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Redacted Hills Sings Joe Hills

by Redacted Hills

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1.
Who’s the guy who can conquer death? That’s Joe Hills He plays for Nashville when he plays Minecraft That’s Joe Hills That’s Joe Hills... Bring on the creepers Bring on the flames Here comes the legend The bravest of brave Fiercer than lions More Southern than you He conquered our hearts And he’ll conquer Hell, too Joe Hills... I’m headed down to somewhere Got my pickaxe in my hand Yes, I’m headed down to somewhere Got my pickaxe in my hand I’m headed down to somewhere God knows where I am
2.
Folks say to be the very best You’ve gotta travel cross the land But I’m happy here at pretty good Just out walking with my friends So you can fly from coast to coast For all Niantic’s events But my destiny’s here in Tennessee My Pokédex in hand You run your laps chasing Licktungs in Providence And you arc your throws for Electabuzz in Saint Louis But when you’re lost in Boston seekin’ PokéStops, boo hoo We’ll all still be spinning them up on Rocky Top, it’s true While you can race to catch ‘em all, and fall flat on your face We’ll hatch our Togepis here in Tennessee At our own pre-destined pace We don’t need Tangelas from Los Angeles If you’re there chasin’ Charizard, you’re making your life way too hard Clutching garlic, pounding pavement Down Ventura Boulevard We don’t need Nidoqueens from down New Orleans I hate to rain on solo you, but parades need a willing krewe All those Squirtles on St. Charles Saw you wand’ring and withdrew While you can race to catch ‘em all, and fall flat on your face We’ll hatch our Togepis here in Tennessee At our own pre-destined pace We don’t need Lapras from Mineapolis Or Pellippers from Mississippers, There’s enough wheedles on Monteagle We could evolve a swarm of Beedrill There’s enough Snubbull down in Shelbyville We could team a sled with Grunbull We don’t need Porygon from out in Oregon Or any Pikachus from up in Massachews Sorry, Professor Oklahoma Sorry, PokéCoin Palooka We’ll hatch on hikes in Chattanooga While you can race to catch ‘em all, and fall flat on your face We’ll hatch our Togepis here in Tennessee At our own pre-destined pace While you can race to catch ‘em all, and fall flat on your face We’ll hatch our Togepis here in Tennessee At our own pre-destined pace
3.
Lines 04:00
A power line to convey a certain brilliance A telephone line to carry a voice A metro line to bring us all downtown Lines of connection, communication Not the borders or boundaries That slice and dice a nation Divided by the chalk lines Of disreputable history Past failures all laid out As we shrug with absent mystery Those bodies left behind us While we amble on ahead Fearful of the wrong things From newspapers unread Before I tell you what to do Or you try to tell me Let's all see what's been done And where we could have been By knowing what's before us The path might clear ahead And focus on new obstacles Uncharted by the dead A power line from a gurgling turbine A telephone line from a quiet room A metro line from across the city Maybe we'll all raise our glasses soon They say across the fence line The grass is always verdurous But we're not corralling cattle Fearing wranglers foul or murderous When we look out past dividers We're unsurprised to see More folks erecting fences Becoming detainees Before I worry about you Or you worry about me Let's all dwell on ourselves We're the private enemy Becoming who we're meant to Virtuous and creative We won't dread the different The strange or unrelated A power line to convey a certain brilliance A telephone line to carry a voice A metro line to bring us all home To bring us home
4.
Cogs 01:34
I put the cogs into the box And then I’ve got another load After a while, my arms’ll get tired And then this job will blow But I could be replaced by a machine That does my work in half the time But I don’t know where I’d go ‘Cause I prefer Putting cogs into the box Now I’ve got another load Only just a few more hours And then I’m free to go But I can’t cease in questioning If I really have a home It makes me sick to think of it ‘Cause I prefer
5.
Send me a wave via subspace Beam me a message from home Cast me a “hello” in holo Tell me I’m not all alone The corridors are narrow and the rations miss the mark As we fly like Zeno’s arrow past the sparkles in the dark I think of home and what I miss is picnics in the park So, send me a wave via subspace Tap me a line or two Because though we grow distantly relativistically I’m coming home to you

credits

released April 1, 2019

Quinn Hills - Vocals, Guitar, Harmonica, Keyboards
Joe Hills - Lyrics

Produced by Quinn Hills.

All songs by Quinn Hills and Joe Hills.

© 2019 VanderWyle Records

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Redacted Hills Nashville, Tennessee

Hailing from Nashville, Redacted Hills first learned to love folk music and Americana by way of Norwegian death metal. Her songs regularly feature in the videos of their brother Joe Hills and in the Hannibal-themed podcast, The Ethical Butchers.

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