Townes Van Zandt Picture
Townes Van Zandt(1944-1997) was a singer-songwriter, born in Texasto a life on the road. Van Zandt was master of the small, intimate folkperformance, such as the July 1973 show that became Live At The Old Quarter Houston, Texas, the double album on Tomato Records. As the Austin Chroniclewrites of the re-released CD, "Alone with a guitar, he hushes the crowd with his visionary tunes that are by turns haunting and eccentric, yet filled with beauty and dark shadows." Despite chronic battles with alcoholism and depression, his songwriting displayed a sense of humour and introspection, truth and beauty. Many artists cite Townes' influence on their music, with covers of his songs recorded by the likes of Emmylou Harris, Lyle Lovett, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, Guy Clark, Steve Earle, Jeffrey Foucault, Cowboy Junkies, The Be Good Tanyasand others. His son John T.
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Our Mother The Mountain Lyrics

Townes Van Zandt

By townes van zandt
My lover comes to me with a rose on her bosom
The moons dancin purple
All through her black hair
And a ladies-in-waiting she stands neath my window
And the sun will rise soon
On the false and the fair
She tells me she comes from my mother the mountain
Her skin fits her tightly
And her lips do not lie
She silently slips from her throat a medallion
Slowly she twirls it
In front of my eyes
I watch her, I love her, I long for to touch her
The satin shes wearin
Is shimmering blue
Outside my window her ladies are sleeping
My dogs have gone hunting
The howling is through
So I reach for her hand and her eyes turns to poison
And her hair turns to splinters,
And her flesh turns to brine
She leaps cross the room, she stands in the window
And screams that my first-born
Will surely be blind
She throws herself out to the black of the nightfall
Shes parted her lips
But she makes not a sound
I fly down the stairway, and I run to the garden
No trace of my true love
Is there to be found
So walk these hills lightly, and watch who youre lovin
By mother the mountain
I swear that its true
Love not a woman with hair black as midnight
And her dress made of satin
All shimmering blue