Don’t Lie To Me
Song number three off Ghost Dance, as with a lot of songs started life as something else entirely, with a few chord and arrangement changes by Antz and a new set of lyrics, became Don’t Lie To Me. The lyrics came from a number of experiences i had in the US in 2008, the first being a couple of Greyhound Bus trips, one from Los Vegas to Flagstaff and the other from Nashville to Memphis and back, quite an experience i can a sure you.
I don’t know how many of you have ever caught a Greyhound Bus in the US, it’s a cheap way to travel and tends to attract people, shall we say down on their luck or just plain nuts, i think we qualify for the later. Waiting in the bus station alone is enough to scare the crap outa you, the odd fight, people asleep, with what looked like their life’s possessions, nice people, sad people, bad people, a couple of cops dragging off some druggy just to add the drama, you tend to keep to yourself if you know what i mean. On the Los Vegas to Flagstaff trip we were waiting for one passenger, the only seat was next to me, the guy they were trying to get on board was asleep on the pavement. He was a pretty hard looking black guy, I was hoping like hell they’d leave him behind but no such luck. When they eventually got him on board he looked even worse, teeth missing, cap pulled low over his eyes, rough as guts, anyway he just sat down and went to sleep!!
After an hour or so he woke up and we started chattin as ya do, turned out to be a cool dude, we got on like a house on fire. He’d been in the marines, fought in Kuwait, got injured, had been a long haul truck driver for a few years, had his fair share of drugs an booze, screwed up his marriage, as ya do and was heading to Phoenix to clean up his life and start a building job. This story he told me about training in the marines where he won a red sash for being a top recruit,which apparently is a big deal. He thought it was funny because all he was thinking about was being the best he could be so he could go rob a bank. His truck driving stories sounded like hell on wheels, eating bags of sunflower seeds to stay awake, tyres blowing out, which apparently happened on a regular basis, crashes, 〈we saw heaps of tire pieces and the odd smashed rig on the highways〉, fights, guns,girls, the lot, he sure as hell had led an interesting life, i hope he made it, his name was Tyrone.
A trip to Santa Fe’ accounts for the next part, caught a train called the Rail Runner, it had the Roadrunner painted on it, from Albuquerque to Santa Fe’ the deal in the plaza was just that, buying some jewelry of the Navaho in the market. The white wolf was wandering around the local museum with a handler, a friendly wolf you could pat it, as part of a promotion for a book on wolves. The canyon is the Grand Canyon, the Painted Desert is part of the Navajo Nation in Arizona, we drove past it on the way to the canyon and flew over them both on the way back to LA from Chicago, seeing that whole area from the air after being there was mind-boggling and that hole in the ground is just massive!!
The “don’t lie to me” line, relates to my mistrust in politicians, not that we can really ever do much about it, as Pete Townsend put it in Won’t Get Fooled Again, “meet the new boss same as the old boss.”
Headed outa Nashville on a Greyhound bus, gotta get to Memphis don’t want no fuss, I wont be ya prisoner aint gonna be no slave, fought for a freedom i wont give away,
Early mornin rising gotta catch that train, headed on a Roadrunner down to Santa Fe’
Don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me, I got ya number, so don’t you lie to me,
Look into the canyon see a big dark hole, eagle there above it it’s spirit in your soul, See a painted desert lies beneath you hand, do a deal in the plaza in the white wolfs land,
I aint no angel i’ve done my time, are these just dreams before my eyes,
Don’t lie to me to me, don’t lie to me, i git ya number so don’t lie to me,