Lyrics
Still a River
Story Songs of the Buffalo River
by Still on the Hill (2016)
PONCA TO PRUITT
a tribute to Ken Smith • words & music by Still on the Hill
With my old sturdy paddle I pushed off the bank
From Ponca to Pruitt we floated that day
A lacework of branches crisscrossed overhead
Dropping Dogwood blossoms on the riverbed
A twisted Juniper…high on a bluff
In a craggy old voice…whispered to us!
BUFFALO RIVER…Flow River
Across…this wild land
Unspoiled…by the hand of man
Those low hanging clouds…finally disappeared
Droplets of rain glistened everywhere
The river it danced on its journey downstream
Whistling at Azalea all dressed in green
A black & orange Red Start …Oh blessed be
Up in a Redbud… singing to me! (Singing-CHORUS)
We floated past a bluff with pillars of stone
We called it the castle but its real name’s unknown
Pinnacles of time all worn and weathered
Like a mighty fortress rising from the river
High on a dark cliff… gloomy and grey
I swore that I heard an old vulture pray (Praying-CHORUS)
We took one more rapid and then one more chute
Finally floated down to the last quiet pool
The bluff there at Pruitt up around the bend
Brought our good journey on the river to an end
The Honeysuckle waved as we said “good-bye”
A Wood Iris wept and a Waterthrush cried (Crying- CHORUS)
ODE TO GRANNY HENDERSON
words & music by Still on the Hill
When the day is breaking thru…there is so much work to do
Haul the water from the well…careful that a drop don’t spill
Feed the chickens…milk the cow…too busy to be lonely now
My husband’s gone…but the river rolls on
My dog chases the snakes away…with him around I ain’t afraid
My Pappy’s gun…it still can shoot…squirrel, possum, deer and coon
This land provides me all my needs…till the soil and pull the weeds
Work’s never done…but the river rolls on
I gotta washboard made of glass…on it I scrub my finer threads
I gotta washboard made of tin…I scrub my dirty clothes on it
If I hang my stockins on the line…they’ll be dry by suppertime
I make a tonic every spring…from sassafras, roots & leaves
Ginseng growing here and there…has helped me live these 80 yrs.
Chopping wood with an axe…has made me strong as any man
When day is done…the river rolls on.
So don’t you try to take my land…bury me right where I stand!
Until…I am dead and gone…let these mountains sing my song
The river’s running thru my veins…this is where I MUST remain!
Folks call me Granny Henderson…every stranger is my friend
These hills and hollers gave me life…I’ve been a mother…been a wife
Sneed Creek has been my home…never have I cared to roam
Wait till I’m gone…then let the river roll on
When I’m gone……….LET THE RIVER ROLL ON
KELLY Talk:
They moved Granny Henderson up the hill…there she would spend her final hour
She didn’t last long…we should have known…you can’t transplant a
WILDWOOD FLOWER
SAM'S THRONE
words & music by Still on the Hill
My sister came to live with me after Ma died
She had a pocket fulla gold and Mama’s blue eyes
She worked the dirt like the devil…took the plow in her hand
And she never complained about the hard rocky land
When the day was through…she’d get out the Bible and teach me a verse or two
Every morning when day would come
She’d climb the mountain to pray
Rumor had it she was stolen…gone without a trace
And I’ve never been the same
Sharpened my pocket knife the best that I could
And I cut me stick from that good hard wood
And I made me a cane and I carved out a hole
and I filled it on up with my ‘lil sister’s gold
And when the sun arose…I climbed up the mountain
and preached to the valley below
Folk they say I’s a little bit touched but that don’t bother me none
For years I shouted from the mountaintop
And greeted the morning sun…greeted the morning sun
But nobody ever really heard my words
Except the rocks & the rivers & the trees & the birds
Oh the mountain is high and the valley is wide
And my sister she’s waitin’ on the other side
So when the sun sets tonight…
I’ll climb up the mountain…to the sweet by & by
Night wind cuts like my pocket knife…so cold I can see my breath
On that hill I buried my cane
And walked through the Valley of Death
walked through the Valley of Death
No one ever found the cane or the gold
They named my old mountain…they call it Sam’s Throne
My Rock of the Ages…it is still standing strong
Yeah, I may be gone but my memory lives on!
I’m still here…flowing down the mountain through the valley to the river on a prayer.
And there I go…flowing down the mountain through the valley to the river below!
WOE, WHOA!
words & music by Still on the Hill w/ advisor Joe Neal
Louisiana Waterthrush… bobbin’ his behind
Down around Eden Falls, searching for a Mayfly
If there ain’t no Mayflies there…what’s he gonna eat?
Waterthrush ain’t stickin’ round, ‘less the river’s clean
Woe oh oh oh Whoa (Audience Echo 3X’s)
Chuck-Will’s- Widow…you used to call your name
As the evening shadows fell…on rustling River Cane
Kinda like a Silent Spring, since Chuck Will’s been gone
The river loved the lulliby…he sang as night came on
Woe oh oh oh Whoa (Audience Echo 3X’s)
Cerulean Warbler, little one with feathers of sky blue
All along the Buffalo…your numbers now are few
Every year you winter where the shade tree coffee grows
If we cut the forest down…heaven only knows
The river’s flowing through our veins
The trees they are our lungs
Everything depends…on everything beneath the sun
Let us not unravel
the web of life that has been spun!
Wood Thrush woke the sleeping woods at the break of dawn
Never has there ever been a sweeter sounding song
But this spring he did not sing…he uttered not a word
Through the hills and hollers…all that could be heard…was
Woe oh oh oh Whoa (Audience Echo 3X’s)
BEE BLUFF
words & music by Still on the Hill
In the early 1900’s down near Ponca, AR…
Two young boys built a ladder over 80 ft tall
Placed it up again the bluff…climbed up to the crevice where
Bees buzzed
Bees have lived inside that cliff for many generations
Folks they came from miles around…in great anticipation
Of filling up their pantries…with mason jars full of
wild honey
Burning rags with sulfur drove the bees away
With buckets in hand…folks returned the next day
But the crevice was so small that lo & behold
There weren’t no gittin’ to that treasure trove
Those boys were downright clever and they devised a plan
They brought along an auger and drilled a hole by hand
Into the solid rock…filled it with a stick
‘O dynamite
Carefully they lit the wick and prayed they’d make it down
That rickety ole ladder brought ‘em safely to the ground
Rocks started flyin’ and a hunk o mountainside
broke open
Golden honey poured down like rain
400 lbs I’ve heard folks say
the bees are gone...they’ve flown away
but the name BEE BLUFF remains today
The name BEE BLUFF remains!
ELIZABETH & PIETY
words & music by Still on the Hill
They came to Boxley Valley…both 16 years of age
A wedding gift…for Elizabeth…Piety was her name
They grew up just like sisters…though Piety was a slave
Even…when her freedom came in the valley she remained
They both had several children…then the white plague came
Elizabeth lost her husband…he wasted away
Those women made a solemn vow
To never go astray…and to care for one another
Until their dyin’ day
Both women lived a hard life…and time took its toll
Elizabeth…she faded…just like a wild, wild rose
Aunty Piety stood beside her…kept the promises she made
And when Piety died a fine tombstone
was placed upon her grave
Talk: For the love that they both shared…it transcended even death
Before she died…Elizabeth…wrote Piety’s… epitaph
This is what it read:
NOT LOST- BLESSED THOUGHT
GONE BEFORE…WHERE WE SHALL MEET AGAIN
and PART-- -- -NO MORE
MORNING STAR MINE
words & music by Still on the Hill
On the banks of Rush Creek…
Zinc was discovered…Somewhere ‘round 1889…
towns started booming…prospering an blooming…
when they opened the Morning Star Mine
One day the miners- pried from the mountain
A nugget of pure Zinc carbonate
Over 12,000 lbs – they called it Jumbo
Its value was quickly recognized
They moved it by wagon…To a White River flatboat…
then by Rail Road took it to the World’s Fair
up in Chicago…where it won a Gold Medal
so speculators started moving here.
GRAPEVINE-BRAMBLES
TIME RE-ARRANGES…EMPIRES RISE
AND EVERYTHING CHANGES
They built a fancy hotel and a wild saloon
Where a Rinky-tink player piano played
The miners took to whiskey…
When the tunnels-proved as empty as the buckets
That they carried home each day.
When WW ended…the mines all folded
Like a Gambler givin’ up his hand
The hotel was boarded and everything deserted
It was over just as quick as it began.
GRAPEVINE-BRAMBLES
TIME RE-ARRANGES…EMPIRES FALL
AND EVERYTHING CHANGES
What’s left of that ghost town is withering away
Like time turning rocks into sand
The town folks moved on when the Zinc was all gone
While the real treasure slipped right through their hands
Yeah, man has his turn and he took what he wanted
And vanished out of sight and out of mind
And that beautiful valley…well, it’s taking it back
One board and one brick at a time! REPEAT REFRAIN
THE BUSHWACKERS & THE ROOSTER
words & music by Still on the Hill
In the War of the Rebellion…way way back when
Lawlessness swept across the land
The bushwhackers they took whatever they wanted
They were cruel and heartless men
Mr. Hanson hid his family… way back in the woods
Where he thought they’d never be found
But their ole banty rooster couldn’t help himself
And he crowed just a little to loud
A roving band of bandits…
heard that fateful sound
They made their way to the hidden homestead
Shot the rooster and the menfolk down
They made Mrs. Hanson pluck the feathers out
And cook up a chicken stew
The Bushwhackers ate till they had their fill
And I swear this tale is true!
In that lonely holler…down ‘round Upper Richland Creek
Hardly anyone passes that way
Not a soul has lived there…for a hundred years or more
It is HAUNTED all the old folks say
I’m told that weary travelers…
walkin’ down that lonesome road
swear by the light of the silvery moon
that they hear an old rooster crow!
EVELINE & PETER TYLER
words & music by Still on the Hill
KELLY:
Eveline-Minerva Price…may I take your for my wife?
I am not a man of war…I’ll not wear a uniform
We have NO need for a slave…I will work this land…plow in hand…Eveline
DONNA:
Peter Tyler…I’ll say YES…I am weary…I confess
My people walked from Caroline…on a trail of tears my mother died
I’ll unbraid my long black hair…I’ll stand by your side, be a faithful wife…Peter Tyler
BOTH:
For years by this river…peacefully flowing
Our farm and fields steadily growing
120 acres we call home…all we ever wanted…was to be left alone
KELLY:
Eveline…I am afraid…this war between the Blue & Grey
Is raging right outside our door…you know that I’m against this war
All the men round here agree and have joined in secrecy…The Peace Society…Eveline.
DONNA:
Peter…I just heard today…a local militias on its way
They’ll round up all of men, for treason-they may be condemned
They’ll march you to Little Rock in chains…
Ankle to ankle…they’ll take you away…Peter Tyler
BOTH:
My love…Oh my love…hold me tight..
This war is raging but it’s not our fight
Nothing good can come when blood is spilled
by brother against brother living in these hills
KELLY:
Eveline…Please be brave….somehow I will soon escape
I’ve been working on a plan…I’ll send you a letter when I can
Once I’m free I will return…to your sweet embrace
That bright and sunny day…Eveline!
DONNA:
One final letter I received…from a rebel camp near Boling Green
I read much more between the lines, my dear Peter’s, sick and dying
The last words that he wrote to me
KELLY:
When the war is through…I pray…I’ll come back to you…Eveline!
DONNA:
When the war is through...I’ll see…you coming back to me…Peter Tyler!
LOVELY BUFFALO
words & music by Still on the Hill
Chuck Will’s Widow and Whippoorwill
Singin’ to beat the band…competing for attention of the moon
A pack of coyotes pass our camp a little bit too close…howling out a tune
We woke up in the morning…down by the riverbed
To a symphony of Mourning Dove and Carolina Wren
Wood Thrush, Oven Bird…Red Eyed Vireo
I’m so glad they never dammed the Lovely Buffalo!
In 1937, there came a call from Washington
Build dams…to tame the rivers flow
Folks down in the valley were moved to higher land
All in the name of flood control
Rising in the morning…to hear the birds a’callin
We found a pathway through some river cane
Not paying much attention…to this or that direction
we almost lost our way
Caught up in the beauty of that magical place
Wind upon our back and the sun upon our face
We came upon a bluff with the river down below
I’m so glad they never dammed the Lovely Buffalo
In the 1970’s the Ozark Society
Worked hard and saved the Buffalo
Now it’s our Nations FIRST Historic River
Majestically it flows!
Now I’m sitting on that river bank, banjo in my hand
Hoping for the final verse to come
I’m grateful for the river…grateful for this day
And for the setting sun
And even those mighty Dams-When I really stop to think
They’re providing us with power
And clean water for us to drink
But sitting here this evening,
just watching the river flow
I’m so glad they never dammed the Lovely Buffalo!