My Name's Hardin

by Television Hill

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1.
Now, I road into town on the west Texas wind just a teeming with pride. Then, I buffaloed Bill with the old “border roll,” in the blink of an eye. He said, “Son, keep your back to the old Apple Jack, and a colt at your side, And be ready to ride.” Well, I’ll tell you young man, that my plow handle hand is a faster than light. And I killed my first man at the age of fifteen and I may kill tonight. I’ll not make for quick work, I assure you good sir, although many have tried. So, be ready to ride. Oh, Miss Bowen’s my buxom young raven-haired beauty, I bid her to bride. I said, “Janie, I know where your wagon is going, and I’ll be your guide. Once that Big Brazos River shakes Quaker from quiver, just steady your stride, And be ready to ride. Are you ready to ride?” I was shuffled in shackles to Huntsville Hotel; I was fit to be tied. Go on, throw me back down in the hole, Cap, and I’ll sure be happy to hide. I’ve been waiting to make my courageous escape, ‘til the graces preside, Then, I’m ready ride. Are you ready to ride? Ready to ride.
2.
I'd acquired me two bright aces When I spied ol' Charlie Webb He was barely maybe seven paces With twice a mind to shoot me dead We went out to Webb in numbers Lucky bastard won the draw Creased my side but I cried thunder Sent him to that yunner shore Oh, now Charlie, What the hell d'ya have ta go an’ do that for? Now, I’m on top of ROUND MOUNTAIN ROUND MOUNTAIN Won’t come down When I ride to MEET MY MAKER Bury me on mountain ground Jimmy Hardin was a preacher Tried to teach me right from wrong But I's a wild-eyed feral creature Wudn't gonna take me long I head up into the country Cousin's stuck around instead Rangers strung 'em up like injuns And twiced the price upon my head Now, I won’t stop ‘til all Brown County’s painted red! ‘Cause, I’m on top of ROUND MOUNTAIN ROUND MOUNTAIN Won’t come down When I ride to MEET MY MAKER Bury me on mountain ground
3.
Ain’t no reason Ain’t no rhyme Just an empty change of seasons Underneath an April sky And I been beached in Pensacola For Geronimo knows why Beg your pardon My name's Hardin Best go on and tell ol' Bobby I’ll be stoppin' by And, no, I never shot a single soul That ain't deserved to die Come on baby Maybe you can save me Go on and lay thee down beside me Right before I die ‘Cause I been sittin' in Fort Pickens Just the Livingstons and I
4.
instrumental
5.
My Dearest Darlin’, Your husband’s fallen Into the devilishly dangerous arms of the Rangers again. And, I don’t know how long these cold irons will be on. My wings have been charmed and my pistols are gone. It’s disaster. My Dearest Darlin’, How grows your garden? It seems that your words they are deep in throws of the westerly wind. And, I don’t know how long ‘til they’ll have me back home. To huddle beside you, I’d offer my bones Back to Castor. My Dearest Darlin’, There’ll be no pardon. Looks like the Warden, he’s wishin’ to keep me in here for a while. But, I don’t know how long I can waste between walls. No, I’ll taste no more pastry, and place no more calls As your Master. My Dearest Darlin’, Your husband’s fallen Into the devilishly dangerous arms of the Rangers again.
6.
Four Sixes 05:20
The world's an oyster with nary o' pearl Around, AROUND, around Full o' choices and delicate words Around, AROUND, around Roll your Royces, I know what you heard Around, AROUND, around But I did it all fer the love of a perdy young West Texas Did it all fer the love Of a perdy young West Texas gal Emmet cross you justa cross you again Around, AROUND, around Summit toss in with ol' Avery Cann Around, AROUND, around Down El Paso blows a desperate wind Around, AROUND, around And I need that heartache right now Just like I need me a hole in my Need that heartache right now Just like I need me a hole in my head Just four sixes to beat now Henry Around, AROUND, around Fastest gunner you ever did meet Around, AROUND, around I’m still spinning on the heels of my feet Around, AROUND, around But I got me a new pony with only four lonely sixes Got me a new pony now With only four lonely sixes to beat

credits

released February 2, 2013

Television Hill is:
Rob Wilson: lead vocals, guitar, percussion
Walker David Teret: bass, guitar, piano, percussion & vocals
Dave Heumann: guitar & vocals
David Bergander: drums, percussion & vocals
Tony Drummond: keys & organ
Recorded & Mixed by Rob Girardi at Lord Baltimore Recording
Mastered by Paul Gold at Salt Mastering, Brooklyn, NY.
Artwork by Justin Lucas
All lyrics by Rob Wilson
All music by Television Hill
All rights reserved
Friends Records FR008
Contact:
FRIENDS RECORDS
P.O. BOX 50160
BALTIMORE, MD 21211
www.friendsrecordsbaltimore.com
www.televisionhill.com

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