John McCutcheon
What Itʼs Like

One of the premier voices in folk music today offers a collection of original songs that explore the lives and situations of working people everywhere: the farmers, plumbers, steel workers and fishing people who are the unacknowledged backbone of society. John gets assistance from an all-star crew of musicians, including Pete Kennedy and Mary Chapin Carpenter.

"Plaintive folk songs—about factory layoffs, lovers and landowners, union men and farming folk—from John McCutcheon, a Virginia-based troubadour." —Philadelphia Inquirer

Personnel

John McCutcheon, hammer dulcimer, banjo, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, vocals / Bobby Read, piano, saxophones, synthesizers / Pete Kennedy, acoustic guitar, electric guitars, mandolin / John Previti, acoustic bass, electric bass / Tom Jones, drums, percussion / Mary Chapin Carpenter, harmony vocals / Ysaye Barwell, harmony vocals / Anne Louise White, harmony vocals / Terry Leonino, harmony vocals / Greg Artzner, harmony vocals / Timothy Britton, uillean pipes, whistles /Eileen Ivers, fiddle / John Jennings, electric guitar

Formats

Compact Disk: Rounder CD:011661027121 Cassette: Rounder CS:011661027145

Produced by Paul Reisler and John McCutcheon
Year Released: 1990

Lyrics

Cup of Coffee
©1989 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs ASCAP.

Standing barefoot in the darkness, one hand upon the door
I turn to look just one last time, like a thousand times before
To where you're sleeping there without me, your breasts rise and gently fall
Then I turn and slip so silent to the hall

CHORUS:

It's a cup of coffee down the road
A heavy heart and a heavy load
The lines, the lights, the red-eyed nights
The troubles I can't lose
Just pulling loads and pulling time
In younger days would suit me fine
But now the aches, the age, the burning rage
Lie smoldering like a fuse

I remember at the union hall, back at Christmas '63
How I lied that I could waltz just to hold you close to me
It was "Midnight on the Waters" and daylight in your arms
Now, 25 years later, I'm still a prisoner of your charms

CHORUS

Voices on the radio, only help me pass the time
They got foolish cares I pray I'll never know
At some roadside phonebooth I fumble my last dime
I got eighteen wheels and a thousand miles to go

Now your hair is spun to silver and mine is nearly gone
And the children that I hardly know are grown up and moved on
Out here it's so damn lonesome that I don't know what to do
My heart stretched like a highway home to you

CHORUS

Know When to Move
©1987 by John McCutcheon. Published by Appalsongs (ASCAP).

I remember when I was a little kid meeting Daddy 'neath the 3-M lights
And I'd ride home on his shoulders through those hot New Jersey nights
And he always told when I got old that I would work there too
Now twenty years on the line and in two weeks time they're telling me I am through

Now, you don't have to tell me that times are bad and there's trouble all around
And I'm glad my Daddy never lived to see what's happening to this town
But I turned on the news just this morning and it gave me chills to see
Some 3-M workers in South Africa walking off their jobs for me

CHORUS:

You go to know when to move
You go to know when to stand
You got to know when to follow
When to take command
Well, you gotta know how to recognize
Your story when you hear it
From just the other side of the railroad tracks
Or an ocean away from here

Now, I've never been much for politics and I've kept my nose real clean
But, you know, that just this morning I've been changed by what I've seen
'Cause the people in the next town over don't seem to give a damn
While some folks living off in slavery risk their lives to take my stand

CHORUS

From the graveyards in Soweto to the Freehold chimney stacks
There's chains upon the factory gates and there's chains upon the backs
And ain't it strange how people change when they find they're not alone
It'll make you strong just to hear your song ten thousand miles from home

CHORUS

One Man's Trash
©1988 by John McCutcheon. Published by Appalsongs (ASCAP).

Well, I was twelve years old, just a wild young buck
When Daddy gave me a foal from the old brood mare
And with a spring full of training and a summer full of luck
We won every race at the county fair
He used to run like the wind so wild and free
But now he can't pull a plow and she's crippled in the knee
And my Daddy wants to send him to the factory
But he's a whole lot more to me than hoof and hide
And he still loves to take me on a long slow ride

CHORUS

One man's trash is another man's treasure
One man's ceiling is another man's floor
One man's pain is another man's pleasure
And nothing's for certain, mister, that's for sure
No, nothing's for certain, mister, that's for sure

She was singing on the corner so soft and slow
As the crowds pushed by on the avenue
With her old hands gnarled and her back bent low
She played her guitar so clean and true
And one or two would stop if they had a little time
Searching in their pockets for a nickel or a dime
Searching all the faces like she's looking for a sign
And when I dropped six bits in her old tin cup
She had a hundred dollar smile when she looked on up

CHORUS

I saw him by the roadside, looking crooked and funny
Stuffing tins cans in an old brown sack
I was out for a run and he was out for the money
He gave me one look and then he never looked back
No, he didn't have a dollar and he didn't have shame
And I never knew his story and I never got his name
But every now and then I had to wonder, all the same
How he'd ever fill his belly at a nickel on the pound
But he was gone from the ditches when I came back around

And I shouldn't have to tell you cause you know it's true
'Cause you can see them in the city, in the country, in the town
Hard working folks like me and you
Who rise right up when they're beat on down
Who struggle all their lives just as hard as they're able
And only get the crumbs from the rich man's table
Makes me think about the king who was born in the stable
Or how they marched with the singing and the trumpets' sound
Till the walls of the city came a-tumbling down

CHORUS

Leviathan
©1987 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP).

My friends, Cliff & Chere Periera took me on a whale watch a few years back out on the Oregon coast. This piece came out of that afternoon.

This Time of Year
©1988 by John McCutcheon. Published by Appalsongs (ASCAP).

For Paul Reisler & Julie Portman in celebration of their marriage: May 15, 1988

And once again this time of year the willow's first to show
I've often seen her yellowed green while still the maples flow
Birds come alive on every limb, the rivers test their banks
And the redbud and the dogwood brightly spread their wings in thanks
And the night are cool and clear this time of year

And once again this time of year my plow will split the ground
And leave the blackened guts of earth straight-furrowed up and down
The skeletons of last year's corn with all the sticks and stones
I buried under just this morn, the last of winter's bones
And we'll start again from here this time of year

Out on the horizon there a thunderhead is blowing
If the wind is right sometime tonight she'll quench my summer's seed
And in another month this ground will be alive and growing
And we'll start the season's struggle with the weather and the weed
But for now this land is clean and still, new fencelines wrap her 'round
But my dreams have no horizonlines, this promise knows no bounds
And, Love, it's good to feel you near this time of year

For there's a change comes in the weather
There's a change comes in the sea
There's a change comes in the land
And there's a change comes over me
With the changes of the season now that everything is new
But there isn't any change in my love for you

And once again this time of year here at the workday's end
The night wind stirs the curtains, the moon soft upon your skin
The winter's quilt all stowed away while tangled in the covers
We plow, once more, familiar ground, two old and seasoned lovers
And one heart is all I hear this time of year

Ask Any Farmer
©1988 by John McCutcheon. Published by Appalsongs (ASCAP).

Come fill up your glasses and gather on around
And I'll tell you the truth what's a going on down
All through the country people sounding the alarm
Everyone's a-wondering what's happening on the farm
The businessman says, "Let the strongest ones survive"
But if he ain't got food how's he gonna stay alive
And the politician says, "Everything's a-getting better"
But you might as well be standing 'hind a compost spreader

CHORUS

Just ask any farmer in Kansas
Ask any farmer in Carolina, too
Out in Dakota, Kentucky, Minnesota
And I guarantee you'll find that what I'm telling you is true

Now, I believe it all started 'bout a dozen years ago
Everybody scratching just to make a little dough
The bankers saw the land prices go high
So they went to the farmer, said, "Buy, buy, buy
"Don't you need a little money? Don't you need a little loan?
"Don't you need some new machinery? A mortgage on your home?"
Then the land went down till everything's a debit
And the banker came back, said, "You ain't got the credit
"And I'd really like to help you, but it's out of my control"
And now the farmer's in hock, but the banker's on a roll

CHORUS

But all through time, I'm telling you
Trouble on the farm ain't nothing new
It's the fever or the government,
The flooding or the drought,
Hard times is something every farmer know about
How the cost goes up and the price goes down
Till you don't get nothing when you haul it into town
But nobody's worried yet, you got to understand
And now I'm gonna tell you when it really hits the fan:
When the farmer can't pay for the low, low prices
And the banker's in trouble, then we got a crisis
Uncle Sam steps in and the banker's in clover
And the newspapers tell us that the trouble's all over
And they call it a solution but the facts all mock it
'Cause the money all stays in the pin-striped pocket

CHORUS

Then we sat down the farmer and we told him what to do
Said, "Feed the world and keep the price cheap, too!"
So he doubled the production, and he kept the prices down
By loading up on chemicals and spreading them around
Now you got cheap food and you know there's plenty of it
Don't taste like nothing but your checkbooks love it
And the topsoil washes and the land gets dry
And the farmer gets sick and the earthworms die

CHORUS

You know, it's mighty hard to figure and I'll never understand
We got so much food and there's hunger in the land
You might get a little bite of that surplus cheese
But most of that food is getting shipped overseas
Where it's sold so cheap that the farmers over there
Go belly-up broke but we don't care
'Cause the plan is for the food of all them nations
Be raised over here by big corporations

CHORUS

They say you better get bigger or you better get out
The way to get bigger is for another to get out
They pit the farmers of the land against each other
When really we ought to be sisters and brothers
No, we're never gonna make it until we realize
That we got to get together, yes, we got to organize
Stop killing our farmers, stop killing our land
Stop handing all the profits to the middle man
It's like all this time we've been going to the till
Saying, "Charge it! And send my kids the bill!"
How they gonna make it? What they gonna do?
How they gonna pay it when the note comes due?"

CHORUS

Stone by Stone
©1990 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP).

I am just a plumber and I take pride in my job
I know every inch of piping underneath the streets of Prague
Now overhead I hear the tread one hundred thousand strong
Like the water's will they cannot still this power that moves us on

CHORUS:

One by one, side by side
We will stand and face the fire
There's no turning back this tide
Stone by stone, day by day
We will make the great walls crumble
And the borders fade away

I am just a mother, two children, six and four
And I grew up in the shadow of the Wall and of the War
From our mothers to our daughters we will pass this torch one day
We praise the names who fan the flames and in one voice we say

CHORUS

I was just a student and, like students everywhere
We dreamed great dreams together as we gathered in the square
Though their tanks might break our bodies we'll one day break these chains
The streets of blood, like freedom's flood, is surging through our veins

CHORUS

I hear the distant thunder that rages o'er the sea
And I stand in awe and wonder "What's this got to do with me?"
As we hear the cries for freedom rise from cities far and near
From great to least in West and East we join their voices here

CHORUS

The World Turned Upside Down
words & music by Leon Rosselson

In 1649 to St. George's Hill
A ragged band they called the "Diggers" came to show the peoples' will
They defied the landlords, they defied the laws
They were the dispossessed reclaiming what was theirs

"We come in peace," they said, "to dig and sow
"We come to work the land in common and to make the wasteland grow
"This earth divided we will make whole
"So it can be a common treasury for all"

"The sin of property we do disdain
"No man has any right to buy and sell the earth for private gain
"By theft and murder they stole the lands
"Now everywhere the walls rise up at their commands"

"They make the laws to chain us well
"The clergy dazzle us with heaven or they damn us into hell
"We will not worship the god they serve
"The god of greed who feeds the rich while poor men starve"

"We work, we eat together, we need no swords
"We will not bow to masters or pay rent to the lords
"We are free men, though we are poor
"You Diggers, all stand up for glory! Stand up now!"

From the men of property the orders came
They sent the hired men and troopers to roots out the Diggers' claim
Burn down their cottages, tear down their corn
They came in peace, but the orders came to cut them down

You poor take courage, you rich take care
This earth was made a common treasury for everyone to share
All things in common, all people one
They were dispersed, but still the vision lingers on

Room Here for Another
©1988 by John McCutcheon. Published by Appalsongs (ASCAP).

There's room for another if you got no place
Come here in the light so I can see your face
The cops leave us alone back of Murphy's Body Shop
And when the weather gets this bad the Old Man leaves one car unlocked
They really gave you quite a cut, here, this should wipe it clean
These days, you know, it seems as though the whole damn world's gone mean
And I know this ain't the Hilton, but the back seat here is free
And I can see just where you've been, my friend, and you're safe in here with me

My name is William Sanders, but my friends all call me "Bo"
I was born right here in Gary thirty seven years ago
When the town was full of smoke and jobs as far as I could see
And the future shone as bright as new-made steel for guys like me
But things went down so fast, remember back in '81?
And, like fools, we all believed when they said better times would come
Now, like the guys who'd hit me up for quarters when we'd meet,
I scrounge for scraps of human kindness out here on the street

There's Lilah, at the Bon Ton, she's good for coffee anytime
And the Lighthouse Mission's warm and dry, but you have to talk their line
There's a faucet at the Chevron that they don't turn off at night
If the weather and the luck just turn we might make out alright

Yeah, I've got two girls myself, they're with my wife somewhere out West
If I just knew they're OK it sure would put my mind at rest
And somedays I spend at the park to watch the families come
And remind myself I'm someone's Dad, not just some goddamn bum
This sure ain't what I asked for, no, it sure ain't what I planned
I ain't looking for no handout, but I sure could use a hand
And those who have and those who don't are all the same at last
For the climb, you know, is long and slow but the fall comes hard and fast

So there's room for another if you got no place
Come here in the light so I can see your face
The cops leave us alone back of Murphy's Body Shop
And when the weather gets this bad the Old Man leaves one car unlocked

No Turning Back Now
©1987 by John McCutcheon. Published by Appalsongs (ASCAP).

Well, I think I finally understand
What they meant when the old folks said
How you go to sleep wishing that you'd never been born
And you wake up in the morning dead
But with four young ones and another on the way
There ain't no time to fret
There's another 30 acres and there's only just me
The winter's comin' and I ain't done yet

CHORUS:

So I'll hitch my team in the morning
And I'll put my hand to the plow
'Cause you know, by damn, I'm a freeborn man
And there ain't no turning back now

Was back 'bout 15 years ago
Though it seems like a hundred now
I left the Allegheny with Liza and the wagon
A pair of oxen and a bull tongue plow
Through the doubts and the fever and the snowstorms
We plowed out on our own
And we must have though of turning back a dozen times a day
Till we forded the Missouri to our newfound home

CHORUS

Well, the price won't rise and the rain won't fall
And the cow went dry last week
The money's short and the weeds are tall
And the barn's got a hell of a leak
But I'm a lot better off than the others up river
'Cause at least this land is mine
Still sometimes I think the distance 'tween a fool and a farmer
Ain't more than a damn thin line

CHORUS

Well, bye and bye I'll up and die
And there'll be some rest for me
And I won't have to worry 'bout the drought or the floodin'
When they plant my final seed
Oh, dig my grave with a bull tongue blade
Lay me down in an old feed sack
Then sharpen your hoe 'cause, don't you know,
I'll be a damn tough weed when I grow on back

CHORUS

The Silver Run
©1985 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP).

The water's furrow falls behind the belching engine to the rear
As we leave behind the town too small this time of year
The waving figures at the harbor, some well-weathered, some so small
Know the stories of the harvest every fall
One hundred miles, maybe more, along that living, leaping shore
Oh, we'll set our nets and dream of better times
All along Prince William Sound where the silvers run and bound
And our lives meet in the tangle of the lines

For all the fishers on the waters, all the fishers back on shore
Whether framed in foam or in the kitchen door
All the mothers and the fathers, all the daughters and the sons
Are cast adrift until the season's done
So while the shining seiners sleep, our small gillnetter fleet
Will crease their shadows in the morning light
The ribboned broomsticks in their masts
Tell the triumphs of the past
And turn our own dreams homeward in the night

This year we lost just two to fire and the sea claimed seven more
Oh, we'll carve their names this winter on the boathouse door
But the suppers and the solace will not fill the empty homes
Of the ones the water's taken for her own
All the ones gone to their graves, these farmers of the waves
Keep their silent watch on us from Beacon's Hill
But for the ones they've left behind, every fall serves to remind them
Of the chair at table's head that's empty still

So, reel her in, boys, pick her clean, for the scow is pulling to
Oh, we're four weeks out and still too much to do
But here the summer's fed them kindly, see, there's nothing under ten
It's just one more cast and then it's home again
One hundred miles, maybe more, along that living, leaping shore
Oh, we'll set our nets and dream of better times
All along Prince William Sound where the silvers run and bound
And our lives meet in the tangle of the lines

What Itʼs Like
©1987 by John McCutcheon. Published by Appalsongs (ASCAP).

Do you know what it's like to work in there?
Well, you start snatchin' guts and scrapin' hair
And close calls, sure, I've had a few
Each month you figure one or two
But you punch the clock and you give what's due
And you learn more 'bout Spam than you wish you knew

Do you know what it's like when you first talk back?
Well, you've worked like hell and you ain't been slack
But the only thing they understand
Comes down the line in four inch cans
So you learn to shove when you know you're burned
But you're turning back on all you've learned:
Like, "Don't rock the boat", "Don't make a scene"
"Don't draw attention", do you know what I mean?

Do you know what it's like when you get the call?
"There's a strike vote down at the union hall"
So you pack up the kids and you drive to town
But you ride in silence the whole way down
'Cause you're thinking about the days at home
Long afternoons when you're there alone
But you're not the first and when your kids ask why
You say, "We might not win, but we'll damn well try!"

Do you know what it's like to walk the line
At ten below in the wintertime?
When the sheriff and the National Guard
Push you back in your own front yard
And the cars roll by with their shouts and stares
And you think no one in the whole town cares
And you think, "I wasn't brought up this way! What's happening to my life?
"What will my family say? They think I'm just a mother and a wife!"

Do you know what it's like to be arrested in your own hometown
In the broad daylight with your children 'round?
And you feel the steel close on your wrists
And your heart and your hands are clenched to fists
And you lie in your cell and wrestle all night
So full of doubt, so sure you're right
And they said, "Don't break the law!", "Just mind the rules!"
"Jail is for criminals and luckless fools!"

Do you know what it's like when you think that you're all on your own
And you suddenly find that you're not alone?
It's in the papers, on TV:
People who seem lots like me
Little folks who find they're hurled
Into the fires of this world
And they're forged to silver and they're beaten to gold
Till they find they have some strength untold
So I'll take their hand and hold the line
And rise to battle one more time