Live at The Royal Room

by Nancy K Dillon

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credits

released September 16, 2017

All songs written by Nancy K. Dillon (BMI) except "Annabelle" written by Nancy K. Dillon (Rose Rock Music BMI, Admin SongTrust) & John Hadley (Hadley Six Music BMI, Admin by Sony, ATV, BMI

Performers:
Nancy K. Dillon (vocals/guitar)
Lucien La Motte (electric guitar)

Engineered by Kyle Mooney (Royal Room, Seattle)

Mixed and Mastered by Ian Lang (Nursery Studios, Alsager, UK)

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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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Track Name: Last Town on the Line
Last Town On The Line
©Nancy K. Dillon 2009

Daddy's granddaddy was a trainman
Missouri-Pacific was his line
Asa started working for the union
To make a better life, make a better life,
Make a better life for the time.

'Cause life was hard for a trainman
Eighteen hours, a penny in your pocket
Back-breaking, hard-driving work, work, work
Moving that corn, moving that coal,
Gotta find a dollar, gonna patch this hole, uh-huh.

CHO: Now here I am living in the last town
Last town on the line
Nobody's going any further
It's a quiet place here, Population One
In the last town, the last town on the line.

How many hours in that train car?
How many miles did he ride?
How many nights in how many towns?
Supper by himself, missing his family and
Sweet Catherine by his side.

But there was something important he believed in
Something essential was at stake
What would Asa think if he could see it all now?
Look at what a mess, could have done better,
Lord, what a mess we can make.

Bridge: Did he happen onto Woody in a box car?
Did they talk about life and have a smoke?
Did Woody sing a couple songs before he traveled on?
My daddy's granddaddy might've fed him for a smile and a joke.
Track Name: Rustler's Moon
Rustler’s Moon
©Nancy K. Dillon 2012

Sun on my bed
Fire in the distance
Smoke on the hills
Blood moon’s on the rise
Flags at half-mast
Nobody’s listening
Lawmen are crooked
Everybody lies

It’s a Rustler’s Moon
In a ten-cent town
A Rustler’s Moon
Keep your eyes cast down
Better watch your back
As the night birds call
Gambler steals your money
And leaves you with nothing at all

Cattle on the move
Morning is breaking
Red light spreads like a soiled dove’s fan
Longhorn lightning
More souls are taken
In this endless dive through the devil’s land

Hear the sound of hooves
Crush the buffalo bones
A nightherd croons a song of home
Soon the towns will come and the fences too
But for now it’s all lies
Underneath the Rustler’s Moon

Workin’ on the Railway
Workin’ on the Red
Workin’ on the Railway
Workin’ on the bed
Workin’ on the Railway
Workin’ all alone
Workin’ on the Railway
Never goin’ home ‘cause
I ain’t dead – no, I ain’t dead
I ain’t dead – Yet anyway
Yet anyway – Yet anyway
Huh !

Who can you trust ?
All the politicians
Only tell you what they must
As the treaties ink dries
Two-toned two-timing
Silver-tongued devils
Snicker in their sleep
As the buffalo die

And the train wheels roll
‘Neath a Rustler’s Moon
Her tear drops roll
She’ll see San Francisco soon
In her widow’s weeds and her finery
A Rustler’s Moon
Left her with nothing to seek

Workin’ on the Railway
Workin’ on the Red
Workin’ on the Railway
Workin’ on the bed
Workin’ on the Railway
Linin’ in the track
Workin’ on the Railway
Never comin’ back cause
I ain’t dead – I ain’t dead
No I ain’t dead – yet anyway
Huh !
Track Name: Louisville 1910
Louisville 1910
© Nancy K. Dillon 2014

1) It was 1910 - the 10 Days War
Colorado winter blowin’ in their door
Silver bullets – red blood – white snow
She lost her man before the winter snows…..were o’er

2) He was born without a compass or a need to be saved
Within the sound of Freedom’s name
Running on empty all the way to the grave
Listening to the whistle of the train

CHO: And the church bells rang as we walked those hills
Among the stones - the angels fallen to the ground
It’s a long long way to Louisville
It’s there my Father can be found

3) Fighting for the right to choose how to believe
The guns ring out – the people bleed
No King shall rule – no Queen conceive
Until there’s no more children we can’t feed

CHO: And the church bells rang as we walked those hills
Among the stones and angels fallen to the ground
A cold cold wind blows in Louisville
It’s there my Father can be found.

3) In the Colorado Coal Fields, the men left the mines
They came above to strike - to fight
Hundreds of them slaughtered by the CF&I
Just for tryin’ to make conditions right

CHO: And the church bells rang as we walked those hills
Among the stones - the angels fallen to the ground
The train’s last stop’s in Louisville…..
It’s there my Father can be found.

[Father’s Day 2014]
Track Name: Annabelle
ANNABELLE
©Nancy K. Dillon / John Hadley

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.

CHO: 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 the Father or the 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
Track Name: All The Pretty America
All The Pretty America
© Nancy K. Dillon 2009

All the pretty America lies in ashes at my feet
All the pretty America
Has up and gone to sleep
When will she wake?
Who knows the score?
How long does it take to learn that less
Might just be more?

All the pretty America has packed her bags and fled
She’s off to join the carnival
In England or France someone said
On wings of desire
She flies through the night
An artiste trapeze on the breeze she swings
Balanced just right

All the pretty America dreams of you tonight
Please send her your brightest angels
To help her set things right
As she shapes a new dawn
The night falls away
Send all your bright hopes for the child
Of a tender new day

All the pretty America needs our prayers today
For strength of heart and wonder
And a lamp to light her way
Then a healing shall come
Her bandages fall
Tender scars fade to the shade of a ghost
In spite of it all

All the pretty America lies in ashes at my feet
All the pretty America
Has up and gone to sleep
When will she wake?
Track Name: O Susanna
O Susanna
©Nancy K. Dillon 2004


O Susanna, night is coming on.
Take your heart and keep it safe until the dawn.
There I go again - wanting the best for you.
There you go again - saying that we’re through.

O Susanna, stars light one by one.
This old world keeps spinning ‘round the setting sun.
There you go again - flying all apart.
There I go again - the horse before the cart.

Your wings are singed and sunburnt
While I sit like a stone.
My stillness makes you crazy.
You make me feel alone.

O Susanna, don’t you cry for me.
Tune up that old banjo, play a filigree.
Here we go again - dancing on the flame.
Here we go again - the music’s still the same.

Your wings are singed and sunburnt
While I sit like a stone.
My stillness makes you crazy.
You make me feel alone.

O Susanna, don’t you cry for me.
Tune up that old banjo, play an elegy.
Here we go again - dancing on the flame.
Here we go again - the music’s still the same.

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