The Countertop Chronicles

New Potato Caboose
Lyrics by Robert Petersen, music by Phil Lesh

Last leaf fallen;
Bare earth where green was born.
Black Madonna, two eagles hang against a cloud.

Sun comes up blood red;
Wind yells among the stone.
All graceful instruments are known.

When the windows all are broken
and your love’s become a toothless crone,
when the voices of the storm sound like a crowd,
winter morning breaks;
you’re all alone.

The eyes are blind,
blue visions are all a seer can own
And touching makes the flesh to cry out loud.
This ground on which the seed of love is sown.
All graceful instruments are known.

Alligator
Words by Robert Hunter and Ron McKernan

Sleepy alligator in the noonday sun
Sleepin by the river just like he usually done
Call for his whisky
He can call for his tea
Call all he wanta but he
can’t call me

Oh no
I been there before
and I’m not comin back around
there no more

Creepy alligator comin all around the bend
Talkin bout the times when we was mutual friends
I check my mem’ry
I check it quick yes I will
I check it runnin
some old kind of trick

Oh no well I
been there before
and I ain’t a comin back around
there no more
no I’m not

hung up waitin’ for a windy day
Hung up waitin for a windy day
Tear down the Fillmore,
Gas the Avalon

Ridin down the river in an old canoe
a bunch of bugs and an old tennis shoe
out of the river all ugly and green
the biggest old alligator that I’ve ever seen
teeth big and pointed and his eyes were buggin out
contact the union, put the beggars to route
screamin and yellin and lickin his chops
he never runs he just stumbles and hops
just out of prison on six dollars bail
mumblin at bitches and waggin his tail

Alligator runnin round my door (4x)

Alligator creepin round the corner of my cabin door
He’s comin round to bother me some more