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lyrics

Papa writes to Johnny,
"Mother won't be long - she has such brittle bones and her lungs are weak.
And son we found your name - under the pillow where she lay,
Carved on the bedboard very faint."

"And you weren't here on Tuesday, when she found your uncle's gun.
And screaming at the sun, she fired one off.
She hit a bird, clipped a sparrow's wing.
Like an arrow slinging from the bow."

"And I've never seen her this way.
And I swore to God, I wouldn't 'til my dying day."

So Johnny reads his letter, on the 32nd floor,
Of a high rise building in New York
And he had to weep as he fell on his knees, "My God!" he screamed,
"The sparrow's me!"

And he doesn't remember why he left,
And he swore to God he wouldn't 'til she was dead.

So remember friends,
When you're leaving home,
Don't tell nobody just
Where you've gone.

credits

from Letters from an Old Trunk, released April 23, 2013
Cameron Scoggins - Vocals, Acoustic Guitar
Alex Jenkins - Double Bass
Russell Durham - Violin
Kyle Brightwell - Cajon, percussion
Rich Hinman - Pedal Steel

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The Whiskey Collection New York, New York

A collection of musicians focused on creating genuine, original music through their own diverse musical backgrounds and vision. Their sound is a compromise of old and new, simple and complex, like listening to folk music through the gritty lens of New York City. ... more

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