

tice His stare
             
You're edgy, a

              
nd sweating, a

             
nd loaded for 


bear

             
The skeletons 

       
dance tonight,

 
           
Bring Your bot

tle and Your b

oots
             
 And Your mand

            
olin that Bian

ca -
             
Alatorre tried

   
 to shoot

             
 Oh but what's

              
 a bullet hole

    
 or two betwee

n friends ?
             
And who can sa

              
y when the wel

              
l goes dry or 

             
where the stor

  
y ends ?

             
So take a trip

              
 wherever Your

  
 conscience ha

s to roam
             
It's much too 

              
hard to try to

             
 live a lie at

 
 home

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 Hotel lives a

   
nd hotel wives

 
       
That come and 

go with the sh

eets
  
Ah, But what's

 a marriage 
             
 If it can't b

  
e held up to k

itchen heat?

             
 Once I knew e

              
ach valley of 

     
that beautiful

 shore
             
But I don't go

              
 to the summer

             
 fair much any


more

             
So take a trip

              
 wherever Your

  
 conscience sa

ys to roam
             
It's much too 

              
much to try to

             
 live a lie at

 
 home

             
 Your harmonic

     
a is blown bab

y, 

Throw it away
             
 Your denim sh

        
irt is ragged 
          
And Your dirty

 collar is fra

yed

             
 I tried to pl

              
ay My horn for

            
 You, but I co

uldn't seem to

 find a note
             
So I picked up

              
 pen and paper

             
, and this is 

       
what I wrote

             
Go take a trip

              
 wherever Your

  
 conscience ha

s to roam
             
It's much too 

              
hard to try to

             
 live a lie at

 
 home

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