Being buried ain’t so bad
It ain’t like I’m really dead
Just a bunch of nothing left to do
Pushing up real estate
Laying like a head of state
When nobody’s left to visit you
But Sunday night was quite a shock
Just before nine o’clock
Sea walls and the river levy blew
Flooding my sarcophagus
Leaving all the crypts a mess
And blowing off the mausoleum roof
When Hurricane Ivan blew in the island
We were all flying on a hurricane wind
Ghosts like to party, screaming like banshee
And we’re never going back
To the graveyard again
I thought it was the judgment day
Called for Jesus right away
Look the other way and let me through
Just a life of petty crime
I took yours and you took mine
Now everybody’s gonna get their due
Then the ghost of Angeline
Such a sight I’ve never seen
Flying like a sheet up in the wind
Pulled me up to her side
Flew so high, I thought I die
But nothing’s gonna kill me again
Chorus
In the prior century
Had thing for Angeline - so fine!
Now we’re just bones and hair
But we don’t really have a care
Flying high, so high
Well, the wind slowed by degrees
We wound up in a tree
Arm and arm, hiding from the light
Hoping for the wind to change
Praying for the driving rain
And hurricane rides in the sky
credits
from Postmark,
released June 1, 2006
Frank Gayer Martin: vocals, slide guitar, mandolin
Randy Utterback: Fiddle
Sue Krehbiel: harmony vocals
Doug Whitney: bass
Paula Valentine: drums
This New Haven duo write bright and emotionally resonant folk music where sweeping strings elevate gorgeous melodies. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 23, 2021
Edd Donovan's day job as a social worker brings a sense of empathy to his elegantly constructed political folk music. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 26, 2019