Bugeye Jim

If I get up and let you in,
I lose my house and my home again;
If I get up and try to come,
I get sent back to the land I’m from.

The cloud came low and the rain did pour;
I hear your hand touch on my door;
The rain has quit and the light of the moon
Shows you standing in my room.

Bugeye Jim, I can’t come;
I can twist and turn, but I can’t come,
I can ache and I can burn, but I can’t come.
I woke up this morning with an aching brain;
Hear you tap on my window pane.

I look at you with a heavy head;
I hear you sit down on my bed;
The storm gets worse and my heart feels bare;
I feel your fingers comb my hair.

The mud it runs and the waters rise;
I feel your hotkiss on my eyes;
The rain it rained and the world did stir;
I sing to you my lovesick word.

Billy Bragg: resonator guitar, vocal
Words: Woody Guthrie (1946) | Music: Billy Bragg

When the Roses Bloom Again

They were strolling in the gloaming
Through the roses were in bloom,
A soldier and his sweetheart brave and true;
And their hearts were filled with sorrow
For their thoughts were of tomorrow,
As she pinned a rose upon his coat of blue.

Do not ask me, Love, to linger
For you know not what to say,
For Duty calls your Sweetheart’s name again;
And your heart need not be sighing
If I be among the dying;
I’ll be with you when the Roses bloom again.

When the Roses Bloom again beside the River,
And the mockingbird has sung his sweet refrain;
In the Days of Auld Lang Syne,
I’ll be with you Sweetheart mine,
I’ll be with you when the Roses bloom again.

With the rattle of the battle
Came a whisper soft and low,
A soldier who had fallen in the fray;
I am dying, I am dying, and I know I have to go,
But I want to tell you before I pass away:

There’s a far and distant river
When the Roses are in bloom
A sweetheart who is waiting there for me.
And it’s there I pray you take me
I’ve been faithful, don’t forsake me,
I’ll be with her when the Roses bloom again!

Words: Will D. Cobb (1901) | Music: Jeff Tweedy
Jay Bennett: keyboards
Billy Bragg: guitar
Ken Coomer: drums
Bob Egan: pedal steel guitar
Corey Harris: lap steel
John Stirratt: bass

Gotta Work

I gotta work
Or go nuts
I gotta work
Or go nuts
I gotta work
I gotta work
I gotta work
Or go nuts

I get dangerous
If I don’t work
I get mean
If I don’t work
I go screwball
I go loco
I go crazy
If I don’t work

Hurt people
If I don’t work
Kill people
If I go nuts
Hit people
Scratch people
Bite people
If I go nuts

I gotta work
I gotta work
I gotta work
Or go nuts
I go screwball
I go loco
I go crazy
If I don’t work
Hit people
Scratch people
Bite people
If I go nuts

Corey Harris: acoustic guitar, vocal
Jeff Tweedy: acoustic guitar

My Thirty Thousand

Paul Robeson he’s the man
That faced the Ku Klux Klan
On hollow grove’s golfing ground
His words come sounding!
And all around him there
To jump and clap and cheer
I sent the best, the best I had
My thirty thousand

The Klansman leader said
That Paul would lose his head
When thirty five thousand vets
Broke up that concert.
But less than four thousand came
To side with the Klan!
But around Paul’s lonesome oak
(My thirty thousand).

A beersoaked brassy band
Did snortle around the grounds
Four hundred noblest souls
(Westchester’s manhood)!
They looked exactly like
Fleas on a tiger’s back;
Lost fish in the waters of
My thirty thousand!

When Paul had sung and gone
And the kids and babies home
Cops came with guns and clubs
And clubbed and beat them!
I’d hate to be a cop
Caught with a bloody stick,
('Cause you can’t bash the brains out
of thirty thousand)!

Each eye you tried to gouge,
Each skull you tried to crack,
Has a thousand thousand friends
Around this green grass!
If you furnish the skull someday
I'll pass out the clubs and guns
To the billion hands that love
My thirty thousand!

Each wrinkle on your face
I know it at a glance,
You cannot run and hide
Nor duck nor dodge them.
And your carcass and your deeds
Will fertilize the seeds
Of the men that stood to guard
My thirty thousand!

Words: Woody Guthrie (1949) | Music: Billy Bragg
Jay Bennett: banjo, melodica, backing vocal
Billy Bragg: guitar, vocal
Eliza Carthy: violin
Ken Coomer: drums
Ben Ivitsky: viola
John Stirratt: bass

Ought to Be Satisfied Now

You jacked me up and you run me down 
You nagged at me and you bawled me out 
You made me leave town and I'm Frisco bound 
You'd ought to be satisfied now.

You took my silver you took my gold
You made me believe in every lie that you told 
You left me a standing out there in the cold 
You'd ought to be satisfied now.

You went around with whoever you pleased 
I stood in the rain in my B.V.D.'s 
There was times when I thought I’d freeze 
You'd ought to be satisfied now.

You got a new lover richer than me 
You got you a car and a boat on the sea 
You spend all my money to go out on a spree 
You'd ought to be satisfied now.

I'm down in this gutter I'm hungry, I'm cold, 
You're drinking and gambling and wasting our dough 
You won’t even pay back that money you owe
You'd ought to be satisfied now.

Once I had a fortune that you took away, 
A hundred cold dollars you spent every day
Tonight I'm a bum on a Frisco train
You'd ought to be satisfied now.

Words: Woody Guthrie (1939) | Music: Billy Bragg
Billy Bragg: electric guitar, vocal

Listening to the Wind That Blows

There’s a girl as she sleeping
Sleeping in her sweet repose
I’m her broken hearted sweetheart
Listening to that wind that blows.

When my good friends gather around me
Where my graveyard flowers grow
In my grave I be there sleeping
Listening to that wind that blows.

Blow, wind, blow, long low and lonesome
Blow, wind, blow, where no heart knows,
I’m your lonesome hearted listener
Listening to that lonesome wind that blows.

On those ocean sands I wandered
Where those whitecap breakers roll
I walked along the beach at midnight
Listening to that wind that blows.

In this great and crowded city
Where the silver dollar flows
Many’s the broken hearted sweetheart
Listening to that wind that blows.

Blow, wind, blow, long low and lonesome
Blow, wind, blow, where no heart knows,
I’m your lonesome hearted listener
Listening to that lonesome wind that blows.

I dreamt last night we lay together
Arm in arm we took a stroll
I woke up and the sky was cloudy
Listening to that wind that blows.

Has it come your time to leave me?
Has it come your time to go?
Always, dear, I’ll be here waiting,
Listening to that wind that blows.

Words: Woody Guthrie (1939) | Music: Jeff Tweedy 
Jay Bennett: keyboards
Ken Coomer: drums
John Stirratt: bass
Jeff Tweedy: guitar, vocal

Go Down to the Water

Go down to the water where oil floats by
Drop your hair down and cry
And write with your finger in the sand
Mail it out with the tide.
Mail it out with the high and the low
Watch the marks in the sand
Listen to the fog on the homeless waves
And feel the salt sea in your hands.

Smell that sea wind, taste on your lips
That foam that rolls over my lost ships
And write your letter once more in the sand
Where the breaker dips and our undertow slips.
Kneel down and feel the water’s edge
Write our names side by side
And look and listen to all those ships
That toss in the fog and in the tides.

Let down your hair when you kneel down there
Let me be the wind that pulls your hair
And you be the man you made out of sand
And let your hands keep making him there.
When nobody is looking kiss your hand
And touch to the nose of your man in the sand
Then lay down with your head on his chest
Be nice, be nice to your man on the sand.

Words: Woody Guthrie (1945) | Music: Billy Bragg 
Billy Bragg: tenor banjo, vocal
Eliza Carthy: violin

Chain of Broken Hearts

This world looks like a chain
Of heavy broken hearts . . .
It chains my brothers and sisters all apart
Link after link
It clatters thru my land
This long heavy chain of broken hearts.

Selfish pride is one link in this chain
And you better drive it out of your heart –
Brother – sister when you do it’s then that you’ll get loose
From this long heavy chain of broken hearts.

It’s this long heavy chain of broken hearts
It’s this long heavy chain of broken hearts
You gotta find your union before you can get free
From this long heavy chain of broken hearts.

Fear is a link in this chain
Of sorrow and trouble and pain . . .
Drive out your fear and you will break apart
This long heavy chain of broken hearts.

Jealousy is a link of the worst
A worry, a blister and a curse . . .
Join our union band and break with your hands
This long heavy chain of broken hearts.

It’s this long heavy chain of broken hearts
It’s this long heavy chain of broken hearts
You gotta find your union before you can get free
From this long heavy chain of broken hearts.

It’s when you are free from this chain
Love will come and filled you up again
Show your friends and neighbors how to break away
From this long heavy chain of broken hearts.

It’s this long heavy chain of broken hearts
It’s this long heavy chain of broken hearts
You gotta find your union before you can get free
From this long heavy chain of broken hearts.

Words: Woody Guthrie (1939) | Music: Jeff Tweedy 
Jay Bennett: mandolin, banjo, harmonica
Ken Coomer: percussion
Jeff Tweedy: acoustic guitar, vocal

Jailcell Blues

Mailman walkin by my cell
Mailman walkin by my cell
It’s when you don’t bring me no news
That’s the time when I sing my jailcell blues
That’s the time when I sing my jailcell blues.

When you walk y’r mailpouch
When you walk y’r mailpouch
By me with not one word fr’m you
That’s the time that I’ll weep my jailcell blues
That’s the time that I’ll weep my jailcell blues.

Little leather bag goes by me
Little leather bag goes by me
Not one little peep from you
Only time I cry my jailcell blues
Only time I cry my jailcell blues.

Words: Woody Guthrie (1953) | Music: Billy Bragg
Jay Bennett: acoustic guitar
Billy Bragg: acoustic guitar, vocal
Ken Coomer: drums
John Stirratt: bass
Jeff Tweedy: acoustic guitar

Don't You Marry

Baby, don’t you marry no farming man
Put a rake and a shovel right in your hand
Don’t you marry no railroad man
When you want him he won’t be on hand.

So don’t go marrying no business man
Got too much monkey business on his hands
Don’t go marry no jellybean man
Got too many women on his hands.

Just take me back
Baby won’t you take me back
I won’t do one little thing
That you don’t like.

O’ don’t you marry no banker man
He’ll take all your money from your hand
No, don’t you marry no finance man
He’ll slap a big mortgage right in your hand.

Just take me back
Baby won’t you take me back
I won’t do one little thing
That you don’t like.

Don’t you marry no travelin’ man
Always bummin’ off round in foreign lands
Don’t you marry no singer man
He’s the brokest feller in the band.

Just take me back
Baby won’t you take me back
I won’t do one little thing
That you don’t like.

Don’t marry no soldier nor sailor man
Always sailing off and drinking in a distant land
Don’t marry yourself no mariner man
Put the invasion barge right in your hands

Words: Woody Guthrie | Music: Billy Bragg 
Billy Bragg: resonator guitar, vocal

Give Me a Nail

Give me a nail and I’ll nail it;
Give me a ship and I’ll sail it;
Give me a bugle and I’ll toot it;
Give me a gun and I’ll shoot it!

Give me the work and I’ll do it;
Give me the stew and I’ll stew it;
Give me the bell and I’ll ring it;
Give me the song and I’ll sing it!

Give me the words and I’ll talk ’em;
Give me the miles an’ I’ll walk ’em;
Give me the crop and I’ll grow it;
Give a row and I’ll hoe it!

Give me a life and I’ll live it;
Give me a life and I’ll give it;
Give me a war and I’m in it;
Give me a world and I’ll win it!

Words: Woody Guthrie (1943) | Music: Billy Bragg
Jay Bennett: piano, keyboards
Billy Bragg: electric guitar, vocal
Ken Coomer: drums, tambourine, whistle
Corey Harris: lap steel guitar
John Stirratt: bass
Jeff Tweedy: acoustic guitar, 12-string electric guitar

The Jolly Banker

My name is Tom Cranker and I'm a jolly banker, 
I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.
I safeguard the farmers and widows and orphans, 
Singin' I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.

When dust storms are sailing, and crops they are failing,
I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.
I check up your shortage and bring down your mortgage,
Singin' I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.

When money you're needing, and mouths you are feeding,
I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.
I'll plaster your home with a furniture loan,
Singin' I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.

If you show me you need it, I'll let you have credit,
I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.
Just bring me back two for the one I lend you,
Singin' I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.

When your car you're losin', and sadly your cruisin',
I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.
I'll come and foreclose, get your car and your clothes,
Singin' I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.

When the bugs get your cotton, the times they are rotten,
I'm jolly banker, jolly banker am I.
I'll come down and help you, I'll rake you and scalp you,
Singin' I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.

When the landlords abuse you, or sadly misuse you,
I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.
I'll send down the police chief to keep you from mischief,
Singin' I'm a jolly banker, jolly banker am I.

Words and Music: Woody Guthrie 
Jeff Tweedy: acoustic guitar, vocals
John Stirratt: bass guitar
Glenn Kotche: drums, percussion (Jim Scott's cash and garden tools)
Mikael Jorgensen: Hammond B3, Leslie cab
Nels Cline: lap steel
Patrick Sansone: harpsichord
Leslie Feist: a garden tool

Union Prayer

I hear that prayer and praying
Will change this world around
I fold my hands I bow my head
I kneel down on the ground.

I prayed and prayed by nite & day
And then I prayed some more
I prayed till my tongue was dry as dust
I prayed till my knees had sores.

Will prayer change shacks to decent homes?
Will prayer change sickness into health?
Will prayer change hate to works of love?
Will prayer get me my right to vote?

Will prayer give jobs at honest pay?
Will prayer bring stomach full of food?
Will prayer make rich treat poor folks right?
Will prayer take out the Ku Klux Klan?

Will prayer cut down the hoodlum bands?
Will prayer stop the lynchbug hands?
If all of these things my prayers can do,
I’ll pray till I am black and blue.

If prayer will bring us union love,
I’ll pray and pray and pray some more.
I’ll pray all day from door to door
And fall at nite to pray some more
My prayer with a union label.

Words: Woody Guthrie (1949) | Music: Billy Bragg 
Billy Bragg: tenor banjo, vocal
Eliza Carthy: violin
Ben Ivitsky: viola

Be Kind to the Boy on the Road

Who is that boy on the white winding highway?
Why does he roam alone?
Is he looking for life on that white winding highway?
For his parents dealt him trouble at home.

You might think he’s wrong standing there on that highway
O’ what a foolish young lad!
But you yourself might be standing on that highway
If you’d had his troubles on your hands.

Don’t point your finger at that boy on the highway
As you travel down this road!
Either give him your help or pass him with kindness
Cause he’s got all the trouble that he wants!

Your policeman discourages that boy on the highway
It's hard everywhere that he goes!
But the best way to help that boy on the highway
Is to fix all your troubles there at home!

I've heard it said ‘bout rolling stone boys
They gather no moss in their life?
I'll tell you the bee that gets the honey
Ain't the bee that hangs around the hive!

Oh be kind to that boy on that white winding highway
As you travel on there alone
Remember the men that wrote your Bible
Are the men who gave up their homes!

Words: Woody Guthrie | Music: Billy Bragg
Jay Bennett: organ
Billy Bragg: electric guitar, vocal
Ken Coomer: drums
John Stirratt: bass
Jeff Tweedy: electric guitar

Ain'ta Gonna Grieve

I long to fly away to Heaven
Pass beyond that shining door
See my master and my savior
High away to Heaven soar

I have made myself my promise
Never again to grieve my lord
I will live his gospel story
Sweetest story ever told

Ain’ta gonna grieve my lord no more
Ain’ta gonna grieve my lord no more
Ain’ta gonna grieve my lord any more, not any more

Guess I’ve lived my life in blindness
I have lived a life of wrong
Now my heart runs full with gladness
Singing out my gospel song

Many a faith’s too easy shaken
Many a heart too full of fear
Many an eye is too mistaken
Grievous to my savior dear

Ain’ta gonna grieve my lord no more
Ain’ta gonna grieve my lord no more
Ain’ta gonna grieve my lord any more, not any more

Make today this golden promise
Make this vow forever more
Live the story and the glory
Dwell in peace forever more

Make today this one agreement
Change my thoughts from greed to love
Enter soft into my chamber
Pray for light to show me through

Ain’ta gonna grieve my lord no more
Ain’ta gonna grieve my lord no more
Ain’ta gonna grieve my lord any more, not any more

Words: Woody Guthrie | Music: Jeff Tweedy / Jay Bennett 
Jay Bennett: piano, Hammond B3, Farisa bass pedals
Billy Bragg: mandolin
Ken Coomer: drums
Corey Harris: guitar
John Stirratt: bass
Jeff Tweedy: acoustic guitar, lead electric guitar, vocal

Tea Bag Blues

Well, it’s awful cold outside
I’m cold at home tonight
Walkin up an’ down by my poor self
God you know this just ain’t right
Gonna boil myself a tea bag
Gonna boil myself a tea bag
And if you moze over my way
I will boil you off a tea bag, too.

Well I’ve come from Oklahoma
Where the dust and gravel blow
I’ve got gals with booseleg rotgut
But man I never did learn to know
Just how to boil me off a tea bag
How to simmer up a tea bag
And if you’ll ease over my way
I will boil you off a tea bag, too.

I rode the trains and the busses
I rode the rods I rode the blinds
Hit every kind of bag and satchel
I used every bait I could find
Never did think about no tea bag
Never did see no tea bag
But if you’ll ooze over closer
Yes, I’ll boil you off a tea bag, too.

I’ve used beer, and wine, and coffee,
Buttermilk, sodie, and rum,
And I’ve rolled them every color
Seen them go before they come
Learnin’ how to use a tea bag
How to dip a tea bag
Babe, if you’ll sneak over my way
I’m gonna strain your little tea bag, too.

Learnin’ how to dip my tea bag
How to soak up my tea bag
And I’m up north in New York City
Singin’ my lonesome tea bag blues.

Words: Woody Guthrie | Music: Corey Harris 
Billy Bragg: backing vocal
Corey Harris: acoustic guitar, vocal

I'm Out to Get

I’m out to get your greenback dollar
I’m out to get your silver change
I’m out to get your long black limo
You kept me down on my knees too long.

Now my daddy before me worked like I work
He was worked to death forty years or so
My mammy she died from grieving over him
How old she was I never did know.

I’m out to get your greenback dollar
I’m out to get your silver change
I’m out to get your long black limo
You kept me down on my knees too long.

Now the building you own you won at gambling
On dice and horses and ticker-tape machines
But that’s no sign that you are smarter than I am
I’m going to show you just what I mean.

I’m out to get your easy money
I’m out to get my share of your gold
I’m out to get my whiskey and women
I’m going to get back my life you stole.

We went to the judge and I talked with the tenants
We told him we had no hot water in the sink
He spent a half an hour upon his bench there
To tell us what a fine reputation our landlord’s got.

But I’m out to get your long green tender
I’m out to get your round town car
I’m out to fight and win a good job and wages
And a six room twin bed flat with a built in bar.

We told that judge how you played the horses
How you won this apartment building here
How you took our money and headed to Florida
To lay in the sun with women while we freeze here.

So, I’m out to get your excess bacon
I’m out to get my cut from you
I’m going to walk and talk and tell all my neighbors
How they ought to talk right up for their cut too.

It won’t be with no gun nor gambling wheel sir
That I will use to relieve you of your till
It will be in a nice friendly way with all my neighbors
Smelling and barking brother up and down your hill.

And you can’t hide along no oceans
And you can’t hide in no desert for long
We’re out to get back every penny that you won gambling
Because we can’t live, landlord, on a race horse song.

Words: Woody Guthrie (1946) | Music: Billy Bragg 
Jay Bennett: banjo, high-strung Epiphone guitar, mandolin
Billy Bragg: electric guitar, vocal
Ken Coomer: small drum drums
Corey Harris: electric guitar
John Stirratt: bass
Jeff Tweedy: acoustic guitar