Robert Coleman Trussell: Music

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)
• MP3 short clip, lo-fi play (modem)

BACKING VOCALS: RACHEL RIES/FIDDLE: KELLY WERTS

It was ten till midnight on Christmas Eve
Closing time coming soon
Cold wind whippin' on down the street
Thick clouds hiding the moon
It was me & Travis on the late shift
Selling whiskey, cheap wine & beer
Some wanted brandy, some preferred gin
Some asked for Everclear
Sacraments needed to mark the day
They say the savior was born
Just so them bastards could crucify him
Under his crown of thorns

Bicycle Charlie come through the door
Saying Boys don't lock up quite yet
I've got a bag full of change & a thirst that won't quit
I'll have a pint of your very best
Now here was a man whose journey was long
You could tell by the look in his eyes
I sacked up his whiskey, said But for the grace
Of who or whatever there go I
Now a pilgrim may have a story for you
About how he stumbled & fell
But just where & when, just how & why
He can no longer tell

There's no telling what a man might do
When he feels himself sliding down inside the blues
He might decide there ain't nothin' more to say
He might decide to gas up & just drive away

I rode shotgun &Travis he drove
Through the cold lonely streets to his place
I picked up his guitar & he held up a glass
In a toast to the old human race
Salvation is hard for drunk man to find
When his head's full of all that went wrong
Sometimes he must drink till the bottle is dry &
Wait for the gray light of dawn
A red letter Bible might do it for you
The Honky Tonk Blues works for me
A teller of tales, a singer of songs
Just might save a drunkard like me