Holyoke

by Mat D

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Bucky
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Bucky Mat D is back with Holyoke and it continues on with the gritty outlaw country twang and commanding vocals, could be his best yet! Great job on the cover art, as it matches the mood of the music perfectly. Great stuff! Favorite track: Carry Me to Canaan.
Matt Gage
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Matt Gage Great track, heard Mat talk about it on Kool 95 in Sioux City. Favorite track: Eastbound Denver Train.
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about

"Holyoke" - the third full length album from Mat D and the Profane Saints, the first in 4-1/2 years since 2009's "Dirt Town City Limits" Originally intended and recorded as a solo album in 2011, the songs presented themselves as a band effort to Kurt, Jeff and Mat. After recording much of the album they scrapped the old tracks and opted to start over in 2012. Recording wrapped in December 2013 after three years of writing, re-writing, rehearsal and final sessions. Holyoke was inspired by the Old West, the topography of Colorado, Nebraska and South Dakota; as well as the stories and legends of the desert plains.

credits

released March 4, 2014

Mathew deRiso - Vocals / Acoustic Guitar / Banjo
Jeff Deignan - Drums / Percussion
Kurt Mullins - Electric Guitar / Bass Guitar
Shawn Blomberg - Bass Guitar

Produced by Kurt Mullins
Engineered by Kurt Mullins, Jeff Deignan and Mathew deRiso
Recorded and Mixed at Music Works
Mastered by Blake La Grange at Mercury Mastering
Art direction and design by MRD

All Words and Music by Mathew deRiso
Original Arrangements by Kurt Mullins and Jeff Deignan
copyright 2014 Mat D and the Profane Saints
Mary Moe Music / Music Works Productions

www.MatDandtheProfaneSaints.com

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about

Mat D Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Singer-songwriter Mathew deRiso has performed with band mates Kurt Mullins and Jeff Deignan as Mat D and the Profane Saints since 2006. The band has made a name for itself performing all original material ranging from Blues, Rock and Country that critics have hailed as "A Young Steve Earle with a more powerful set of Pipes" and "Hard Luck Americana" ... more

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Track Name: Half Mile Holler
Orphan of that ragged road left carved out on them hills
with so few left to testify I fear that no one will
Heard her calling late one night an echo 'cross the plains
an Angel or a languished ghost...out here they're one the same

Crates and common wares to hawk
much too fair to sell
come lay with me in Holyoke a half-a-mile from hell

Orphan of that ragged road too wicked to repent
her black dress blowing in the dust hung from a barbed wire fence
Heard her calling late one night an echo 'cross the plains
a voice as sweet as black strap tar or whiskey in my veins

Crates and common wares to hawk
much too fair to sell
come lay with me in Holyoke a half-a-mile from hell

Orphan of that ragged road too wicked to repent
the vagrants had their way with her and left her here for dead
Heard her calling late one night an echo 'cross the plains
her lonesome cackle ruled the sky in sinister refrain

Crates and common wares to hawk
much too fair to sell
come lay with me in Holyoke a half-a-mile from hell
come lay with me in Holyoke a half-a-mile from hell
Track Name: Tin Can Soul
A thin man routes in a dime store suit half buried in the Utah mud
Well, he dug them all up but he couldn't claim the bodies
them bones been covered in the blood by God
them bones been covered in the blood

Face shave clean to the bone so lean that his alabaster skin shone red
in a form so slight I could have swore he had a body sewn together
in the quarry of the dead
with a kerosine halo black tar wings and a hay-fork riddled with gold
he digs and routes in a dime store suit
for the pieces of a tin can soul by god
for the pieces of a tin can soul...yeah

Thin man skims through the junkyard bins on the edges of a pithead town
struck a long stem match but to his dismay that conglomerate had all
burned down
He digs and routes in a dime store suit half buried in the Utah mud
Well, he dug them all up but he couldn't claim the bodies
them bones been covered in the blood by God
them bones been covered in the blood

Thin man died on the mountainside on the day the angels fell
well, they brought him back to life down a coal mine shaft where they
crowned him peer of hell
wore a kerosine halo, black tar wings and a hay-fork riddled with gold
yeah, they say the devil died on the mountainside
leaving nothing but a tin can soul behind, leaving nothing but a tin can soul..my. my!

Sugar that corn
You've got to Copper that fire
dance a two step gallop with a long tongued liar
you've got to ladle that coal you better bellow and sing
baby ho-down Dolly won't you shake that thing
you better dig up them bones bottle that blood
sifting through the corpses in the Utah mud
they left him buried with hay-fork riddled with gold
yeah my mama said the devil had a tin can soul.
Track Name: Sawmill Road
I took a Sawmill Road down to the river bed
off the black hill shore where the creek turned red
off a Rapid City ribbon of dirt without a ticket to ride
I left a cigarette girl for the devil
in a big black Buick quoting John the Revelator
on a monumental getaway with a Lakota Sioux Bride

My little pine top sugar in a hot rod six
she keeps on moving like a wrecking machine back to the land of the sticks big black Buick gonna carry the dead back from the Sawmill Road down to the river bed

I took a Sawmill Road down to the river bank off the black hill shore out where a freight train sank down a Rapid City ribbon of dirt resolved to fight back the urges I left that reservation woman with the engineer on a tripped out chopper with a bucket of beer I joined that decorated motorcade until they pulled into Sturgis

My little pine top sugar in a hot rod six
she keeps on moving like a wrecking machine back to the land of the sticks tripped out chopper on a half a tank
from the Sawmill Road down to the river bank oh, honey

(yeah..we've got the doctor riding baby...!)

I took a Sawmill Road down to the river bed
off the black hill shore where the creek turned red
off a Rapid City ribbon of dirt without a ticket to ride
I left a cigarette girl for the devil
in a big black Buick quoting John the Revelator
on a monumental getaway with a Lakota Sioux Bride

My little pine top sugar in a hot rod six
she keeps on moving like a wrecking machine back to the land of the sticks big black Buick gonna carry the dead back from the Sawmill Road..Lord-! down to the river bed
tripped out chopper on a half a tank
from the Sawmill Road - Ha! down to the river bank
Track Name: Gambling, Girls and Guns
Old Black Jack was my only friend
back home in junction town
and three card stud it's in my blood
come lay your money down
my father was the rambling kind
my mother she died young
so he taught me all I need to know
about Gambling Girls and Guns...
about Gambling Girls and Guns

A darkened room twelve hours from noon
she showed the world to me
I paid that lass two bits of lead the night I set her free
I drift from place to place since them
I live life on the run
I make my way from day to day off
Gambling, Girls and Guns, Lord
off Gambling, Girls and Guns

They damned near took me down last spring outside of Monterrey
I fought them all until they fell but I barely got away
the law came busting in that night a dozen men to one
but I killed those bastards in the name of
Gambling, Girls and Guns Lord...
of Gambling, Girls and Guns

They left me weak my lucks run short
hell, there's nothing left to do
but pay some whore to lay with me before this night is through
one just the kind I used to find
when I was wild and young
I'll teach mademoiselle a thing or two
about Gambling , Girls and Guns Lord...
about Gambling, Girls and Guns

A darkened room twelve hours from noon
just like it was before
the world spun black before my listless body hit the floor
she slit my throat and watched me die
oh, my rambling days are done!
but now I fear I'm bound by sin to all the
Gambling, Girls and Guns Lord...
to the Gambling, Girls and Guns

My father was the rambling kind
my mother she died young
and by God's grace I'd see her face
but old Daddy done me wrong...
The devil made a place for me
it's hotter than the sun...

It's just as well
to burn in hell
for all the Gambling, Girls and Guns Lord...
for the Gambling, Girls and Guns.
Track Name: Carry Me to Canaan
Chipped blue plates
falling of the stack I should've never built the commons by the main line track but most folks left when the town turned dry nothing left to salvage but the place won't die.
I met a hell-hole girl with the sunburned skin and she made me a believer once the lights went dim at the old depot I didn't need a reservation - it doubles as a brothel and a railroad station

I never bought a ticket call me cavalier
but I've been running with the devil since I wound up here
I didn't see it coming
I heard the whistle blow
it left me yearning for the freedom only dead men know...
On a long black train raising up a howl
it'll carry me to Canaan if I turn back now
free my soul been straining from the load
of a life turned wicked down a pitchfork road...yeah.


Sunburned girl sprawled out on the floor I heard the cold wind rattling an old screen door I pray the night train comes if it's blacker than the sky I'll hitch a ride to glory on the day I die
But the myth's no good - the lies stay stuck and they just rattle like the motor in her old man's truck at the old depot with the brothel round the back a phantom locomotive took possession of the track


I never bought a ticket call me cavalier
but I've been running with the devil since I wound up here
I didn't see it coming
I heard the whistle blow
it left me yearning for the freedom only dead men know...
On a long black train raising up a howl
it'll carry me to Canaan if I turn back now
free my soul been straining from the load
of a life turned wicked down a pitchfork road
Long black train coming down the track
it'll carry me to Canaan and I won't come back
free my soul been straining from the load
of a life turned wicked down a pitchfork road - yeah...

down a pitchfork road...oh, Lord.
Track Name: Roadhouse Shrine
Dust storm blowing through a cardboard town
tore the roof tops off and left the asphalt brown
flax sun setting on a junkyard road with the tin piled high
Lord, it shines like gold

Been living in the country born to push that mule
got to plow these fields till our train comes through
looking for revival down a slack jaw line
with the unknown saints in a Roadhouse Shrine

They rearranged the letters on the old marquee
they read "YOU STILL CAN'T TOUCH" and "THE DEAD DRINK FREE"
big hipped mamma she's a Tennessee belle with the Memphis thighs she's come to cast her spell
They've got a poor boy rolling up the main street holler hawking earthbound voodoo for your red-necked dollar
buy a crown of roses for your valentine if she's a half nude prophet in a Roadhouse Shrine


There was nothing left to cover but our ashtray breath I caught a white Freightliner down to Nazareth where I bought a plastic Jesus off an antique vendor she just spit out her gum and she stuck him to the fender
Yeah, we spent another evening in a dim motel in a three-way tryst with a Tennessee belle I'm tired of seeking shelter with the rambling kind and the unknown saints in a Roadhouse Shrine
Track Name: Arcadia Town
Hauling’ on up the county line
lightning on a pallet of turpentine
Cotton from a Ginny to soak it up
Lipstick on the on the rim of an empty cup
Blister on the cheek of a dying muse
matchstick at the ready to light the fuse
flesh and bone to the diesel drone
Do I resurrect a derelict or ride alone

Oh, I…watch the road stretching on
past Arcadia town...

with her pale neon lights disappearing behind me
I know… there will be no turning back
since it drove you away...
knowing I'd never stray off that ancient highway

yeah I watch the road stretching on
past Arcadia town...
with her pale neon lights disappearing behind me
I know there will be no turning back
since it drove you away...
knowing I'd never stray…

county line disintegrates again
Coasting out on fumes and a drop of gin
Rubbed against the grooves of an empty seat
Blood stain turned to dust in the summer heat
Blister on the cheek of a dying muse
matchstick at the ready to light the fuse
flesh and bone to the diesel drone
Do I resurrect a derelict or ride alone

Oh, I…watch the road stretching on
past Arcadia town...
with her pale neon lights disappearing behind me
I know…there will be no turning back
since it drove you away...knowing I'd never stray off that ancient highway

...off that ancient highway...
Track Name: Holyoke
Tractor tire collision with a barn board fence
Splinters through the edges of a feed-sack dress
sent to consecrate the furrows of a hangman's rope
on a mission of deliverance to Holyoke

Tethered to the fender baby
I never said a prayer but maybe I felt a spirit's sweet surrender through the slag and smoke...Hellbound in Holyoke

So I barreled down the back roads of a paint brush ridge
I passed through Morgan Country at the railroad bridge
where I conjured up a feeling but I soon lost hope
I could've swore I saw the devil down in Holyoke

Tethered to the fender baby
I never said a prayer but maybe I felt the lifeblood of the blighted and a languished ghost...unite in Holyoke

I'll ride out in the morning just to lose my way
And I'll be wandering this desert till the judgment day
chasing every apparition that the damned invoke
from the Colorado border back to Holyoke...yeah

Tethered to the fender baby
I never said a prayer but maybe I felt a spirit's sweet surrender through the slag and smoke...still burning...still burning!
Tethered to the fender baby
I never said a prayer but maybe I felt the lifeblood of the blighted and a languished ghost...unite in Holyoke

Hellbound in Holyoke
Track Name: Eastbound Denver Train
Eastbound train out of Denver
Bad luck woman on my mind
Fifteen miles from Nebraska
I've got that devil at my side

White Lightning eight ball lickety-split
yeah the threw me off the wagon 'bout the time that I quit
I've got the hard luck blues everywhere I go
from the South Dakota border down to Mexico
I met a hell bound woman tattoos and all with the mudflap curves
and a southern drawl she had the mean good looks the crazy eyes built like a razor wire to cut you down to size I ride an...

Eastbound train out of Denver
Rocky Mountains at my back
Fifteen miles from Nebraska
gonna ride that bullet on down the track...yeah.

Belly full of diesel coming straight down the line bound for the Colorado desert from the land of the pines thought it would carry me to Canaan but she ushered me back aboard that spirit locomotive half a mile down the track
she said "The devil done brought you here to testify - I'll be taking your confession are you ready to die?"
I said " The man knows better, honey I never will - I've got two pistols at the ready and I'm shooting to kill"
I ride an...

Eastbound train out of Denver
Bad luck woman on my mind
Fifteen miles from Nebraska
I've got that devil at my side
Eastbound train out of Denver
Rocky Mountains at my back
Fifteen miles from Nebraska
gonna ride that bullet on down...down...down....
Track Name: Dirt Road to Hell
I followed the signs through an unending night
hitched a ride cross the highway till I saw the light
felt a cool vacant glow coming up from the side
caught a sweet subtle moan off some trailer park bride
till a curtain of flame caught my eye in the cracked rear-view mirror
half asleep at the wheel when I wrecked thinking you were still here

I rose from a bed of black gravel and pitch
I was baptized in fuel and caught fire in the ditch
crawling out as the cinders repelled down my chin
felt a blaze fill my lungs and the heat claim my skin
with no sign of a run down old truck stop or gilded motel
just the damned passing by in a trance on the dirt road to Hell

So I came to the crossroads resigned to my fate
and laid down in the dust knowing it was too late
where a gasoline angel rose up and took flight
and I rode on her wings through that perilous night
and she carried me back to the place where I wavered and fell
Lord, she scatters my ashes to pave that old dirt road to Hell

I followed the signs through an unending night
hitched a ride cross the highway till I saw the light
felt a cool vacant glow coming up from the side
caught a sweet subtle moan off some trailer park bride
where the good men gone wrong go to die
doomed forever to dwell
Half a mile past the old county line on the dirt road to Hell.