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about

This travelogue was my attempt - along with Bill Bartholomew - to write a song called "Nickels." His sounded like Sparklehorse, mine sounds like Bill Monroe.

lyrics

I’ve got pockets crammed with nickels
I’ve got a compass but no needle
I’ve got maps of trails, a directory of rails
And my share of needless feelings

I caught glimpses through the thickets
Of blue spray-painted birches
Their virgin bark, though lifeless now
Lay in the shadows far beneath bare branches

Was I wrong the steal the apples from you side?
Was I wrong to mute the lanterns you burn nightly?
Was I wrong?
Was I wrong to fill the empty pages of your log?
Invent your days, emotions, coded messages and question marks?
Was I wrong?

I’ve got pockets crammed with nickels
I’ve got a sun pointin’ me in circles
I’ve got my walking stick, a book of matches
And I’ll be setting up camp in the foothills

Was it you who once thought better of the thought?
That time could mend the random broken pieces of the human heart
And was it...?
Was it wrong to try again and try again and try again and fail again and try again?
Was it wrong?
'Cause it felt so right

I’ve got pockets crammed with nickels
I’ve got a compass but no needle

credits

from Recordings: Winter 2009, released December 26, 2010
Written, performed, and recorded by Christopher Knott at home in Greenwood Heights, Brooklyn.

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Christopher Knott Rhode Island

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