The Countertop Chronicles

Getting ready for shotgunning season around here. Doves and Resident Goose open up Labor Day weekend, Teal is September 15. Dogs back down to training this week for a month, while I’ll be stepping up the skeet shooting in preparation.

This was played once, in an acoustic set on 12 July 1970, and is also on Pigpen’s “home tapes” (which is where the lyrics below are taken from).

Bring Me My Shotgun
Words and Music by Lightnin’ Hopkins

Go, bring me my shotgun, bring me back some shells
Why don’t you just bring me my shotgun
Bring me back about a pocket full of shells
Well you know if I don’t get myself a little competition
You know there’s gonna be some trouble ’round here

Well you know my mama told me, when I left my door
She said, “you gonna have bad luck, son, don’t care where you go”
So why don’t you bring me my shotgun
Bring me back a pocket full of shells
Well you know if I don’t get myself a little competition
You know there’s gonna be some trouble ’round here

Early in the morning when the sun gonna rise
She’s laying there rolling them old bloodshot eyes
In the morning bring me my shotgun
Well, I can stand any mess for a while
But I can’t stand it for very long

Woke up this morning
Found out some [jack strap?] had gone took my room
Woke up this morning
Found out some [jack strap?] had gone took my room
Yeah you know he took along with it my woman
That [jack strap?] going to meet his doom

That’s why I say bring me my shotgun, boy
I want you to bring me back some shells
I said why don’t you bring me my shotgun
Bring me back a pocket full of shells
You know if I don’t get myself some good competition
There’s gonna be some trouble ’round her

Yeah, no Dead today.

We ended up going to the Greek Taverna in McLean for Dinner Saturday night. The Greek Taverna is in the same building as Ocean M, where VCDL held one of their Saslaw Open Carry dinners. It also has a great picture - which they recently placed in a more promonient position - of armed Greek freedom fighters. We pulled into the parking lot there and saw a Maserati.

Whats the connection between guns and Maseratis?

Ted Nugent - with a face like a Maserati.

Wango Tango
Words and Music by Ted Nugent

All right! It’s zee Wango, zee Tango
1-2-3-4
Come on boys
Time to Wango

My baby she like to rock
My baby she like to roll
My baby she can dance all night
My baby got no control
She do the Wango Tango

My baby she can scream and shout
My baby she can move it out
My baby she can take a chance
My baby got a brand new dance

Wango Tango
Wango Tango
It’s a Wango Tango
Ooooh yeah! (oooooh..)
Baby!

My baby like to rock
My baby like to roll
My baby like to dance all night
She got no control
She do…

Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Ooooh yeah! (oooooh..)

Yeahhhhhhhhhh!
Baby! Baby! Baby! Ooooh I like the way you look baby
You look like you’re made for me honey
If you wanna take a little chance
I’m gonna show you a new dance
Baby I gotta Wango down one time with you honey
I like it, I like it, I like it, I like it, I like it
Well, it’s a brand new dance
Yeah been sweepin’ the nation
I said a brand new dance
A rock ‘n’ roll sensation
Yeah I like it baby, I do it every night
I got to do it ‘cos I like it so much
Oh honey believe it baby
You see it’s a crazed gyration of the rock generation
It’s my motivation to avoid the nauseation, frustration
When I need some lubrication - Baby!
Kinda like, goes kinda like this
You take her right ankle out
You take her left ankle out
You get her belly propped down
You get her butt propped up
Yeah lookin’ good now baby
I think you’re in the right position now baby
Yeah but if you ain’t quite ready I’ll make sure everything is a little bit nicer ‘cos
I’m gonna get a little talcum
I’m gonna borrow it from Malcolm
Yeah you look so good baby I’m startin to drool all over myself
I got the droolin’, droolin’, get all wet, salivate, salivate
I got salivate late, salivate late, salivate late
Got salivate, salivate, salivate, salivate, heh heh heh
Yeah you look so good baby, I like it, I like it, I like it
You know what I been talkin’ about honey
It’s a nice dance, we gotta a nice dance goin’ here
Now what you gotta do, I’ll tell you what you gotta do
You got to pretend your face is a Maserati
It’s a Maserati
It’s a Maserati
It’s a gettin’ hotty
It’s a Maserati, Maserati, Maserati
It’s a fast one too man, that thing’s turbocharged
You feel like a little fuel injection honey?
I’ll tell ya about it, I’ll tell you about it
I’ll check out the hood scoop
I gotta get that hood scoop off, shine and shine and buff
I gotta buff it up, buff it up, buff it up, buff it up, buff it up,
Yeah, shiny now baby, heh heh heh
You’ve been drivin’ all night long
It’s time to put the old Maserati away
So you look for a garage, you think you see a garage
Wait a minute, Hey!, there’s one up ahead
And the damn thing’s open
Hello! Get in there!

Is my baby alive? (Is my baby alive?)
Is my baby alive? (Is my baby alive?)
Is my baby alive?
She Wango’d to death

Wango Tango (Wango Tango)
Wango Tango (Wango Tango)
Wango Tango (Wango Tango)
Wango Tango (Wango Tango)
Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Wango Tango
Wango Wango
Tango Tango
Wango Wango Wango Wango
Tango Tango Tango Tango

Here’s a pic, from back when San Francisco was part of America

(yes, thats Pig Pen holding a rifle on the steps of the Dead’s House to 710 Haight, not sure who the guy in front of Jerry is . . . Mickey Hart maybe???)

And here’s a little bit of Cowboy Bob

El Paso
Lyrics by Marty Robbins

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso I fell in love with a Mexican girl.
Nighttime would find me in Rose’s Cantina,
Music would play and Felina would whirl.

Black as the night were the eyes of Felina,
Wicked and evil while casting a spell.
My love was strong for this Mexican maiden,
I was in love, but in vain I could tell.

One night a wild young cowboy came in, wild as the West Texas wind…
Dashing and daring, a drink he was sharing,
With wicked Felina, the girl that I love.

So in anger I challenged his right for the love of this maiden;
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore.
My challenge was answered, in less than a heartbeat
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor.

Just for a moment I stood there in silence,
Shocked by the foul evil deed I had done.
Many thoughts ran through my mind as I stood there;
I had but one chance and that was to run.

Out through the back door of Rose’s I ran, out where the horses were tied…
I picked a good one; he looked like he could run,
Up on his back and away I did ride.

Just as fast as I could from the West Texas town of El Paso,
Out through the badlands of New Mexico.
Back in El Paso my life would be worthless;
Everything’s gone in life nothing is left.

But it’s been so long since I’ve seen the young maiden,
My love is stronger that my fear of death.
I saddled up and away I did go, riding alone in the dark…
Maybe tomorrow a bullet may find me,
Tonight nothing’s worse than this pain in my heart.

And at last here I am on the hill overlooking El Paso,
I can see Rose’s Cantina below.
My love is strong and it pushes me onward, down off the hill to Felina I go.

Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys,
Off to my left ride a dozen or more.
shouting and shooting; I can’t let them catch me,
I’ve got to make it to Rose’s back door.

Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel a deep burning pain in my side
It’s getting harder to stay in the saddle.
I’m getting weary, unable to ride.

But my love for Felina is strong and I rise where I’ve fallen;
Though I am weary, I can’t stop to rest.
I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle,
I feel the bullet go deep in my chest.

From out of nowhere, Felina has found me,
Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side.
Cradled by two loving arms that I’ll die for,
One little kiss and Felina good-bye.

From the late 80s . . . .

When Push Comes to Shove
Words by Robert Hunter

Shaking in the desert, wherefore do you cry?
Here there may be rattlesnakes to punch you in the eye
Shotguns full of silver, bullets made of glass,
String barbed wire at your feet and do not let you pass
When Push Comes To Shove, you’re afraid of love

When Push Comes To Shove
When Push Comes To Shove
You’re afraid of love
When Push Comes To Shove

Shaking in the bedroom, covers on your head
Cringing like a baby at the hand beneath the bed
Phantom in the closet, scratching at the door
The latest mystery killer that you saw on channel four
When Push Comes To Shove, you’re afraid of love

Shaking in the garden, the fear within you grows
Here there may be roses to punch you in the nose
Twist their arms around you, slap you till you cry,
Wrap you in their sweet perfume and love you till you die
When Push Comes To Shove, you’re afraid of love

When Push Comes To Shove
When Push Comes To Shove
You’re afraid of love
When Push Comes To Shove

Another Weird Tune

Greatest Story Ever Told
Lyrics by Robert Hunter; Music by Bob Weir

Moses came riding up on a guitar
His spurs were a-jingling, the door was ajar
His buckle was silver, his manner was bold
I asked him to come on in out of the cold
His brain was boiling, his reason was spent
He said if nothing was borrowed then nothing was lent
I asked him for mercy, he gave me a gun
Said Now n’again these things just got to be done

Abraham and Isaac
sitting on a fence
You’d get right to work
if you had any sense
Y’know the one thing we need
is a left-hand monkey wrench

Gideon come in with his eyes on the floor
Says: Y’ain’t got a hinge, you can’t close the door
Moses stood up a full six foot ten
Says: You can’t close the door when the wall’s caved in
I asked him for water, he poured me some wine
We finished the bottle then broke into mine
You get what you come for, you’re ready to go
It’s one in ten thousand just come for the show

Abraham and Isaac
Digging on a well
Mama come quick
with the water witch spell
Cool clear water
where you can’t never tell

where we continue to explore the role of firearms within the music of the Dead

Stagger Lee
Lyrics by Robert Hunter

1940 Xmas evening with a full moon over town
Staggerlee met Billy DeLyon
and he blew that poor boy down
Do you know what he shot him for?
What do you make of that?
‘Cause Billy DeLyon threw lucky dice,
won Staggelee’s Stetson hat

Baio, Baio, tell me how can this be?
You arrest the girls for turning tricks
but you’re scared of Staggerlee
Staggerlee is a madman and he shot my Billy dead
Baio you go get him or give the job to me

Delia DeLyon, dear sweet Delia-D
How the hell can I arrest him when he’s twice as big as me?
Don’t ask me to go downtown - I wouldn’t come back alive
Not only is that mother big but he packs a .45

Baio Delia said just give me a gun
He shot my Billy dead now I’m gonna see him hung
She waded to DeLyon’s Club through Billy DeLyon’s blood
Stepped up to Staggerlee at the bar
Said Buy me a gin fizz, love

As Staggerlee lit a cigarette she shot him in the balls
Blew the smoke off her revolver, had him dragged to city hall
Baio, Baio, see you hang him high
He shot my Billy dead and now he’s got to die

Delia went a walking down on Singapore Street
A three-piece band on the corner played “Nearer, My God, to Thee”
but Delia whistled a different tune…what tune could it be?

The song that woman sung was Look out Staggerlee
The song that Delia sung was Look out Staggerlee
The song that woman sung was Look out Staggerlee
The song that Delia sung was Look out Staggerlee

Video is from the ‘93 spring tour, Chapel Hill. North Carolina was always home to great shows, and even though they were in the downward spiral at this point, they do not disappoint.

For years, in response to Juan Non Volokh’s (now Jonathan Alder) Sunday Song Lyric, I’ve presented an on and off Monday Song Lyric.

Well, I really enjoy that. But I also enjoy guns. And the Grateful Dead. A lot. So I figured, what better way than to combine all of them and present you Grateful Dead lyrics that involve guns and there are a ton - which isn’t surprising considering they are more than just mere hippies, but rather astute chroniclers of the American experience.

I sort of like this description

I have several friends who refer to the Grateful Dead as the best “American band of all time.” Not necessarily the best band that happened to come from America, but the best band to take America’s roots music: bluegrass, the blues, jazz, appalachian folk-songs and distill it into a wild and beautiful psychedelic mess. I happen to agree with them.

Today’s first installment -

Loser
Lyrics by Robert Hunter

If I had a gun for every ace I’ve drawn
I could arm a town the size of Abilene
Don’t you push me baby cause I’m moaning low
You know I’m only in it for the gold

All that I am asking for is ten gold dollars
I could pay you back with one good hand
You can look around about the wide world over
You’ll never find another honest man

Last fair deal in the country, sweet Suzy
Last fair deal in the town
Put your gold money where your love is, baby
Before you let my deal go down

Don’t you push me baby
because I’m moaning low
I know a little something
you won’t ever know
Don’t you touch hard liquor just
a cup of cold coffee
Gonna get up
in the morning and go

Everybody’s bragging and drinking that wine
I can tell the Queen of Diamonds by the way she shine
Come to Daddy on an inside straight
I got no chance of losing this time
No, I got no chance of losing this time

Dosed or not, that’s there is just gorgeous.