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This is a song by Phill Saylor-Wisor - peerless folksinger, songwriter, guitar player and clawhammer banjoist from Stripmall Ballads and The Shiftless Rounders. I re-wrote the verses with my own stories, but the chorus and the idea are his.



The Kootenays taught me dreaming and how to fall in love
The Prairies taught me hitching and what heartache really was
The Island told me stories about clearcuts and rust
Nova Scotia taught me ballads and watch out for Sheilagh's Brush
Haida Gwaii was like a vision from a faerytale rime
At the Edge of the World I heard a voice as old as time
Dawson taught me drinking and hold on to your toes
The Alaska Highway was my first song on that midnight road

Go...my my my
All the places I go, all the places I go

Prince George taught me working and skid row hotels
In the Great North Woods waiting for an axe that never fell
Ottawa taught me the river and how to love the snow
In Quebec City I swallowed tear gas and stuck around for the show
In Toronto I caught a bus with fire in my blood
It rode me out of Peterborough just before the flood
Manitoba left me stranded on the side of the road
I said "FUCK THE GREYHOUND! I'll make it on my own"


Oregon taught me never trust the weather on the coast
California gave me the Redwoods and a forest full of ghosts
Washington showed me traintracks where Wobblies used to roam
In Portland I saw the battle scars from the FBI's war
In San Francisco I walked from North Beach through the Chinatown slums
Sang a Dead song on the corner with the Scum Fucks and the bums
In Big Sur I rode the highline with that endless ocean glow
Golden Gate to Bixby Canyon, there's a bridge for every road



from Tunnels, Treehouses & Trainsmoke, released October 29, 2013
Tyrone Shoe: Drums
Jeff Andrew: Guitar, Vox, Fiddle
The Choir Under The Bridge: Shoutin'



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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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