Locust Grove

by Chris Monti

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released March 1, 2005

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Chris Monti Somerville, Massachusetts

Chris Monti is a singer/songwriter whose original songs are influenced by Rock + Roll, Country-Blues and Old-Time Fiddle Music as well as music from West Africa, Egypt, India and South America.
Chris has played with country-blues great Paul Geremia and Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars. Chris has a puppet show called "The Yankee Peddler", and a dance band Big Biscuit. .
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Track Name: Long In The Tooth
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? 
Track Name: Annalee
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 |
Track Name: Top of the Hill
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 hillSpent 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
Track Name: King Solomon and Zen Master Nam Cheon
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?
Track Name: Chris and Adam's Song
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 |
Track Name: Country Boy in the City (17 Years Old)
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
Track Name: acoustic, folk, guitar, - Julie Song No. I: Three Birds
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
Track Name: Even When You're Not Here
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
Track Name: The Man Who Lost His Fear Of God
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
Track Name: Leaving in the Morning
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
Track Name: Lowland
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
Track Name: acoustic, folk wedding, - Caroline and Matt's Wedding Song (2005)
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
Track Name: Me and Curby
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”