isla
Welcome to my island,
a drifting piece of mind.
If you’re gonna spend some time,
spend some time...
If you’re gonna stick around
we might fall together.
My feet won’t touch the ground
if you’re gonna stick around.
You always were the wanderer.
You wander ever still.
I’d ride with you to the sunset.
Welcome to my island
on the beach I’ll make a fire.
If I make it right
I could make you mine.
If you’re gonna spend some time,
spend some time
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give chance a chance
Thank you for nothing, but changing my mind.
Cash me in, I'll be 'round again.
Lake in the mountains, desert for miles,
big deal to a friend of mine.
One armed bandits shake 'em down.
Elvis clones in the lounge.
Carnival of quicksilver, roulette revolves,
frenzy of card sharks where the queen falls.
Give chance a chance.
Deal 'em down all around.
Play the odds, bet to win,
give chance a chance.
'Bout Reno, Nevada, she oughta marry you.
Cash me in, I'll be 'round again.
Boomtown casinos from here to the moon,
miles and days for her and me to
give chance a chance.
Deal 'em down all around.
Play the odds, bet to win,
give chance a chance...
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where the late nght crowd is led
Circus lies asleep
beneath the big top.
Factories in the town
have gone to bed.
Freak show down
at the motor bank is over.
Fingers and the faculties are fed.
It's a small town,
it's the lights of New York City,
on the rivers and their eddies,
where the late night crowd is led.
Night club lights,
and the ritual rights
at the boogie bars,
leave you sometimes cool
but most times less amused.
With a nickle spot,
you can lose a lot
of that green denero,
you get low in the hole
and no down card.
As the soldiers of the underground
take partners,
with morning close about
and in the breeze.
Preachers stir,
the loon begins her singing.
And, like sisters,
the subways and the silos wake again.
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ranch land
The cold rain from the mountain
will never reach the ground.
A veil above the ranch land,
a storm that makes no sound.
The soil is powder black
with leaking crankcase oil.
Where the gypsies are the masters
shade is a miracle.
The wind throbs like an engine.
Nothing stands in the way.
Dusting up the ranch land
south of Santa Fe.
From where I stand you can see for miles.
Don’t get too close to me
you might catch my dreams.
The scorpion and me
might be your only friends...
in the sand.
Much better the desert
than to grovel in the bottomland.
Better by the light of the moon, man.
Running with the wind on the ranch land.
From where I stand…
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done that too
I talk that talk ‘cause I walk that walk
and it’s who I am.
I stared into the face of God...
and he blinked.
I bumped my head against the sky
and I’m still standing
If I had ever learned to follow
I’d probably done that too.
So I’ll talk that talk and walk that walk.
Probably never change.
I’ll stare into the face of God...
anytime he wants to.
I’ll lead my pony to the light,
stare into the face of God.
Bump my head against the sky,
whip some angel and some odds.
If I had ever learned to follow
I’d probably done that too.
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gypsy
Took a gypsy like you to make a gypsy like me.
I'll live with what I can't change
till I change what I can't live with.
A gypsy just like you.
In the eyes of your children you will live forever.
They'll live with what they can't change
till they change what they can't live with.
Gypsies just like you.
break
Some kid will come along, six strings on his hip,
following a shooting star. Be careful what you wish for.
He'll live with what he can't change
till he changes what he can't live with....
she'll live with what she can't change
till she changes what she will not...live with.
A gypsy just like you.
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caribbe
I wandered like footprints
down a beach yesterday.
Them swimming their ponies,
me scribbling away.
I dream she's thinking of me,
she means a lot.
I wanna tell somebody
so someone knows, but...
Far as I can see
she's nowhere in sight.
Among these islands
adrift in paradise.
I wish that she wants me.
Wouldn't she look good.
I wanna tell somebody,
If I only could.
Late night long distance
or, so I talk with you that way.
Mornings so foreign
without your smiling face.
I hope she knows I love her.
She means so much.
I wanna tell somebody
so someone knows, but...
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labor of love
I could never put a price on a labor of love,
pouring sweat down me like so many jewels.
People use you just like tissue,
and then throw you away,
disregard this if this seems rather cruel.
I never got directions to fall down on my face.
Though, in hugging floors I've hit me a few.
Then I read me an Enquirer,
it just blew me away.
It's so comforting you're animals, too.
Songs come riding on the cinders
of a house that's on fire
in the minds of people burning that way.
And it's true they see the smoke
that's rising up from the fire
but, there's no one to insist that they stay.
Writers tell you writers are just liars from birth
that could rhyme a thousand words in a day.
If you've doubts of what I tell you
here is one line of truth,
in a week you could be writing this way.
And you would never put a price
on a labor of love,
pouring sweat down you like so many jewels.
They could use you just like tissue
and then throw you away,
you'll forgive them
though they seem rather cruel.
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mr. mudd and mr. gold
Townes Van Zandt
The wicked king of clubs awoke
and it was to his queen he turned.
His lips were laughing as they spoke
and his eyes like bullets burned
the sons upon a gamblin' day.
His queen smiled low and blissfully,
"Let's make some wretched fool to pay",
and plain it was she did agree.
He sent his deuce down into diamond,
his four to heart, and his tray to spades.
Three kings with their legions come and
preparations soon were made.
They voted club the days commander,
gave him an army, face, and number.
All but the outlaw jack of diamonds
and the angels in the sky.
He gave his seven first instruction.
"Spirit me a game of stud."
Stakes unscared by limitations
between a man named Gold
and a man named Mudd.
Club filled Gold with greedy vapors
until his long green eyes did glow,
while Mudd was left with the sizing trembles
watching his hard earned money go.
Flushes fell on Gold like water,
tens they paired and paired again.
But, the angels only flew through heaven
and the diamond jack called no man friend.
The diamond queen saw Mudd's ordeal
and began to think of her long lost son.
She fell to her knees with a mother's mercy
and prayed to the angels every one.
The diamond queen she prayed and prayed
and the diamond angel filled Mudd's hole.
The wicked king of clubs himself
fell face down in front of Gold.
Three kings come to clubs command,
but the angels in the sky did ride.
Three kings up on the streets of Gold.
Three fireballs on the muddy side.
Mudd, he checked and Gold bet all.
Mudd, he raised and Gold did call.
The smile just melted off his face
when ol' Mudd turned over that diamond ace.
Now, this is what this story's told, if you feel like mud you'll end up gold.
If you feel like lost you'll end up found, so amigos lay them raises down.
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even cowboys get the blues
I was standing here
several years ago,
staring at you people
and wondering how your lives
would wend around, aground, again.
Considering my youthful bent,
I did not know you then.
Blue pacific ocean,
a woman and a dream.
Snowfall and the rodeo.
Above the clouds,
among the trees,
beyond this world at hand.
She called me friend and lover both,
I tried to understand.
You were coy through playful joy
while I was badly bruised.
But that's alright,
I'm always the last to get the news.
From all of me to all of you
it's all to admit the truth.
Even cowboys get the blues.
goodnight lullaby
Glass of wine,
small change.
Corner seat,
candlelight.
He kissed the girl,
the waiter came,
goodnight, goodnight.
He strikes the match,
she blows the flame.
It lights the frost
along the window.
He's the pawn
in the game,
she can take him anywhere.
He stays the day,
he stays the night.
She takes him out,
she takes him home.
He took her once the other day
in a message by the phone.
It said, "Glass of wine,
small change.
Corner seat
on the aisle.
I caught the bus,
I missed the plane,
goodnight, goodnight.
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PRODUCED BY CAM KING
The Players
Vince Bell: - Pawless v2 Model Mesquite Dreadnought Acoustic Guitar and Vocals
Bill Browder - Piano and Acoustic Guitar
Cam King - Electric Guitar, Electric Bass, Keyboards, Autoharp, Harmonica, Percussion
Freddie Steady Krc - Percussion
Tammy Rogers - Fiddle and Mandolin
(Courtesy of Dead Reckoning Records)
Michael Woody - Mandolin
Much gratitude to Lori Singer and Layton DePenning for their musical talent.
The Recording Locations
The Real Deal, Santa Fe, NM
DynaMike Studios, Nashville, TN
Bowie Street Recorders, Fredericksburg, TX
Elmo's Lab, Manchaca, TX
SteadyGo Recording, Austin, TX
Mixing and Mastering by
Cam "El Mixador" King and Layton DePenning
at Elmo's Lab, Manchaca, TX
EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS
SARAH WRIGHTSON AND VINCE BELL
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Isla
Ranch Land
Done That Too
Gypsy
Written by Vince Bell
Vince Bell Publishing (SESAC)
Administered by Bug Music
Give Chance A Chance
Caribbe
Written by Vince Bell
Bug Music (BMI)/
Vince Bell Publishing (SESAC)
Administered by Bug Music
Where The Late Night Crowd Is Led
Labor of Love
Even Cowboys Get The Blues
Goodnight Lullaby
Written by Vince Bell
Bug Music (BMI)/
Black Coffee Music (BMI)
Administered by Bug Music
Mr. Mudd and Mr. Gold
Written By Townes Van Zandt
TVZ Music (ASCAP)/
Katie Belle Music (ASCAP)/
Will Van Zandt Publishing (ASCAP)
Administered by Bug Music
Art Direction and Design:
Jason Poole, Get Type, Santa Fe, NM
Front and Back Cover Art:
Used with Permission of
the Peter Hurd Estate
Photography:
All photographs by David Byboth,
except p.3 booklet by Cam King.
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(coming soon)
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