Puting tear in my eyes.

[johnny k]

i might not have the same sensibility as most people, but there we go.


In our orchard stands a tree, it provides for all who need
It's shade cools us in the heat, it houses jaybirds that sing us asleep
My Great-Grandfather knew it's strength, he hung himself from a limb and our
Tree did not break

Thy Will Be Done

On our east side grow our fields, every season their harvest yields
We've alfalfa, flax, and maize, it has lasted through our days
When the rains fall sinkholes occur, my Uncle found one and got crushed
Beneath our best tractor

Thy Will Be Done

Thy Will Be Done, Thy Will Be Done!

Our west acres hold a lake, from this fountain fish we take
It does water all our land, teach our children it's goodness -- they understand
In the winter it does freeze, my daughter went skating too close to the coming
Of spring


Another one is neil young's powderfinger


Look out, mama, there's a white boat comin' up the river
With a big red beacon and a flag- and a man on the rail
I think you'd better call Big John, 'cause it don't look like they're here to deliver-
The mail
And it's less than a mile away
I hope that they didn't come to stay
It's got numbers on the side, and a gun- and it's makin' big waves
Daddy's gone, my brother's huntin' up in the mountains
Big John's been drinkin' since the river took Emmy-Lou
So the powers that be left me here to do the thinkin'
And I just turned twenty-two
I was wondering what to do
The closer they got, the more those feelings grew
Daddy's rifle in my hand felt reassurin'
He said, "Red means run, son. Numbers add up to nothin'"
But when the first shot hit the dock, I saw it comin'
I held my rifle to my eye
Never stopped to wonder why
Then I saw black- and my face splashed in the sky
Shelter me from the powder and the finger
Cover me with the thought that pulled the trigger
Just think of me as the one you've never figured
That'd fade away so young
With so much left undone
Remember me to my love, I know I'll miss her

A tear to the eye. A bunch of them. Can you spare a hankey ?

 

[telleutelleme]

I think Strange Fruit will always top the list.

 

[buster poser]

I think Strange Fruit will always top the list.

In the same vein, that one that ends with “bury they rag deep in your face, now’s the time for your tears;” gets me every time.

 

[SuprHtr]

One I love that’s about the death of a relationship is Dave Alvin’s Fourth of July. I only knew the version that X played until recently.

 

[Fiesta Red]

Joe Ely’s “Gallo del Cielo” from the Letter to Laredo album.

Yes, a song about a fighting rooster makes me tear up.

 

[Killing Floor]

Love Dog by TV on the Radio

Lonely little love dog that
No one knows the name of
I know why you cry out
Desperate and devout
Timid little tether
Your eyes set on the ether
Your moon in a bella luna and
Howling hallelujah
Nameless you above me
Come lay me low and love me
This lonely little love dog
That no one knows the name of
Curse me out in free verse
Wrap me up and reverse this
Patience is a virtue
Until it's silence burns you
And something slow
Has started in me as
Shameless as an ocean
Mirrored in devotion
Something slow
Has sparked up in me
As dog cries for a master
Sparks are whirling faster
Lonely little love dog
That no one knows the ways of
Where the land is low is
Where the bones'll show through
Lonely little love dog
That no one knows the days of
Where the land is low is
Where the water flows to
And holds you

 

[notmyusualuserid]

In the same vein, that one that ends with “bury they rag deep in your face, now’s the time for your tears;” gets me every time.

Dylan, The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll

 

[Silent Otto]

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitche Gumee...

 

[johnny7]

Long Black Veil does it for me. :

Ten years ago, on a cold dark night
There was someone killed 'neath the town hall light
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the man who ran looked a lot like me

The judge said, "Son what is your alibi?
If you were somewhere else then you won't have to die"
I spoke not a word though it meant my life
For I had been in the arms of my best friend's wife

She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me

The scaffold is high, and eternity nears
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
But sometimes at night when the cold wind mourns
In a long black veil she cries over my bones

She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me, nobody knows but me, nobody knows but me

 

[pixeljammer]

Another one is neil young's powderfinger

This versions seems saddest to me.

 

[MarkieMark]

Irony.
I was listening to 'Little Sadie' just a few minutes ago on my ride home.

But there's lots of examples in the music I favor. Murder, Hanging, you know. Happy songs.
Apparently, there was a time when a girl might think twice about refusing a marriage proposal anyway, lest she might meet her fate in a lake, river, get shot, you know, by an understanding beau...

Heres another classic happy ending kinda story for ya.

 

[Frontier9]

From Kasey Chamber's first album.
A young woman in a one horse town trying to find solace as she grows up and finds life was not what she expected... taking comfort where she can find it - behind the wheel of a car.
Gets me right here, you know?

 

[String Tree]

Another one is neil young's powderfinger


Look out, mama, there's a white boat comin' up the river
With a big red beacon and a flag- and a man on the rail
I think you'd better call Big John, 'cause it don't look like they're here to deliver-
The mail
And it's less than a mile away
I hope that they didn't come to stay
It's got numbers on the side, and a gun- and it's makin' big waves
Daddy's gone, my brother's huntin' up in the mountains
Big John's been drinkin' since the river took Emmy-Lou
So the powers that be left me here to do the thinkin'
And I just turned twenty-two
I was wondering what to do
The closer they got, the more those feelings grew
Daddy's rifle in my hand felt reassurin'
He said, "Red means run, son. Numbers add up to nothin'"
But when the first shot hit the dock, I saw it comin'
I held my rifle to my eye
Never stopped to wonder why
Then I saw black- and my face splashed in the sky
Shelter me from the powder and the finger
Cover me with the thought that pulled the trigger
Just think of me as the one you've never figured
That'd fade away so young
With so much left undone
Remember me to my love, I know I'll miss her

A tear to the eye. A bunch of them. Can you spare a hankey ?

Buddy Blue's version knocked that song out of the Park!
God Rest his Rambling Soul.

 

[Flat6Driver]

Mr Jones by Big AL Dowling

"
He was an old black country farmer
Driving home another load of hay
When he came upon an accident on a lonely county highway
He could hear a baby cryin'
See the folks as they lay dyin'
And a mother said with her final breath;
"The baby has no kin, won't you please take him in
Give him love and give him all your best."
So he took him to the big house
Where he worked as a sharecropper
From that day on he never was alone
And when the little white boy
Cut his hand from pickin' berries
He came runnin', cryin', to Mr. Jones.
I'm in trouble, come and get me Mr. Jones
You're the only one to help me in this world, I'm so alone
Yes, I love you and I need you, Mr. Jones
I'm in trouble, come and get me, Mr. Jones.
He grew up and got in trouble
With the law and on the double
Soon his name was known throughout the land
He robbed a bank in Dallas
Killed a man in Oklahoma
Each time he'd take the phone up in his hand.
Each time the County Sheriff stopped by
A part of Mr. Jones would die
And from his eyes the tears began to run
And he began to pray
That he'd live to see the day
He'd hold the boy, he raised up like a son.
(SPOKEN)
One Saturday night as he lay in jail
For fighting and just raisin' hell
That Sunday morning, he picked up the phone
And as the phone was ringin'
Back home in church, a choir was singin'
I'M GOIN' HOME, for Mr. Jones.
And when the choir stopped singin'
That telephone just kept on ringin'
And they slowly laid Mr. Jones to rest
And there are those that say;
Mr. Jones, he passed away, of a broken heart
And just plain unhappiness.
(It's too late, he's goin' home)
Come and get me Mr. jones
(It's too late, he's goin' home)
Mr. Jones, please pick up the telephone
(It's too late, he's goin' home)
Mr. Jones, I need you, Mr. jones
(It's too late, they're goin' home)
Hey, open this jail, I wanna go home, I wanna go home
(It's too late, he's goin' home)
Somethin' must have happened to Mr. Jones. (It's too late, they're goin' home)
Mr. Jones, come and get me, Mr. Jones.

 

[Brent Hutto]

I'd like to see my native home
The lofty trees, the golden sand
The rugged hills all crowded round
My mother's voice how sweet would sound

Sometimes I dream of home and friends
My dreams are false my heart is rent
And when I wake I'm all alone
My dreams are false my friends are gone

 

[dkmw]

Mr Jones by Big AL Dowling

"
He was an old black country farmer
Driving home another load of hay
When he came upon an accident on a lonely county highway
He could hear a baby cryin'
See the folks as they lay dyin'
And a mother said with her final breath;
"The baby has no kin, won't you please take him in
Give him love and give him all your best."
So he took him to the big house
Where he worked as a sharecropper
From that day on he never was alone
And when the little white boy
Cut his hand from pickin' berries
He came runnin', cryin', to Mr. Jones.
I'm in trouble, come and get me Mr. Jones
You're the only one to help me in this world, I'm so alone
Yes, I love you and I need you, Mr. Jones
I'm in trouble, come and get me, Mr. Jones.
He grew up and got in trouble
With the law and on the double
Soon his name was known throughout the land
He robbed a bank in Dallas
Killed a man in Oklahoma
Each time he'd take the phone up in his hand.
Each time the County Sheriff stopped by
A part of Mr. Jones would die
And from his eyes the tears began to run
And he began to pray
That he'd live to see the day
He'd hold the boy, he raised up like a son.
(SPOKEN)
One Saturday night as he lay in jail
For fighting and just raisin' hell
That Sunday morning, he picked up the phone
And as the phone was ringin'
Back home in church, a choir was singin'
I'M GOIN' HOME, for Mr. Jones.
And when the choir stopped singin'
That telephone just kept on ringin'
And they slowly laid Mr. Jones to rest
And there are those that say;
Mr. Jones, he passed away, of a broken heart
And just plain unhappiness.
(It's too late, he's goin' home)
Come and get me Mr. jones
(It's too late, he's goin' home)
Mr. Jones, please pick up the telephone
(It's too late, he's goin' home)
Mr. Jones, I need you, Mr. jones
(It's too late, they're goin' home)
Hey, open this jail, I wanna go home, I wanna go home
(It's too late, he's goin' home)
Somethin' must have happened to Mr. Jones. (It's too late, they're goin' home)
Mr. Jones, come and get me, Mr. Jones.

that’s the one