What The Folk? EP

by Hatfield

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05:04
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about

Just a collection "somewhat-folk-songs"...
Recorded at home, do-it-yourself-style...

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released October 18, 2013

Words and Music by Mark Hatfield

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about

Hatfield Würzburg, Germany

Mark Hatfield from Würzburg, Germany. Folk-punking stages around the world with his trusty live-sidekick Konstantin Vey. Well, maybe not around the world. Just Germany. Come to think of it... Bavaria. OK, northern Bavaria...

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Track Name: Live Before We're Dead
hello my friend, I'm back again, I hope you're doing fine
I've been alone, away from home with troubles on my mind
caught beneath a jet-black sheet of worries, fear and doubt
but I blew a kiss and I raised a fist and I battled my way out

so make the call and tell them all the district's wide awake
let's grab a brew, pick up the crew and re-arrange our fates
'cause old guitars and ragged bars may not help pay the rent
but nights and days of restless haze will leave you burnt and bent

so gather 'round, embrace the sound of these everlasting songs
at least tonight forget the fight, join in and sing along
we've all come to help you, son, once lost but now you're found
we'll do our best, so take a rest, here's another round
let's knock it down!

so make a start and spill your heart and share your pain aloud
we'll have a beer and we'll lend an ear and we'll figure something out
now we ain't rich and life's a bitch, we struggle till we're sore
but that bitch is nice and worth the price and too short to be ignored

or at 85 you'll realize you've missed out on the fun
so raise your glass and kill it fast, the best is yet to come
there is no fate but what we make, that's what a wise man said
let's start tonight, let's do it right, let's live before we're dead

so gather 'round, embrace the sound of these everlasting songs
at least tonight forget the fight, join in and sing along
play a tune, ignite the room, plunge into the sound
propose the toast that matters most, here's another round
let's knock it down!
Track Name: Busker's Ballad
the sun is beaming hot today, the weather turned out well
if the temperatures rise any more this session could be hell
but none of that should matter, 'cause we're ready for the show
the streets are filled, the beer is chilled, it's time to rock 'n' roll

we zig-zag through the genres, spicing up the mix
just two fellas with guitars trying to get their kicks
punk rock for the skateboard kids, folk songs for the wise
girlie pop for all the girls who giggle walking by

people love Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash and The Stones
but no one seems to give a damn when I play one of my own
I guess that's just the way it is when you play out on the street
as long as the money covers the next round and something to eat

Johnny's "Folsom Prison Blues" and Dylan's "Rolling Stone"
tend to draw some folks in close who start to sing along
some of them will thankfully drop some of their change
into our empty "Campbells" can before they walk away

the crowd is growing slowly, requests come pouring in
sorry, sir, last time I checked flamenco was a sin
instead we play one of my own to see how well it goes
a crowd of ten decreases to a smiling 3-year-old

people love Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash and The Stones
but no one seems to give a damn when I play one of my own
I guess that's just the way it is when you play out on the street
as long as the money covers the next round and something to eat

people love Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash and The Stones
but no one seemed to give a damn when I played one of my own
that's ok, I peeked into our can out on the street
it was fun and the money will buy us
another beer and something to eat
Track Name: Rhymin'
seven in the morning, working on a song
the words ain't rhymin', everything sounds wrong
head ache's getting worse now, body's feeling sore
passed out on the couch the night before

the last days weren't easy, some of them quite tough
said some things that came out kinda rough
you were going crazy, I was on my way
we couldn't find the proper words to say

I guess this happens now and then
I know we'll pull through in the end
times like these will help us see
if anything should rhyme it's you and me

we've been dodging troubles, running strong for years
but at the moment, we're just grinding gears
sorry for the silence, sorry for the tears
sorry for the lack of both while listening to your fears

I hate to see the sadness locked inside those eyes
the tear-jerk frowns and suicidal sighs
we came back with a vengence last time that we fell
we've worked too hard to let this go to hell

cross my heart and hope to die
we'll re-ignite that long lost smile
right next to you is where I'll be
'cause if anything should rhyme it's you and me

beer can days and back seat nights
cars and trains and red-eye flights
gigs and shows throughout the land
you and me going hand in hand

zombie flicks and cheap-ass wine
midday strolls and lazy-time
no one else will rhyme like you
no one else will ever do
Track Name: Twelve Twenty-Two
twelve twenty-two, here's to you
last train home, roll along
past the smokestacks of the power plant
through the darkness of this nightly land
twelve twenty-two, thank God for you

your three-piece light will pierce the night
tracks ablaze through misty haze
move it steady down the line
get me home and I'll be fine
twelve twenty-two, thank God for you

every car has it's scars
they ride along till they get home
the hipsters, the punks, the junkies, the drunks
the lovers, the weepy, the night hawks, the sleepy
the ganster crew, the rich-kid brew
the plain-clothes cop, the uniformed jock
twelve twenty-two, thank God for you

she'll wait for me, most patiently
lost in dreams, so it seems
I'll kiss her gently on the head
help her up and into bed
twelve twenty-two, thank God for you

tomorrow morn' I'll be worn
there's no debate, it's far too late
my teenage years died long ago
the lack of sleep will take its toll
twelve twenty-two, thank God for you

next time I'll run to catch the eleven o one