Order 3 or more physical items and get 1¢ postal shipping
Scott Simpson | Live in the Black Hills

Go To Artist Page

Recommended if You Like
Eddie Vedder Gregory Alan Isakov John Prine

More Artists From
United States - South Dakota

Other Genres You Will Love
Folk: Singer/Songwriter Folk: Fingerstyle Moods: Solo Male Artist
There are no items in your wishlist.

Live in the Black Hills

by Scott Simpson

Singer-Songwriter Scott Simpson brings the essence of the simple folk song: a voice, a guitar and a story to tell. These live studio recordings are simple, unpretentious and straight from the heart of the Black Hills.
Genre: Folk: Singer/Songwriter
Release Date: 

We'll ship when it's back in stock

Order now and we'll ship when it's back in stock, or enter your email below to be notified when it's back in stock.
Continue Shopping
available for download only
Share to Google +1

To listen to tracks you will need to update your browser to a recent version.

  Song Share Time Download
clip
1. Man On the Mountain (Live)
4:09 $0.99
clip
2. People as Tall as Mountains (Live)
4:30 $0.99
clip
3. Wildflower Moon (Live)
3:20 $0.99
clip
4. A Little Late (Live)
5:56 $0.99
clip
5. A Good Man (Live)
4:13 $0.99
clip
6. Dry Creek Risin' (Live)
3:30 $0.99
clip
7. Gently (Live)
5:25 $0.99
clip
8. Home (Live)
4:09 $0.99
clip
9. Grace (Live)
3:09 $0.99
clip
10. Lovely Now (Live)
6:00 $0.99
clip
11. Signs (Live)
5:26 $0.99
clip
12. What I Got (Live)
4:21 $0.99
clip
13. Hampton Town (Live)
2:34 $0.99
clip
14. Back of Grandpa's Truck (Live)
4:05 $0.99
clip
15. Place the Flowers (Live)
4:29 $0.99
Downloads are available as MP3-320 files.

ABOUT THIS ALBUM


Album Notes
Lyrics:

Man on the Mountain

The man on the mountain
he doesn’t come down but once a week
the man on the mountain
he’ll buy his supplies and never speak
the man on the mountain
he’s too lost to find, too blinded to seek

She died in the winter
when their baby boy was barely weaned
he couldn’t even touch her—
she and the child were quarantined
and then when he lost them
he knew that he’d never see the spring

Way up there upon the mountain
the air is thin as it can be
but he wants to get as close to Heaven
as a man in Hell can ever be

You have to dig deep there
to find enough water just to drink
you have to climb higher
to find enough space just to think
but memory is painful
it only leads him to the brink

(instrumental verse)

Way up there upon the mountain
the air is thin as it can be
but he wants to be as close to Heaven
as a man in Hell could ever be

Life on the mountain,
it’s not so romantic as they say—
whether you’re banished
or you choose to go away—
if your only companions
are the ghosts of yesterday

Way up there upon the mountain
the air is thin as it can be
but he wants to be as close to Heaven
as a man in Hell could ever be

People As Tall As Mountains

There's a bird here,
It has a broke wing
And there are coyotes
On the prowl;
And there are people
Forgot how to sing,
They are broken Somehow.

There is a pine tree
Once struck by lightening
Its needles red-brown
As blood;
And there are people
As tall as mountains
Who now have fallen
Right where they stood.

There's a bird here,
It has a broke wing
And there are coyotes
On the prowl;
And there are people
Forgot how to sing,
They are broken Somehow.
There is a pine tree
Once struck by lightening
Its needles red-brown
As blood;
And there are people
As tall as mountains
Who now have fallen
Right where they stood.
They have fallen…
They have fallen,
Right where we stood.

Wildflower Moon

The birds are singing
And the rabbits play
Down by the waterside
Looking for love, looking for love

My love lives in a Hickory house
Down by Buffalo Gap
She’s so sweet all the maple trees
Won’t give up their sap

Hi, ho don’t you know
She’s my little wildflower
You can’t make pone
From store-bought meal
And you can’t get shine
Without sour

Come on up to the Hills with me
Springtime full in bloom
Sun so bright you’ll close your eyes
Rest your mind by the light of a
wildflower moon

She told me I was her true love
I asked her how I’d know
She said all the other pretty fellers she knew
Was a bit more kin than beau

(refrain)

Now she has a coon hat, fits her fine
Wears it down to the church
Yeah, she’s got a spirit rough as a oak
And a soul as white as a birch

(refrain)(chorus)

Now some grow broad and some grow tall
And some grow just plain wild
But you’ll always grow needles on a white-pine tree
And thorns on a wildflower child
(refrain) (chorus)

A Little Late

If I was a horse, I’d let you ride me down to the sea
If I was a dove, I’d collect every olive branch I could see
If I was a whirlwind, I’d steal the smoke from these city skies
If I was God, I’d crash your party with no disguise
With no disguise, with no disguise,
I’d crash your party with no disguise.

If I was a salesman, I’d sell you all of this for $19.99
If I was a teacher, there’d be no child, no child left behind
And if I won the lottery, well, I’d retire and move down to the beach
If you want to save yourself, you must enter two by two and each by each
Oh each by each, each by each,
Yeah, you have to enter two by two and each by each

Oh, but I am not a horse, you’re gonna have to find your own ride down to the sea
And even if I was a dove, tell me who the hell’s gonna listen to me?
Gonna take more than a Texas spring tornado just to clean up these dirty city skies
And God’s been here all along, among us, we just plugged our ears and covered up our eyes
Yeah, we covered up our eyes, covered up our eyes, yeah,
We just plugged our ears and covered up our eyes.

Yeah, yeah, yeah… (instrumental)

So get away from me with your sales pitch—I already got everything that I need
I’ve always been a teacher, yeah, it just takes time and patience to germinate the seed
And someone always wins the Lotto, and ten thousand others always lose
When the water’s up above your neck, it’s a little late, a little late to choose…
Too late to choose, too late to choose
Too late to choose, oh, can it be…
Don’t need a horse, you don’t need a horse, yeah
You don’t need a horse, cause here comes the sea
Here comes the sea, here comes the sea
Here comes the sea…

(repeat to end)

A Good Man

David was a golden boy
his mamma’s only son
he’d pull his Converse high-tops on
and man, could David run.
Growing up south Arkansas
in 1952
free-throws and picture shows—
what more could a good boy do?
What more could a good boy do?

He never ran for president
his name was known by few
but everywhere that David went
well, he’d have some time for you.
What else would a good boy do?

David went to college
and he found himself a wife
got a job in Memphis
settled down into his life.
Their first child was a big surprise
right out of the blue
of course, he named him David
what else would a good boy do?
What else would a good boy do?

He never made a fortune
leastwise, that I knew
but he wrapped his family in his arms
and loved them strong and true.
What else would a good man do?

They say a good man’s hard to find
I reckon that it’s true—
and if that job paid any better
there wouldn’t be so few.
So here’s to all the good boys,
every mother’s son
lace up your high-tops lads
long may you run.
Long may you run.

He could have done most anything—
spread his wings and flew
but he chose to stay here on the ground
to show his son just what to do.
What more could a good man do?

Yeah, you could have done most anything—
spread your wings and flew
but you chose to stay here on the ground
to show me what to do.
And I want to be a good man just like you.
I want to be a good man just like you.

Dry Creek Rising

I was sound asleep when the water did come
And the clouds broke open like a big bass drum
Well, my little tin roof made a rumbling sound
And I looked out the window, Lord, we’re gonna drown
Dry Creek a-risin’
Never seen it before
Dry Creek a-risin’
Gonna grab the children
Kick out the door
Head for high ground
And pray to the Lord

The horses in the pasture ain’t too good
Up to their withers in thick red mud
Headed down stream toward the reservoir
But with that barbed fence, they won’t make it that far
Dry Creek a-risin’
That wasn’t in the cards
Dry Creek a-risin’
Well, you make your plans
Work real hard
But that Devil lives
In your own back yard

(Instrumental)

There’s an old red pickup and it’s upside down
And a propane tank from clear ‘cross town
What’s yours is mine, what’s mine is yours
But there ain’t much left worth nothin’ no more.
Dry Creek a-risin’
You’d best open your eyes
Dry Creek a-risin’
I’ll tell you no lies
Dry Creek a-risin’
Take you by surprise
Dry Creek a-risin’
May come from the ground
May come from the sky
Don’t hold too tight
You’re gonna kiss it goodbye

Gently

The poet said that life was just a dream.
He was talking to me.
The poet said that life was like a stream.
He was talking to me.

And so you row your boat
on gently down the stream
even when
you think you're gonna scream
because you know
that life is just a dream.

Well, Jack and Jill were best of friends.
He would follow her and she would follow him
anywhere...
up the hill, they were thirsty.

But Jacky lost his footing
and tumbled down the hill.
Right behind him
came his Jill.
They went up thirsty,
they're thirsty still.
They're thirsty still.

Little boy, why do you look so blue?
It seems to me you've got nothin' to do
but dream...
sleep, and dream of sheep.

The sheep are in the meadow,
the cows are in the corn.
All the people
seem so forlorn.
So leave your dreams,
come blow your horn,
come blow your horn.

And so you row your boat
on gently down the stream
even when
you think you're gonna scream
because you know
that life is just a dream.

Home

We moved to town on a Monday
The house was empty and so were we;
We ordered pizza from a man on the phone.
This town ain’t bad, but it ain’t home.

I took my daughter to a brand new school,
New faces, new rules; on the playground,
She was all alone.
This town ain’t bad, but it sure ain’t home.

And the wind will blow
Catch the dreams we sow
Steal us far away...
Far away from home.

Don’t know the names of the streets I drive
Can’t find my house, don’t know why
Some people want to be a rollin’ stone.
No, this town ain’t so bad, but it sure ain’t home.

(instrumental verse and chorus)

We wake up between strange walls,
We get up and we pace the halls,
Try to remember why we ever set out to roam,
Pray the good Lord’s gonna bring us home...
We pray the good Lord’s gonna bring us on back home.

And the wind will blow
Catch the dreams we sow
Steal us far away...
Steal us on back home.
And the wind will blow
And catch the dreams we sow
Steal us far away
Go on, steal us on back home.


Grace

She's a born again believer
Her grandpa preached the Word
Her momma slaves every Saturday night
On a potluck Sunday bird
She wore down my excuses
Inviting me to church
Those eyes were blue as Jordan's shore
I had a wilderness of thirst

She says love's a gift from Heaven
For the poor and down-trod
No matter what I've been before
I'll find grace in the eyes of God
But the thing she don't yet realize
Is the beauty that turned my face
On the blessed day that I met her
I found God in the eyes of Grace

Well, the pews are hard and wooden
And the sermon, monotone
But there ain't a Lord's Day morning
You're gonna find me at home
Yeah, she's right there beside me
And her momma's on the other side
And I'm praising the Lord for amazing Grace
Man, that ain't no lie

She says love's a gift from Heaven
For the poor and down-trod
No matter what I've been before
I'll find grace in the eyes of God
But the thing she don't yet realize
Is the beauty that turned my face
On the blessed day that I met her
I found God in the eyes of Grace

It's a hard row to be plowing
Between a woman and the Lord
Most days it seems like I'm lying to both
Though I haven't said a word
One day I hope she'll see me
As more than a soul to save
Until that day I'll just carry on
And pray to God to give me Grace

She says love's a gift from Heaven
For the poor and down-trod
No matter what I've been before
I'll find grace in the eyes of God
But the thing she don't yet realize
Is the beauty that turned my face
On the blessed day that I met her
I found God in the eyes of Grace

One day I hope she'll realize
The beauty that turned my face
On the blessed day that I met her
I found God in the eyes of Grace

Lovely Now

I worked as hard as anyone could do
I worked for them, I even worked for you,
Am I lovely now, tell me, am I lovely now?

I felt as useful as any tool,
Just fold me up next to the carpenter’s rule
Am I lovely now, tell me, am I lovely now?

Whose field is this?
Whose sunshine and whose rain?
Whose plot is this?
Whose plow and whose pain?
Oh, would you cut me now?
Is that the marketable plan?
Even the mower
Sometimes lets the lily stand.

Birds conspire with the summer clouds
No bottom line, no cheering crowds…
Am I lovely now, tell me, am I lovely now?
(whistling)
Am I lovely now, tell me, am I lovely now?

Whose field is this?
Whose sunshine and whose rain?
Whose plot is this?
Whose plow and whose pain?
Oh, would you cut me now?
Is that the marketable plan?
Even the mower
Sometimes lets the lily stand.

Some need to bloom, others need to sing
But the sweetest work is in the Being
In the Being, in the Being,
Being Now…

Whose field is this?
Whose sunshine and whose rain?
Whose plot is this?
Whose plow and whose pain?
Oh, would you cut me now?
Is that the marketable plan?
‘Cause even the mower
Sometimes lets the lily stand.
Signs

I went down to New Mexico
with my father and my little girl
it was unreal and it was dreamlike
it was like another world of enchantment
--just like they say on the signs.

It was rainy and it was gray all across the Rockies
I drove the pickup truck my father slept a lot--
he’s getting older now, so am I, so am I
And my daughter, well, she isn’t little anymore…
she’s seventeen and riding behind these two old men
in the back seat with her headphones
and we’re stopping once again for a bathroom
and another cup of coffee.

And my father knows how painful life can be
so we just talk about the signs we pass along the way
but he reaches across the front seat to put his hand on my neck
and he rubs it, just like he did when I was just twenty-one
and my fiancée broke up with me and I was on the run from myself,
or at least who I thought I was gonna be,
who I thought I was gonna be…

So we drop off my daughter with her sleeping bag and her guitar
for two weeks at camp, and there’s laughing kids and there’s cars
and there’s parents and they’re huggin’ their children
and the sun finally begins to shine…
And we are what we are, not what we were gonna be
and the road stretches from bathroom to cup of coffee
and my father and I, we trade off driving and sleeping
and he rubs my neck, and I rub his
and we can see all the peaks this time
all back through Colorado--
it’s so full of color
--just like they say on all the signs

it’s so full of color
--just like they say on all the signs,
on all the signs.

What I Got

I’m the poet without a pen,
and the priest who can’t hear God;
I’m the dancer with two clubfeet,
and the farmer who can’t break the sod,
yeah, I’m the farmer who can’t break the sod.

Mine’s the wagon with square wheels,
and the house without a door;
my only hat doesn’t fit my head,
and my feet won’t touch the floor,
no, my feet never touch the floor.

I got the key that fits no lock,
and the kite that has no tail;
I got sand when I needed a rock,
and a plan that’s already failed.
If I lost all my teeth but two,
they’d be both on the bottom side;
If I played hide-n-seek with a blind man,
I’d still have no place to hide,

because, some folks get the short end;
I’ve never even seen the stick.
Well, you might feel some sympathy
if you saw the wounds I sometimes lick.

My true love said goodbye to me
on the day before we met;
the life I dreamed was stillborn,
but I ain’t through with dreaming yet.
See, I set out to touch the moon,
but I couldn’t get past the sea;
then the moon, she danced across the waves—
that night she came to me,
I sang, and the moon, she danced with me.

(instrumental)

It ain’t about how you bargain,
it’s what you give when the rest will not.
It’s an empty hand and an open heart
when the song is all you’ve got,
yeah, this song is what I’ve got,
oh, my song is what I’ve got.

‘Cause the poem don’t need the pen,
and the priest, he can’t speak for God.
You gotta dance as graceful as you can
‘till they lay you down in the sod—
no, I’m not afraid ‘cause I know, some day,
gonna lay me down,
gonna lay me down to rest in the sod.

Hampton Town

If you’re a traveling man then listen here
a stranger alone has cause for fear
if you go down to Hampton, watch your back
or it’s tar and a-feather and don’t come back
or you’re wearing a rope without no slack
you’ll be swinging like taters in a gunny sack…
if you go down to Hampton, watch your back

Well, the Sheriff, they just call him Jed
grease his palm, he’ll turn his head
‘less a man like you is toting cash,
best make your visit, make it fast
your luck’s gonna run out in a flash
them Hampton folk don’t take to “trash”
‘less a man like you is toting cash

Sometimes I want to kiss the ground
for the good folk God done spread around
but I’d burn my boots and settle down
‘fore I’d step a foot in Hampton town

(instrumental verse)

Sometimes I want to kiss the ground
for the good folk God done spread around
but I’d burn my boots and settle down
‘fore I’d step a foot in Hampton town

You see, I had a girl sometime ago
was the sweetest thing you’d ever know
but she went down to Hampton and never came out
yeah, they twisted her nearly inside-out
she forgot what love is all about
now she’s a Hampton girl, ain’t no doubt
yeah, she went down to Hampton and never came out

Sometimes I want to kiss the ground
for the good folk God done spread around
but I’d burn my boots and settle down
‘fore I’d step a foot in Hampton town
Sometimes I want to kiss the ground
for the good folk God done spread around
but I’d burn my boots and settle down
‘fore I’d step a foot in Hampton town


In the Back of Grandpa’s Truck

In the back of Grandpa’s truck
I learned the taste of wind
With him behind the wheel
I’ll jump in the back again
It’s a long road to follow
And night is coming ‘round
But Grandpa’s been this way before
And he’s never let me down

Up on Grandpa’s mountain
I learned to shoot a gun
Down behind the bluffs
Where the snakes all catch the sun
It was his daddy’s weapon
‘Til he passed it on to me
The stock in my hands
Felt like part of the family tree

He’s looking both directions
Out ahead and back behind
He maps the past with stories
Marks the trail with his advice
Sometimes I get the wanderlust
But I’m afraid to trust my luck
Well, I know I won’t get lost
If I’m in the back of Grandpa’s truck

Well, it’s flannel in the winter
And jeans all year ‘round
It’s boots and gloves for workin’
A little bit of coffee to wash it down
His tools are in the toolbox
And his guns are on the wall
But his faith is in the good Lord
Watching over us all
Yes, his faith is in the good Lord
Watching over us all

He’s looking both directions
Out ahead and back behind
He maps the past with stories
Marks the trail with his advice
Sometimes I get the wanderlust
But I’m afraid to trust my luck
Well, I know I won’t get lost
If I’m in the back of Grandpa’s truck
I know I won’t get lost
If I’m in the back of Grandpa’s truck

I’m gonna put him behind the wheel
And jump in the back again

Place the Flowers

Place the flowers in water
throw some seed out for the birds
stop to hear the children’s laughter
work a kind thought into words
into words

We are only here a moment
but a moment’s all you need

Watch the sun climb up the mountain
see the mist rise from the lake
catch something flash beneath the surface
know something hidden can awake
can awake

We are only here a moment
but a moment’s all you need

Go walking in the moonlight
ancient wisdom in her glow
tiny sparks that leave the campfire
burn so bright before they go
but they must go

We are only here a moment
but a moment’s all you need

You can never reap the harvest
till you pause to plant the seed


Copyright 2014, Scott Simpson
All Rights Reserved

Read more...

Reviews


to write a review