The Countertop Chronicles

"Run by a gun zealot who's too blinded by the NRA" - Sam Penney of

Monday, March 01, 2004

Monday Song Lyric

Today's Monday Song Lyric is from a long time favorite of mine, Widespread Panic. For most of the 90s Widespread Panic was one of, if not my, favorite band to listen to. Carrying the torch of the Allman Brothers Band, Panic grew from the early hippy rock trio of John Bell, Michael "Panic" Houser, and Dave Schools to become a powerhouse blues based southern rock and roll band. In recent years, and most profoundly after the passing in 2002 of original guitarist Michael Houser (Pancreatic cancer), the band has drifted away from the deep and eerie blues sounds of their earlier years to a more festive, jassy, New Orleans sound. C. Brown, an early song and fan favorite, is also a departure from the ominous, bass heavy, slow tempoed blues numbers the band built their reputation on. With a mudely of acoustic guitars built over the thunderous rythym section andJohn Bell growling lyrics, its a touching story of American's favorite childhood hero finally lashing out after years of abuse and taking a tragic, but altogether expected, stand.


Widespread Panic/Jeff Riley

C. Brown wakes from bed
Brushes his teeth and he combs his head for school
Out the door and down the street
Down to the corner and a bus and some friends that he's supposed to meet
But there, not to his surprise
His friends have gone and they've told C a lie

But you can walk on with me
You don't even need to say a word
You don't have to worry about the others

I C (see) him and he runs up fast
Kicks at the air his friends watch him fall and then laugh
Charlie really likes his friends
But in his heart he knows that sometimes a dog is as good as any man
Trying to do as we should
That doesn't always rhyme with doing what feels good

But you can sit in the grass; it feels good
You don't even need to think a word
You don't have to worry, don't worry

Charlie there is drawing a gun
Right there in the square he's sketched Lucy on the run
Aims his eye, cocks his head
In a cloud of dust, dear old Lucy's gone
Charlie's only trying the golden rule
Draw unto others as they have been drawn to you

And you can walk on home with me
You don't even need to think a word
You don't have to worry...


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