Get all 9 Chris Monti releases available on Bandcamp and save 15%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Supreme Electric, Pandemic Baby, Box Guitar, Songs from The Yankee Peddler, Three Weddings And A Funeral, Kitchen Midden: Traditional Songs Volume One, Home, Locust Grove, and 1 more.
1. |
Long In The Tooth
03:36
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Long in the Tooth
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
Springtime open window | Same old foul-mouthed pop song | And the cawing of crow come to pick our bones | And in the back-yard | That old broken-toothed graveyard | It rolls and moans
It’s a good reminder of where we’re going | And in the smooth, polished marble of some long-dead’s headstone | You might catch a glimpse of the state you’re in | What kind of shape are you in?
Young man I know | Young man I know | I should let him go
You getting long in the tooth boy! | When you gonna know enough to let it go?
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2. |
Annalee
03:07
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Annalee
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
Annalee, when I love you early in the night | I wake up in the wee, wee hours, my heart in such a fright | Oh Annalee, How could you treat me so bad?
The first time I kiss you every day my heart swells like a balloon | You bless my evening home like a rising, waxing moon | Annalee, Maybe you ain’t so bad
I wake up in the morning to find you packed and gone | Leaving me with nothing unless I can find a song | Oh Annalee, You treat me so bad
I tell you Annalee, don’t want to see you any more | Put a cap on this relationship, I’m gonna close the door | But Annalee, You such a fine lookin gal |
The way that you love me, man it gets me high | All the troubles in my life you somehow simplify | Oh Annalee, maybe you’re not so bad |
There’s news of flood and famine and war | The suffering of mankind | But a little taste of Annalee and me I feel fine | Oh Annalee, How could you be so good? |
Annalee, Annalee, I think you’re clouding my mind | But you’ve got me in such a spot I’ll drink you up till I go blind | Oh Annalee, one of these days |
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3. |
Top of the Hill
03:06
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Top of the Hill
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
There was an old man, name of Bill | He lived on top of the top of the hillSpent all day by the window sill | Said, “I’m old as hell but I’m living still
Spent all day watching kids at play | Said, “Them days to me is far away | Days of runnin and fightin | Ridin around on them little red bicycles | ‘Else getting pulled around on them little red wagons
One day old Bill had a little sit-down with himself | He went over the facts
I’ve got arthritic hands and a bent-over back | And I’m workin on a stroke or a heart attack | I fart up a storm but shittin’s a dream | I’ve got a shriveled old prick and a weak urine stream
So this old man, name of Bill | Who lived on top of the top of the hill | Said you know I ain’t got much more to live | You know I ain't got much more life to live
He went down to the basement, took him a day | Pushed a bunch of old shit out of the way | Found that old toboggan, brought it up and outside | And said… “I’m gonna go for a ride”
That sled looked fine at the top of the hill | As the sun was comin up behind old Bill | He put his sore ass on then old wooden planks | And to his god he offered one final thanks
That sled moved along on that slick morning grass | Trees and shrubberies flying past | Blue jays squawking and making way | For a guy on his sled on his very last day
It’s too gory to tell how this story did end | For he failed to turn when he hit the bend | He didn’t zig or zag, he only went straight | And with that decision, he sealed his fate
As the sun was coming up over head | Of all the children lying in the bed | That old man he rolled over dead
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4. |
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King Solomon and Zen Master Nam Cheon
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
King Solomon holds a baby in his arms | Two women claim to be mother | Because he is so wise, its up to him to decide | To give it to one or the other | Oh King Solomon! What will you do? | Oh King Solomon! What will you do? |
Picking up the baby he draws forth his sword | Prepared to cut it in two | "One half a baby" He says to each lady | "Will be given to you" | One woman laughs, spite on her tongue | The other has tears in her eyes | Wise Solomon puts down his sword | Says, "The mother is she who now cries | The mother is she who now cries"
The monks of the east and the western halls | Are fighting over a cat | Zen Master Nam Cheon steps on the scene | says, "Is this where your true self is at?" | Then picking up the cat, he draws forth his sword, prepared to cut it in two | If you were there, one of the monks | Tell me, what would you do?
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5. |
Chris and Adam's Song
02:51
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Chris and Adam’s Song
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
Momma and papa livin up on the hill | Momma and papa livin up on the hill | They ain’t makin much noise but that baby that’s a-comin sure will
Papa’s out workin, workin tile and slate | Papa’s out workin, workin tile and slate | Mamma’s makin sure then babies get fed all across that Green Mountain State
We got a blue starry sky and a waning moon coming up | We got a blue starry sky and a waning moon coming up | Papa grab a bottle for to fill my cup
We got some good tobacco and a brand new corn-cob pipe | We got some good tobacco and a brand new corn-cob pipe | Momma’s inside sleepin and the boys are tellin stories by firelight
I might live in the city but I ain’t no city man | I might live in the city but I ain’t no city man | I’m gonna pack up my things and get out of the city as fast as I can |
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6. |
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Country Boy in the City (17 years old)
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
This town was founded on secret sad thoughts and stolen drugs | I find old aged both fascinating and disintegrating | And then there is beauty | But I digress…
Time is not so much spread out before me as it seems to be arranged in little boxed in which I wait claustrophobically until time’s up! | And I climb into the next box
Rigorously going from field to field | Absent of passion, principles, love | Sadness graying the faces of virgins aching | The innocence of childhood is not genuine | It shines forth from their faces littered with soup and cigarette butts | Mud on the first day, and in truth how could they not know? | So send me away to anyone, anywhere | And threaten me my darling, we’re at a loss | With a scissors or something else sharp if you still adore me
It is a human universe and I can show you teeth you’ve never dreamed | But all you ever do is go back to ancestral comforts | Baffling combustion everywhere and hardly any arc of love | Only heartily materialistic fears
So how can we begin again? | Know that perfection does not exist in isolation | In fact, it does not exist at all | And what just poked you in the eye was your own umbrella | So get up, get out of bed | Because there might just be a few little songs to be sung before the decimation of the race
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7. |
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Julie Song No. I: Three Birds
-words by Julie Restivo and Chris Monti words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
Three birds sound like scissors | Split me like a piece of paper | Open eyes to open skies…
Three birds low like lizards | Fan me as I rub my eyes | Back belongs on a rock with sand and shining sun
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8. |
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Even When You're Not Here
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
Even when you’re not here | It still feels like you are here | And it fills me with hope | And it fills me with love | And I know I will see you again
You’ve given me such a gift | And I want to make sure that you know | To stand up so strong | To know right from wrong | And to live with a heart full of love
I don’t need much of you’re time | I know you’ve got much good work to do | But I want you to know | And I do my best to show | That I love you
Even when you’re not here | It still feels like you are here | And it fills me with hope | And it fills me with love | And I know I will see you again
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9. |
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The Man Who Lost his Fear of God
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
I’m a-divin in the water | Have you seen my daughter? | I’m a-divin in the water | Hey! Hey! | I’m a-comin up for air | Have you seen her yellow hair? | I’m a-comin up for air | Hey! Hey! |
Lord don’t you hurt this girl, with her blue-eyes and curls | She ain’t never done nothin wrong | She raise up to you every day in praise | That melodious voice in song
I’ll dive below the waves | My daughter for to save | I’m a-divin in the waves | Hey! Hey! | I’ll go diving in the deep | My daughter for to keep | I’m a-divin in the deep | Hey! Hey!
I see the ghostly white like a moth in flight | Through the green waters down below | I’ll dive again if it is my end | I can’t bear to see her go
Lord if you take that girl I’ll still praise you till you die | And when my time comes to leave this life by and by | Open up those heavenly gates | So I can see that girl again up on high | Then I’ll bid you close | And draw you near | And stab you in the eye
I’m a-divin in the water | Have you seen my daughter? | I’m a-divin in the water | Hey! Hey! | I’m a-comin up for air | Have you seen her yellow hair? | I’m a-comin up for air | Hey! Hey!
I won’t commit no crime | I’ll bid my time | I’ll make you think that I’m true | But when this life I leave | There’ll be a dagger in my sleeve | And that dagger is meant for you
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10. |
Leaving in the Morning
03:59
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Leaving in the Morning
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
I’m leaving in the morning | I’m gonna take that early train | I’m leaving in the morning | I’m gonna take that early train | I won’t say I’m tired of you | But I will say I’m tired of all that rain
One more cup of coffee and then I’ll hit the road | One more cup of coffee and then I’ll hit the road | You left me with nothing, but still I carry this heavy load
I say to this woman “Will you be my woman?” | She says, “I am a woman of my own” | I say to this woman “Will you be my woman?” | She says, “I am a woman of my own” | “Oh Lord!” I say, “There go my plans for a happy home”
I’m leaving in the morning | I’m gonna take that early train | I’m leaving in the morning | I’m gonna take that early train | I won’t say I’m tired of you | But I will say I’m tired of all that rain
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11. |
Lowland
03:56
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Lowland
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
I’m goin down to the lowland | I’m goin down to the lowland | If you’re not careful | I will carry you down
I’m waitin on my slow dance | I’m waitin on my slow dance | I been waitin on you | But you ain’t come around
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12. |
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Caroline and Matt's Wedding Song
-words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
Oh sister on your wedding day | What helpful things can your brother say? | When we first met back in ‘79 | I knew we’d have a real good time | You’ve done everything right that I could not do | But still you love me and I love you | You’ve got wide arms and a watermelon heart | And a good sense of family and that’s the best place to start | We’ve become good friends over the course of out lives | Now we’re old enough to talk about husbands and wives
Oh sister and brother on your wedding day | Listen to these words that I’d like to say | Times will get tough but you can work through that part | Just listen carefully and keep an open heart | Take care of each other through thick and thin | No matter what situation you find you’re stuck in | Listen to each other | Talk it through | And remember that the other is in love with you
Love is something we can’t understand | It doesn’t fit in our brains | It doesn’t fit in our hands | It doesn’t do to keep it and you can’t just give it away | But be quiet and listen for it | And it can help you make your way | LOVE | …oh sister and brother on your wedding day
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13. |
Me and Curby
06:41
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Me and Curby -words and music © 2005 Chris Monti
Well I played a little for Curby | Whom I met on a lonesome night | His hands were in his pockets | And his breath showed in the light It was too cold to play the guitar that night | But I needed something bad | My hands were red and stiff | And this is all I had
He’d spent last night in a church basement | Where they gave him a three day stay | And then they gave him a cup of coffee | And sent him on his way | I told Curby about the park | Where I had stayed the night before | All night afraid of being stumbled upon | Waking up tired and sore
He’d lost his job in Alabama | Left the south for to roam | Working here and there as a dishwasher | No real place to call home | He ended up in the Pacific Northwest | Working at the Texaco | Said, “I got laid off again when they merged or something, I don’t know” | He’s got a brother in South California | Where it seemed like it might be warm | But it was nothin like Alabama | And he couldn’t stay long
Now he’s back out on the highway | With nothing but his clothes | He’s got everything to gain | And nothing left to lose | I’m still picking on my guitar | Even though it is too cold | Curby says, “I sure like them blues | This is something that I know”
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Chris Monti Providence, Rhode Island
Known for his effortless style and musical curiosity, Chris has immersed himself in West African guitar, dug deep into country-blues and old-time music, and moves seamlessly between diverse styles from Egypt, Peru and India. He has toured the East Coast, Canada and points west. He also enjoys his singular role in the community as a strange combination of entertainer, educator, and magician. ... more
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