Home, by Chris Monti

Home

by Chris Monti

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Full Digital Discography

9

releases

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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. , and , .

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1.	Home 03:35	lyrics	buy track
Home -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti If I had a dollar for every time I've been \| Down to the ocean for to take a swim \| If I had a dime for every time I've gone \| I'd spend it all to get back home \| If I had a ride for every ride I've caught \| If I caught sight of everything I've sought \| If I could feel you from across the room \| I'd sweep you up with that old dust broom \| We would dance across that warped wooden floor \| Upon the dust of memories alights a little more \| If I had a chance for every coin I've tossed \| If I had a win for every time I've lost \| Would you still love me the way you do \| If I wasn't coatless and without shoes? \| If I had a lover for every one I've loved \| If I had a raindrop from every cloud above \| If I had a good time for every cup I've drained \| There wouldn't be time enough for all the pain \| If I did it all and then did it all again \| And after every ending the beginning came and went \| There's nothing I could change, even if I tried \| Despite all the tears my poor mother cries \| If I had a dog, I would walk around \| I'd let him walk me all over the town \| If I had a house cat living in my home \| I'd let him teach me how to live all alone \| If the sun did shine on every sunny day \| And if I let you in after I'd turned you away \| I'd still be here all by myself \| Unread notebooks collecting memories upon the shelf \| But a book is kindling if that's all you've got \| And a body needs fire to get good and hot \| I'm cold as ice, I'm cold as stone \| What I'm trying to say is, “Please come home” \|
2.	Going Swimming 02:13	lyrics	buy track
Going Swimming -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti If I could I surely would \| Make all that I feel understood \| So I’ll ask you straight and I’ll ask you plain \| Won’t you come swimming with me? \| (chorus) Going swimming you and me \| Going swimming for the world to see \| Test the water, it sure looks good \| Won’t you come swimming with me? \| Well I don’t know but I’ve heard told \| That you’re bound to lose what you try to hold \| On the other hand I’ve heard it spoken \| That an empty heart is a heart that’s broken \| (chorus) I’ve got no towel, got no bathing suit \| I’ve got a ragged voice, I play a broken lute \| Nothing on my plate, nothing in my pan \| But I’ll treat you just as well as I can \| (chorus) If I could I surely would \| Try to be about twice as good \| But what you see is what I’ve got \| Wont you come swimming with me? \| (chorus)
3.	The Eleven 05:06	lyrics	buy track
The Eleven -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti Old-time music in Richmond, VA \| Mrs. Phyllis Ladd Blackwell, she don't play \| But she sits right up close to her daughter and her man \| To get the feel of the pickin of that old-timey band \| It takes a worried man to sing a worried song \| I’m worried now but not for long \| A little fiddle music tends to brings me ease \| Is that the sound of a banjo in the whisper of the trees? \| New Orleans, playing with a Dixieland band \| Playing in the corner, ain’t no bandstand, grandstand \| “We don’t do ‘St Louis Blues’ in D! \| We’ll do ‘Saints’ in F, watch the B flat minor,” said the tenor banjo playing Louisiana old timer \| There’s a Jesuit priest down on Bourbon Street \| Who learned clarinet at Peterson’s feet \| He said, “The best ministry the people to bring \| Is to move their bodies with that Nawlins Swing” \| I heard my dad play once when I was four \| The only time Bill Halley came a-knockin at our door \| My old Dad put his guitar away \| In the closet ten years ‘till I was ready to play \| I learned from Jon Hathaway in his cramped little room \| The man could play the guitar like he was sweeping a broom \| The best thing to me that he ever did say is, \| “You can play anything that you want to play” \| The earth of music is wide, its water deep \| It has no secrets that it wants to keep \| So sing it out, play it loud \| Part the foggy, noxious cloud \| Of doubt and despair, clear the air \| Feel the wind on your face, feel the breeze in your hair \| In the rat-a-tat-tat of the marching band \| Hear the cosmic call to reach out your hand \|
4.	Dish Rag 02:27	info	buy track
5.	Darlene 03:03	lyrics	buy track
Darlene -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti I wake up in the morning in my cabin in the fog \| I've got a pain in my head like my head against a log \| I smell coffee brewing but I live alone \| I reach under my pillow but my gun is gone \| I am stripped down naked so I pull my pants on \| Peek around the corner and take a look around \| I spy a long-haired woman, her ear to my phone \| Feet on the table like she was right at home \| (chorus) Darlene, Darlene \| Won't you leave me alone \| I don't have the time to let you run me down \| She looks up and sees me, puts my phone down and smiles \| Says, “I let myself in through the back window with a brick \| Cleaned out the fridge, made us some coffee and eggs \| Went poking around for the checkbook...” \| Darlene dresses sharp in a working-woman's-day-suit \| Behind her child's-big-eyes her mind is astute \| I can't say for sure that she means to do me harm \| But I've got the feeling she wants to get those big strong hands on my farm \| (chorus) I live alone I say and I push her away \| Throw the eggs in the trash and the coffee down the drain \| I open the door on the world of morning light \| I say, “Darlene, get out of my sight” \| (chorus) I can fix myself breakfast, I need my day to my own \| And in the evening I don't mind sleeping alone \| You are a beautiful girl, but a woman on the make \| And the little I have left of self-respect and time... there's nothing that I'll let you take \| (chorus) Darlene you're a fox, I'll give you that \| But I fear for my hens like a mouse fears a cat \| Come around again with your eye on my crops \| Like a .22, tin-can, fence-post I'll drop \| (chorus)
6.	Independence Day 04:12	lyrics	buy track
Independence Day -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti This is my own Independence Day \| This is my own Independence Day \| I can't find a better way \| I can't find a better way to celebrate \| Than to be here alone \| The indifferent maw of death took my new wife \| Interrupting our plans for a happy life \| Interrupting all our argument and strife \| Cutting our ties with a merciless knife \| One last shrill note from the fife, and then the rustle of leaves \| Mother's gone I can't do it alone \| If I do nothing they'll never be born \| Missing life by a few lazy days \| Better off, let me count the ways \| Never enter this maze, never feel so alone \| I abandon my charges and I take to the wing \| No more life this world to bring \| No more searching, no more song to sing \| Everything goes cold \| This is my own Independence Day \| This is my own Independence Day \| I can't find a better way \| I can't find a better way to celebrate \| Than to be here alone \|
7.	Chicken Shack 02:12	lyrics	buy track
Chicken Shack -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti Dressed in black by the chicken shack \| You stole my chickens now I’m taking them back \| I wake up in jail surly and hung over \| Not dreaming of grouse or geese or plover \| But of you you you, you filthy little thief \| And of the theft of my chickens that’s brought me so much grief \| I approach you like a man and ask for what’s owed \| But all you do is jeer and goad \| I take a swing and miss and meet with you fist \| And that’s the last thing I remember… \| Then I awake in a cell, bloody face and hands tender \| My minds gone from black to blue to red \| How I’ll get you back, the only thought in my head \| I duck the pillory, now I’m on the loose \| I dodge the hangman, slip the noose \| Knock down the guard with my fist where he stood post as a sentry \| and make and exit of the entrance of that old penitentiary \| I jack the bondsman who’s post bail, sweep my tracks and leave no trail \| With the bondsman’s purse I buy a coat and a gun \| And I go the bar to drink down the sun \| When the day draws down I make for the woods \| Through the fields, to the farmhouse, to my stolen goods \| Downwind of the dogs, I inspire no bark \| And then the clouds break and the light cuts the dark \| In the glow of the moon’s pale blue light \| I am revealed to be as I am tonight \| Dressed in black by the chicken shack \| You stole my chickens, now I’m taking them back \| I slip into the coop as quiet as a fox \| And realize I have neither sack nor box \| How many chickens can I hold against my breast? \| I fit eight in my coat and set free the rest \| Like a mad fat man I make for the road \| A trail of feathers giving away my load \| The highway made I slow to a walk \| And quiet my scared chickens with soft soothing talk \| But then a shift in the air, something’s not right \| My chickens and I are not alone on the highway tonight \| Jumped by bad actors at the edge of town \| Gun butt to head and I go down \| They open my coat and there to be found \| Eight sleeping chickens making not a sound \| Till the light of the moon hits the black of their eyes \| They startle our assailants with their angry chicken cries \| The scared men swing till all the chickens are dead \| While I can do nothing but bleed from the head \| The chickens dispatched they go for my gold which till this morning the bondsman did hold \| Of boots coat and gun I am also relieved \| Then left with my chickens to shiver and grieve \| My brood in my arms I’ll bleed till I die \| With the last of my breath this thought I confide: \| There is no chicken that a man did own \| That the grim chicken reaper didn’t bring back home \|
8.	Honey Bee 02:34	lyrics	buy track
Honey Bee -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti Honey bees in the air in the early morning light \| About their honey bee business, buzz around in flight \| Honey bee, oh honey bee \| I hear the rush of the city, the traffic going past \| This ain’t my first morning but it might be my last \| So I set right down with my guitar on my knee \| And write a little ode to the honey bee \| Cabbage and grapes and beans and corn \| They’re all wet with dew in the early morn’ \| The doc is in the field and the potter’s in the barn \| Storyteller’s in the backyard workin on a yarn \| Honey bee, honey bee, honey bee three \| Laying so still on the stoop with me \| Two of them drained of life from the cold \| The other too soon for his fate to be told \| I lay him in the leaves in the warmth of the sun \| He might see another morning ‘fore his race is run \| Honey bee, good luck to you honey bee \| Mandy comes out for a cup of tea \| And I tell her the tale of the honey bee \| Each in our own way, honey bee \| We’re praying for you \| I let him sit for a while for to give him some time \| Finger pickin the guitar and scribblin lines \| Then I get right down on my hands and my knees \| And I check on my friend below the dogwood tree \| And lo and behold, there ain’t no honey bee \| Honey bee lives through the cold in the night \| To fly around once again in the morning light \| Honey bee, how I love you honey bee \| Honey bees in the air in the early morning light \| About their honey bee business, buzz around in flight \| Honey bee, oh honey bee \|
9.	Violence 06:23	lyrics	buy track
Violence -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti People sit in broken rooms \| Wondering where to go \| People shuffle towards the door \| Wondering why it is so \| People wander City Hall \| Minds wallowing in despair \| Dragging hands over peeled walls \| Eyes fixed in a crazy stare \| Families on the open road \| Faces pressed to the glass \| Pull the plug, turn the crank \| I’ve saved up some money for gas \| People driving in their cars \| Not going anywhere \| Wheels rolling dirty tar \| The wind is in my hair \| With the might and right of Providence \| We’ll clean our house of decadence \| We’ll tax it out, we’ll raise the rents \| We’ll arm the men who watch the fence \| \| What we see is violence \| Under the guise of self defense \| Name and subjugate the dissidents \| While the righteous swell to corpulence\|
10.	guitar, anagram - Bub 02:33	info	buy track
11.	My Old Man 04:18	lyrics	buy track
My Old Man -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti My old man keeps fit and trim \| Pays good care to the shape he's in \| My old man keeps fit and trim, hey now \| Me, sometimes I let myself go \| I loose track of the morning for the love of the show \| Me, sometimes I let myself go \| Hey now \| I could learn a thing or two from my old man \| I could learn a thing or two from my old man \| Hey now \| My old man he's a model of dedication \| A good family man as he travels the nation \| Keeps his mind on his work and his wife and kids \| Keeps and eye on the future when he makes his bids \| I've got a good woman for the first time ever \| And though my work's got me on the road to wherever \| I plan to be as good as my old man \| I've learned a thing or two from my old man \| I've learned a thing or two from my old man \| Hey now \| Now this ain't to say my old man's a saint \| His momma says he is but I say that he ain't \| This ain't to say my old man's a saint, oh no \| But any troubles between him and me, we try to lay them out in the air to see \| Air them in the open breeze \| Me and my old man \| Me and my old man \| Hey now \| My old man raised me to understand \| That I should use my skills to help my fellow man \| Well I've grown up to be a picker and singer \| Not an academic or some big-time shit-slinger \| I'm not always sure that I can understand \| How I'm doing any good with a guitar in hand \| But at least I'm not a banker or a politician \| Making jokes is all well and good \| But a man's still got to do what he knows he should \| I'm a writer and a singer and I take my work most seriously \| I made a promise to my old man's old man \| When they laid him in the ground I touched his hand \| I made a promise to my old man's old man \| I said, “Grandpa I promise to do right by you \| I'll do all the things a good man should do \| But I'll do them in the way I know to be true to who I am” \| Like my old man and his old man \| Like my old man and his old man \| Hey now \|
12.	Oh My Love 04:43	lyrics	buy track
Oh My Love -words and music © 2011 Chris Monti Oh my love, I'm going to miss you when I'm gone \| Oh my love, I'm going to miss you when I'm gone \| I'll miss your shy smile and the weight of you in my arms \| I laid down last night but I could not get to sleep \| I laid down last night but I could not get to sleep \| I gave you what I had but I guess I didn't give it to keep \| I'm like a man out walking in a cold and blowing rain \| I'm like a man out walking in a cold and blowing rain \| No shelter for my body, no solace for my brain \| The sun my shine on us again someday \| The sun may shine on us again someday \| But by the look of the skies it won't be today \|

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released December 1, 2010

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about

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