A Game of Swans

by Nancy K Dillon

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1.
Dutchman's Gold © 2018 Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) Sun goin’ down in the Western skies Touches the gold in a dead man’s eyes Long have they hungered - long have they known You can lose your mind and soul Lookin’ for the Dutchman’s Gold In the Superstition Mountains near Tortilla Flats Jacob Waltz found gold - he never once looked back He never told a soul until he grew so old That the gold beneath his bed called his name Yeah, the gold beneath his bed called his name CHORUS Find the Weaver’s Needle - spiral out from there Circle ‘round the sun… 5 miles oughta do it - 4 Peaks to the North If you pass the 3 Red Hills you’ve gone too far Sun comin’ up in the Eastern skies One man folds and another man dies Long have they hungered - long have they known You can lose your mind and soul Lookin’ for the Dutchman’s gold Near Apache Junction - Highway 88 The wind blows up from Hell and enters Heaven’s Gate Julia Thomas knew but she never told a soul Till the gold beneath his bed called her name Yeah, the gold beneath his bed called her name
2.
St Jude 04:26
3.
Annabelle 05:16
Annabelle © 2018 Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) /John Hadley (BMI) Annabelle brings the water from the well The cool clear water from the well She hangs the clothes up on the line And breaks a white rose off the vine What’s running through your mind, Annabelle ? Annabelle puts the rose in her hair The snow white rose in her long brown hair She sets the bucket by the door And walks her shadow across the floor It’s your shadow nothing more, Annabelle CHORUS It’s not the black crows rising in the blue sky Thousands of them blocking out the sun It’s not blood that has dried From a lover you denied Or the unblinking eye of a gun It’s not Father or Mother and it cannot be The bottomless entrance to hell It’s only your shadow that you see No less and no more Annabelle The cold wind and the wolf howl in the woods The moon is floating face-down in the well Frozen clothes on the line Frozen roses on the vine What’s running through your mind Annabelle She walks out in the midnight white robe flowing And stares up to the sky from far below She can hear the grey wolf calling She’ll close her eyes and slowly falling Annabelle makes her angel in the snow In the glistening cathedral where only saints may go Annabelle makes her angel in the snow
4.
A Game of Swans 3:28 © 2018 Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) / Ian Lang (PRS) In northern woods the crystal snow is dusting all she sees A silent song – a game of swans floats by on winter’s breeze Towards a dream of soft warm winds Where the springtime never ends And the fields of clover bloom In a blanket of white beneath the moon On fighting fields he rests between the battle and the bell He dreams of bright blue heaven but he wakes up into hell Take him far away from here To where the springtime never ends And the fields of clover bloom In a blanket of white beneath the moon At Four Lane End a compass points to the bright North Star above The hopes and fears from down the years are never quite enough A tale begins - the pages turn The Winter ends – the Spring returns And the fields of clover bloom In a blanket of white beneath the moon Time is art – the future never waits On dusty books or dreamers at the gate Let us sail away from here Take what’s best and keep it near To a place where time begins And the dreams of lovers never end Let us sail away from here Take what’s best and hold it dear To the place where time begins And the dreams of lovers never end
5.
Fire In The Hole (Pat Long) Cold December in MarionCounty Black coal blocking out the sun Four miles deep in Dogwood Flats Mountain Down in Number 21 CHORUS Fire in the Hole Fire in the Hole Fire in the Hole The earth will bargain for her coal Just after noon they heard the thunder A sudden flash of flame Thirteen miners lay lost down under For the mountain to reclaim CHORUS Cold December in MarionCounty Waiting for the word But there’s no answer from Dogwood Flats Mountain Now there’s nothing to be heard CHORUS
6.
1 - 2 - 3 04:14
1 - 2 - 3 © 2018 Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) I think I’ll listen to an old familiar song tonight Katy M is “Walking on the Moon” Townes is singing ‘bout the snow up in the Pass And I wonder is it “Snowin’ On Raton”? CHORUS 1 And it’s 1 - 2 – 3 … then it’s A - B - C Simple as can be … Take time to love someone tonight And it’s 9 - 10 – 11 … if you want to get to heaven Tell someone you love you love them Lend a hand to hold in the dark I went to see a man about a gun today He sold me blanks and told me never look directly at the sun If you do you’ll wind up blind or maybe deaf and dumb Put your gun up on the shelf and put yourself out for someone CHORUS 1 I think about the past and sure, it blinds me some Winds me up in knots and spits me out upon the shore Picks the meat right off my bones then suffers me to pass Into the deepest night to wait and weep and wake again once more CHORUS 2 Still it’s 1 - 2 - 3 … then it’s A - B - C Simple as can be … I want to be with you tonight And it’s 9 - 10 - 11 … If I ever get to heaven It’ll be within your arms and your hand reaching out in the dark
7.
Ice & Bone 04:22
Ice & Bone © 2018 Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) You’re asleep one room away Might as well be a galaxy For all the wasted nights alone We’re statues carved of ice and frozen bone We are strangers with a history I could never be the one you had in mind Like all the dreams of marbled stone We’re sculptures made of ice and frozen bone BRIDGE Lost trails of endless tears On windless roads of frozen ground Bare feet on broken glass Bleed deep red blood … make no sound Dust accumulates on shelves Fallen fences lean into the gloom And shadows melt among the weeds A billion tiny cracks begin to show In sculptures made of ice and frozen bone MIDDLE 8: Heaven was a hopeless dream beyond our grasp Falling like a helpless star to land at last Helpless….helpless… Dust accumulates on shelves Fallen fences lean into the gloom And shadows melt among the weeds A billion tiny cracks begin to show In sculptures made of ice and frozen bone Helpless….helpless… Helpless….helpless…
8.
White Dove 03:44
White Dove © 2018 Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) I have been burdened and laden with chains Lost in a prison without any name Locked up so long now each year seems the same But I’m gonna fly tonight When the moon turns to flame CHORUS As a White Dove I’ll fly Over water so wide and so deep Straight into your strong arms For I know they will keep me safe Into the bright morning Through the dimming of day Then you’ll watch o’er my dreaming Till again we shall wake Hard knocks and troubles have haunted my door My body is tired, it’s weak and it’s sore Climbing this mountain, I don’t know what for I think I will fly tonight When the moon lights the shore CHORUS White dove gonna fly Over water so wide and so deep Straight into your strong arms For I know they will keep me safe Into the bright morning Through the dimming of day Then you’ll watch o’er my dreaming Till again we shall wake
9.
Write Me A Letter © 2018 Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) Won’t you write me a letter? Take sealing wax and ink to paper Your hand smoothes out the page Your quill is swift, no hint of waver In your words so sweet so soft Send your boldest thoughts aloft BRIDGE Come on darlin’ thrill me Write what is on your mind Take a piece of parchment Please don’t be shy I want to see you get it on A big white sheet of paper Ink of black or blue Don’t matter really what shape or Size you use…. So please write me a letter Sealed with a kiss there’s nothing better Than a pen’s grooves in the page They’re digging out a rhyme and moving into rhythm With the words I long to see Written on this paper just for me INSTRUMENTAL I want to see you get it on A big white sheet of paper Ink of black or blue Don’t matter really what shape or Size you use…. So please write me a letter Sealed with a kiss there’s nothing better Than a pen’s grooves in the page They’re digging out a rhyme and moving into rhythm With the words I long to see Written on this paper just for me
10.
Turn The Lights Down Low © 2018 Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) Turn the lights down low And see the candle’s pale yellow glow I’m sittin' next to the picture I adore The one of you and that train upon the shore That is why….why I cry alone Once a long time ago I threw a penny in a fountain of gold And made a wish for an angel from above To take me up and bring me real love That is why…why I cry alone BRIDGE Cause the angel never came He caught his wing upon the gate And so much time it took to free himself By then it was too late And the years rolled by and time moved on He played his harp…he sang his song He thought one day he’d try again To slip the gate and answer one true prayer So, baby, turn the lights down low And feel the candle’s warm yellow glow I’m sittin’ next to the angel I adore I feel his kiss…I’ll never wish for more That is why…I don’t cry alone….any more… That is why I don’t cry alone
11.
Poor Man’s Lullaby © 2018 Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) / Gavn Sutherland (PRS) Fire & ice on the last midnight train And the wheels sing a sad lullaby The bright harbor light it shines through the rain The city is saying goodnight As a man walks alone down to the tracks Faith and hope in his grip And a star in the sky finds a tear in his eye As he takes just one last trip CHORUS Good Night, old friend It’s been good to know ye Where will you be restin’ tonight ? Oh, good night, old friend Hey, it’s been good to know yaFarewell my friend, Good Night So let those wheels roll just one more time Like they did for us way back when And we’ll raise a glass to the times gone by Until we meet again CHORUS Oh, Good Night, old friend It’s been good to know ye Where will you be restin’ tonight ? Oh, good night, old friend It’s been good to know ya Farewell my friend, Good Night
12.

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released January 20, 2018

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Nancy K Dillon Seattle, Washington

On her albums, Nancy K. Dillon maps the road West; the dusty highways that conjure up images like Kerouac's road trips, traveling dustbowl carnivals, and free-spirited 70s hipsters. Inspired by Oklahoma & Texas troubadours Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark, and Kevin Welch, Dillon's songs are short stories about characters that populate true American life. ... more

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