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. |
Julie Song No. II
02:43
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Julie Song No. II
-written by Julie Restivo and Chris Monti Words and music © 2002 Chris Monti
How quickly our needs recede and return As we bend our intentions to fit the weather | I’ll match my movement to the strength of the wind | Efficiency decreases as I begin where the ocean ends |
I begin where the ocean ends | As clouds rise slowly from the seams | In the desert two girls wash and wait for the day | They will not know what has come in between |
Land is large here rippled like pants | Rippled like music we dance and we dance
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2. |
The Green Song
02:57
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3. |
Leaving This City
04:55
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Leaving this City
-words and music © 2002 Chris Monti
I would like to think that I could make this woman my wife | But that won’t be the case in this life | I would like to think that I could always be around | So that I could pick her up when she’s down
(chorus)
I’m going away to leave this city | Leaving all I have behind | Oh and I don’t know | Just exactly where I’ll go | But I know, she’ll be on my mind
She would never let me take hold of her hand | I’d reach for it and she would pull it right away | I was just trying to ease her through her crying | And sometimes there’s not much that you can say | I’m starting to understand what it will take to be a man | Until I am, I will not reach out my hand
(chorus)
“If I were half the man that I thought you were looking for | I’d spend all my time looking for the other half” | When I say this she just smiles, says, “I hate what you just said” | But I had to say it because we might not have much more time
(chorus)
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4. |
23 December
03:17
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5. |
The JCBFI Blues
03:38
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6. |
The Bee Song
03:21
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The Bee Song
-words and music © 2002 Chris Monti
A bee in fall | Myriad roses | The bee does not alight
A bee in spring sun | Moves slowly through the branches | Too soon for their buds
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7. |
cats
02:50
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cats
-words and music © 2002 Chris Monti
(chorus)
The streets are all strangers | And even more strange are they to he who walks with the burden | Of thinking that he knows what he should be
To hold one’s self within the arms | To hold one’s self within the heart | Is to simply give the name | While forgetting that more subtle part | Test the water with only eye and toe | They can touch without asking to know | Drop your arms and drop your clothes | And let the wind touch those places now exposed
(chorus)
The streets are all strangers | And even more strange are they to he who walks with the burden | Of thinking that he knows what he should be
He who has purpose, his purpose he will exhaust | He who does not seek to find, he is never lost | Keep your eyes upon your feet | Then you cannot think to think | Who it is that is to meet
(chorus)
The streets are all strangers | And even more strange are they to he who walks with the burden | Of thinking that he knows what he should be
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8. |
The Local Expatriate
03:45
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The Local Expatriate
-words and music © 2002 Chris Monti
You know I can't decide if I'm a rich-boy or poor | But I'd like to have my answer ready when they knock upon my door | And they give me the what-for | And they drag me down to the station | And they tell me all about that great nation that they're building under God | They tell me if I join on in I can share in some of that wealth | But how can I make that decision if I'm wondering to myself | Baby am I a rich-boy or am I poor? |
Every day I read the newspaper | Take it for what it's worth | I try to leave behind the question of better off or worse | I take it all as education, learnin about this bountiful nation | That forgets the kids and eats the poor | While Robin Hood, she sleeps on the floor | The line is drawn, the curse is cast | My flag is flying at half-mast | My education costs a dollar a day | But what's it worth if all I have to say is | “It’s all a mess but if you want to write | you're gonna have to find that address for yourself” ?
I ride the bus with paper and pen looking for a metaphor | But each day arriving downtown there's little written when I walk out the door | To dirty streets and peeing in beer bottles | And frozen hands and uncooked meats | There's a story about breakfast and lunch and dinner | But really its not much of a tale | At home there's an artist, a painter, a poet | he loves his work but he's much too frail | Pining away on love lost for a few Who marveled for a while at his head and his hands | But who slowly awayed like the colors do fade | From his paintings of long-ago lands
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9. |
Rat Bat Astard
03:52
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Rat-Bat Astard –written by Chris Monti and Gabriel Luddy Words and music © 2002 Chris Monti
Gonna tell you a story about some Rat-Bat Astard | Who couldn't get it through the mail | Spent his days pining away, his foot caught in the milking pail | His hair was dirty and his beard was long | And he had a very powerful smell | Just-a-waitin' around, lyin on the ground | For God to ring that dinner bell
But what is God gonna say to you that you ain't heard already? | And what is God gonna give to you that you ain't already got plenty?
Wishing well send you straight to hell | Who you gonna run to? Who you gonna tell? | You ain't been kind, you ain't been discreet | With that look in your eyes and your pants around your feet
Runnin' around that underground | Looking for your soul in the lost and found | Of religion books on the dime-store shelves | But not one of them is gonna delve | Into the heart of the matter | Like why you're running circles mad as a hatter | While your soles are wearing thinner | And your body's getting fatter
Writin letters from your jail cell | From above the taiga where it's cold as hell | The snowy owl comes
billowing by | And the air is crisp ant the sky is high
Lean back your head | This will never be read
Chained to a root in a mobile suit | Is there ever an end to your days? | You suck it all in through an indigo wind and the stars turn on in a blaze | A panel of planes sweeps you into the sky | And out into space you will sail | And hear some story about some Rat-Bat Astard | Who couldn't get it going through the mail
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10. |
Take Your Rest
03:35
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Take Your Rest
-words and music © 2002 Chris Monti
Why don’t you lay down and get some sleep | I can tell by your smile that you’re in it deep | It’s all right to take it slow | You’ll be just fine, I know
Get some sleep my dear | Get some sleep my dear
You’ll wake up to a brand new day | The coffee and the paper and then you’re on your way | You’ll be all right just take it slow | You’ll be just fine I know
Get some sleep my dear | Get some sleep my dear | Get some sleep my dear | Take your rest right here
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11. |
Rachel's Song
01:30
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12. |
Thorn In Your Side
02:59
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Thorn in Your Side
-words and music © 2002 Chris Monti
I ain’t tryin to be a thorn in your side | But it ain’t like I’m some poor boy just lookin for a ride | I ain’t no poor boy and I ain’t lookin for a ride | But I’ve been thinking, together we might be satisfied
Your rollin and tumblin, I ain’t never known | Before I had the chance, had to hit the road Your rollin and tumblin, I ain’t never known | But it’s something mighty fine | That’s what that little bird told
There was that one time when I took your hand | Kissed you on the cheek, try to make you understand | There was that one time when I took your hand | Might mean nothing to you but it sure made me feel grand
I ain’t tryin to be a thorn in your side | But it ain’t like I’m some poor boy just lookin for a ride | I ain’t no poor boy and I ain’t lookin for a ride | But I’ve been thinking, together we might be satisfied
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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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