Written by J. Beavis
Appears on “Post-Apocalyptic Love Songs” LP, 2016. Personnel: Jimi Beavis – vocals; Chris Bancroft – tenor banjo; Cam Milne – sousaphone; Lachlan McKenzie – trumpet, trombone; Andrew Garton – horn arrangements, clarinet; Steve Robin – drums and engineered/produced/mixed.
He’d had a local woman who’d nursed her pa to death
She sewed for petty cash and prayed every day for sweet rest
She had a daughter with a drifter who never the held child at all
There were calluses on her knees and a loaded rifle in the hall
They never proved he did it, but I don’t need a smoking gun
You could tell just by looking at him that there was something quite wrong
Some say he ate meat from the horses that died on his farm
That he had two kinds of grapes growing in his vineyard
We were mistrustful of his beard for he had no moustache
And greeted every person with a smile and a laugh
Be it whores, winos, or darkies… preachers or the boy with lemonade cart
Din’t make no discrimination, seemed he couldn’t tell them apart
The girl was the prettiest thing west of McDonnell’s Crossing
Whenever they came into town, she’d skip ahead, dancing ’round
Her mother’s dresses, light as feathers
That shimmered amd floated when she ran
Her ma was quiet and kind. . . I used to drink with her pa
With a kid like that she must have had the goodness in her
He was just past 40 when he wed Mary, the girl was around 13
But he’d never been married before, if you know what I mean.
Jane the Thread found that poor girl up by Dinkler’s Field
Skirt up round the head amd her panties round her knees
He claimed innocence, they never could find anything, but we knew what it was
You can’t trust a man like that, accusing the preacher’s boys
A bastard like that changes a town, when the devil takes away his mask
Well Mary, she hanged herself in her daughter’s room
Nobody would buy his growing, Then he couldn’t farm for all the drinking
Sold it to an outer towner, been living on the streets ever since.
He lurks the streets at night begging money for wine
Keeping good folks awake with his wailing and his crying
Don’t pity him, I tell ya, won’t do any good round here
All you need to know is on his face right there in front of ya
He’s guilty where he stands.
I’m sure of that. I’m sure of that. As i am sure of anything.