Written by Martha Fields Galloway (c) 2016

Can’t go back there…   not again 
Gotta turn around…it’s another a dead end  
Won’t turn the other cheek - I’ll turn my back 
I ain’t weak -  just no masochistic hack  
Oh, how could you do? What you do 
I should hate you but I don’t  
Oh, how could you do?  what you do 
I should hate you but I won’t 
Look me in the eye and tell me why? 
Speak the truth, don’t poison me with lies 
From lover to enemy, there is no remedy 
Betrayal only hurts those you love         
Oh, how could you do? What you do 
I should hate you but I don’t  
Oh, how could you do?  what you do 
I should hate you but I won’t

Written by Martha Fields Galloway (c) 2016

Started like a dream, rainbow colors of love  
Technicolor romance,   now you say,
we gotta let it go  
but I don’t want to be alone, 
no, I    can’t   be alone         
Sweet love of mine, we built a shrine 
I don’t know how 
Oh, where do we, where do we go now?             
You were my backbone, you were my touchstone 
Nothing do I own,  and nothing  owns me 
but  I don’t want to be alone,
no, I  can’t  be alone         
I  stood in your  shadow, shadows on the sand and sea 
Little tree needs the sun, little tree  is far from the seed 
but  I don’t,  want to be alone    
no, I     can’t   be alone    

SOUTHERN WHITE LIES                          
Written by Martha Fields Galloway (c) 2016

Mamma’s working two jobs she can’t get ahead 
Daddy was in prison - now he's dead                        Them lies, them Southern White Lies 
The ties that bind, oh, them Southern White Lies 
Rest of the world sees us full of hate 
Don’t mess with Texas  -  it’s too late 
Them lies, them Southern White Lies 
The ties that blind, oh, them Southern White Lies 
Big box killed all them mom and pops  
Big man gets all the handouts 
They got clout the Southern White Liars 
Better change your mine – damn the ties that buy 

I gotta quit thinking…I gotta quit drinking
I got that sinking feeling it’ll be over soon 
Seems all I hear is gloom and doom     
You can shoot me in the back,
choke on your silver spoon 

Pandering politicians, we need more musicians 
Money draws ‘em like flies 
Pull up my bootstraps - you might give me some scraps 
Oh, you Southern White Liar!



(written by Martha Field Galloway © 2016)

Hard Times,   movin’ on  down that track 
Hard Times,   Mama ain't comin' back
Hard Times,  won’t you release me
Hard Times  Honky Tonk  you’re gonna miss me 
Oh, Mama has had some hard times  feeling no pain
All those years gone down the drain
Hard Times, won’t you release me
Hard Times,  Honky Tonk  you’re gonna miss me
It ain't that whiskey talking
Baby I am a walking
Moving on down that track  
Hard Times  Honky Tonk,   I ain't never coming back
Oh, Norfolk Southern shaking the ground
You won’t have your punching bag around
Hard Times,   won’t you release me
Hard Times Honky Tonk you’re gonna miss me 
Hear that whistle blow, here I go
Rolling down Route 23
I finally got the gumption
To   think something of me  


Written by Martha Fields Galloway (c) 2016 

Come from a long line of poor working farmers  
Came to Appalachia, Grannie was already there  
Sailed the ocean, fought tyranny 
It's another form now,  is it my destiny?  
Ain't my destiny, ain't my destiny  

No pot to piss in, believe in that trickle down 
Snake handlers and tv tellin' 'em it's for the best  
Ain’t for the best (repeat)  

No need for education, no money for schools  
Easier for Limbaugh, to play 'em like the fool  
I ain't his fool (repeat) 

I'm a blue state girl with  red state roots  
We were poor white trash... now we're the underclass  
They send us to war, we don't know what for  
We got no jobs so we come back for more  
(We come back for more - repeat)  

Blue dog democrats, bigger, poorer, deeper in debt  
When did them men in suits get ahold of your head?  Hold of your head (repeat) 

Against your own self interest you’ve turned the tide   - Squirrel hunting, religion, and redneck pride  
Why are you on the corporate side? downward slide   
We gotta find some common ground, before we all drown 


Come from a long line, poor working farmers, Came to Appalachia,  Grannie was already there....

(Written by Martha Fields Galloway (c) 2015)

Letha May Fields was born in ‘22
Number 8 out of 10, down old Route 52
On the banks of the 12 Pole, near Sidney Depot
Be a good girl Letha and ‘do as you are told’
4 out of ten didn’t live to see 10
But Letha, she was rough as a cob, she could fight like any man
She wondered how she’d make it there, times were rough and times were hard
Thinking’s men’s business Letha, ‘do as you are told ‘
Do as you are told girl, do as you are told
Thinking’s men’s business, do as you are told
If you want to live old girl, you better not be so bold
Be a good girl Letha and ‘do as you are told’
 She finished the 8th grade, Daddy said, ‘now, that’s enough’
They hired her out to Buddy Thompson, she did what she was told
Cousin Arbuckle, ruined her, that’s what Granny said,
Like a good girl Letha, she did what she was told
They took the train to New Orleans
They found work on Camp Street
Tending bar, drinkin’, and generally feelin’ free
But something overtook her, still what we don’t know
Archie called the Sisters of Mercy, and they did what they were told
They have her last rights and they called her family
Said, your sister’s dying here and we’re doing what we were told
But nobody came I guess nobody cared
You know, Letha wasn’t a good girl so nobody came
She laid in that pauper’s grave for ‘nigh on 50 years
Kinfolk often wondered, but shed few tears
A big storm came and took her out to sea
Letha didn’t live old, she didn’t do what she was told


(written by Martha Fields © 2016)


Eyes wide open for the promised land

No Mama no / may not be a man

Traveled down some twisted roads, 

Always trying to break the codes



Feels like a million miles from my tender youth

Had so many trials   since I felt good

Wonder if I’ve ever heard – if  I’ve heard the truth

Another Soul (another soul) on the move


SOLO (Violin)


Tangoed and two-stepped / and climbed Victoire

Autobahn the Autoroute / nothing to acquire

Rather have red dirt between my toes

Than that Black Friday / Black Friday overdose





Only want a simple life full of love and song

Why we burn the candle at both ends

In my heart I know, that something’s deeply wrong

Don’t know how much more, how much more I can bend (REPEAT)

(Martha Fields Galloway (c) 2014)  

Well, she looked like Mata Hari 
She dressed like Marlene Deitrich 
She danced at the Moulin Rouge 
For the boys of the Third Reich 

Johanna, Johanna 
Johanna, Johanna, Johanna 

Hotel Contentintal in Calcutta 
Papa John  fell for Grace 
He told too many lies 
He couldn't look her in the face 


She met her daddy once or twice 
But he wouldn't leave his wife 
Grace begged him to come, then drowned herself in rum 


Why don't you put on your dancing dress? 
Get out your your castanets
Put them bells on your feet 
Oh, she made them boys so weak 


She had a boudior on the 2nd floor 
Married men from the village 
Marie-Carroll was fast asleep 
Her body and her money they pillaged