Old Boots, Rusty Shovel

from by Jeff Andrew

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Old Boots, Rusty Shovel

Big trucks crashing through the bush
Chopper blades tearing at the sky
They got machines to break the land, but we plant 'em all by hand
Turn your wrist and you can hear your body cry
Freezing in a lonely tent at night
Fall in love at breakfast then you're gone
Then the sun's beating down like the Hammer of the Gods
Every day we sing the same old song:

I don't want to plant trees anymore
I don't want to cut another line
I just want to plant my last piece so I can find
Some peace of mind

Bush camps and trailer parks up north
Small towns and barges on the coast
Clearcut salmon stream, your city life's a dream
It's the little things that tear your heart the most
Ghost wind blowing down the road
Bones of the forest left to rot
Shadows of history in the cold misty dawn
I'm so tired but I don't know if I can stop


Elves dancing wild around a fire
Or in a bar singing heartsick country songs
Chop some wood, light a smoke, pull up a stump and tell a joke
Have a drink and we won't think about tomorrow
Bag 'em up and break your back out in the rain
Three thousand times every day
Boom and bust, stab and thrust, slash and burn, greed and rust
How long, O Lord, tell me how long?


from Tunnels, Treehouses & Trainsmoke, released October 29, 2013
Jeff Andrew: Guitar, Vox



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Jeff Andrew Vancouver, British Columbia

Fiddles, horns, double bass and subterranean percussion from the tunnels of East Vancouver. Songs from the road and beyond the grave.

"A backroads troubadour with a few things to say by way of viscera, nerve and hard experience...basically a raunchy Bob Dylan with blood in his teeth." - Folk & Acoustic Music Exchange
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