You Bother Me
©1984 Andrew Calhoun, recorded on Walk Me to the War. This is a new recording from 2018.
How you bother me, you b-b-bother me,
Whenever I come see, you you b-bother me
A hundred years or more, this fence has settled here,
Dug out with dynamite and sweat that flowed like beer;
Was a husband, wife and son, and when the work was done,
There was no more to do, there was no money here.
A thousand years or more, our neighbors worked these hills,
They built the walls and dikes, them made the wheels and mills;
Was not for power they grew crops in rocks and clay,
But just to make their way, they bent their tools and wills.
A hundred thousand years, we lived in huts and caves,
There were no masters then, there were no saints nor slaves;
By any flowing stream, lay you down and dream,
Hear the messiah rave, hear the messiah rave.
A million years ago, we hung around in trees,
We fled the clutching claws, we fought the floods and bees;
Up rose a spider's head, we join the living dead,
We long to bite the leaves again, we long to bite the leaves.
The molting mystery, the old monotony,
The stony statue of your family;
Some tribal map in time, some deep and quiet crime,
One unlit memory, one unlit memory.
The bleating bird sings on, the days are here and gone,
The bird shall die, but the song goes on;
My days are numbered here, I broke a plate somewhere,
Made a trip to London, made a trip to London.