Truth Comes Out

The truth comes out as the fire burns low
It comes to light as only embers glow
The whiskey talks, the west wind moans in the night

— Corb Lund, “Truth Comes Out”

“People don’t always understand that I’m singing in character, like a book. When Charles Dickens writes something in quotes, it means the character in his novel said that. It doesn’t mean Charles Dickens believes that. People forget that with music sometimes.

“I’ve got a song that kind of glorifies oil riggers and a song about people fighting against oil and gas on their land. People think it’s a dichotomy, but it’s just different points of view…

“…I try not to be too politically heavy handed in my stuff. Some people do, and I think there’s a place for that, but I think there’s a place for music that transcends politics. My stuff is sort of political sometimes, but it’s subtle. Sometimes we forget and let day to day financial things and political things be everything we talk about, but I think music can transcend that. I try not to tell people how to think, I just present them with a story and they get what they want from it.”

He’s been roundin’ off bolts since the age of fourteen
Was that a five eighths or a nine sixteenths?
He’s got a metric socket that don’t quite fit
Well it’ll wiggle just a little but it ain’t quite stripped
The safety guard’s gone from his grinding machine
He got a stiff paint brush he only kinda got clean
He’s the hired man, my neighbor and a cousin in law
He’s a jerry riggin’ fool, he got the tool for the job

When the oil stops, everything stops, nothin’ left in the fountain
Nobody wants paper money, son, so you just as well stop countin’
Can you break the horse, can you light the fire?
What’s that, I beg your pardon?
You’d best start thinkin’ where your food comes from and I hope you tend a good garden

Gettin’ down on the mountain, gettin’ down on the mountain
Don’t wanna be around when the shit goes down
I’ll be gettin’ down on the mountain

When the trucks don’t run, the bread won’t come, have a hard time findin’ petrol
Water ain’t runnin’ in the city no more, do you hold any precious metal?
Can you gut the fish, can you read the sky?
What’s that about overcrowdin’?
You ever seen a man who’s kids ain’t ate for seventeen days and countin’?

Gettin’ down on the mountain, gettin’ down on the mountain
Don’t wanna be around when the shit goes down
I’ll be gettin’ down on the mountain

There ain’t no heat and the power’s gone out, it’s kerosene lamps and candles
The roads are blocked, it’s all gridlocked, you got a shortwave handle?
Can you track the deer, can you dig the well?
I couldn’t quite hear your answer
I think I see a rip in the social fabric, Brother can you spare some ammo?

We’d sink right down, down to the diff

And we’d all take turns and do it again
Till no one could move, we’d call one more friend,
Come on out here, we need you…bring your truck