Trailercana Lyrics and Liner Notes

LYRICS and LINER NOTES by ANTSY

Living in Aluminum
The message of this song, I hope, rings loud enough to be heard over the catchy music and driving rhythm. It was written about the trap of materialism, and how I needed to focus on more important things in life.

There’s a lot to be said about contentment; some folks never get enough.
Let me ask you honey, which is better? A mansion full of money, or a trailer full of love?

There’s a lot to be said about acceptance; liking who you are and having peace of mind.
The secret’s being happy with your lot in life, baby, And I’m pretty happy here in lot number nine.

Living in aluminum.

I don’t need a house of vinyl. I don’t need a house of wood.
There ain’t no better way to test your mettle, than in a semi-precious metal neighborhood.

There’s a lot to be said about conviction; Live the Golden Rule with God on your side.
But don’t forget another code of living: The Aluminum Rule: Thou shalt enjoy the ride!

Having it all is like putting up a wall around you.
You’ll be a slave to the treasure as you measure every nickel and dime.
Soon you’re gonna see a big pile of debris surround you.
And I’ll be sure and send you a postcard from Freedom some time.

______________________________________________________

The Devil Gets More Credit Than He Deserves
I was watching the report of some dubious celebrity crime trial on CNN, and got so disgusted, I had to turn off the TV and pick up my guitar to calm myself down. This is what came out of me in the next 20 minutes. Jimmy plays the slide guitar, and Lindsey Buckingham plays the fire out of the electric guitar on this song. Thanks guys.

Sitting in a courtroom, the jury stares you down,
The devil made ya do it; he drove you into town.
Made you pull the trigger, as if your hands were tied.
They didn’t buy your story, but you tried, tried, tried.

The backroad to Hell is full of man-made curves,
And the devil gets a lot more credit than he deserves.

Got something special but you’re running into bumps
Just a little man in a world full of Hiltons and Trumps.
Devil’s workin' ‘gainst you; don’t want you to succeed.
And no one really cares what you need, need, need.

I feel for you brother. It’s bound to test your nerves,
But the devil gets a lot more credit than he deserves.

It’s gotta be a drag when you’re a fallen star.
But he loves all the attention, ‘can’t buy this kind of PR.
So, he’s taking more vacations, lounging by the pool,
Chillin' at the Hamptons that night you lost your cool.

The backroad to Hell is full of man-made curves,
And the devil gets a lot more credit than he deserves.

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Joan of Arkansas
I heard this story, or one like it, about a woman who set fire to her trailer and left an abusive relationship. I had it rolling around in my head for a long time. Jimmy called one day and gave me this hook and most of the chorus, and we worked it up right there over the phone. Bonnie Bramlett sings her soul out.

He was a Pine Bluff boy with a noggin full of dirt red hair,
Took her cruising Route 5 in his honeysuckle new Corvair.
Left her stomach in knots, had her head in a fog.
Love came easy, like falling off a log.
Ooh, but there was trouble in the Arkansas air.

They got married on a full moon, Middle of the pouring down rain.
He had a thing with the bottle, Made him feel like a young John Wayne.
He went drinking every night ‘Fore he ever made it home,
Leave her in the trailer with the porch light on.
Ooh, he'd treat her awful if she ever complained.

She's Joan of Arkansas,
Just a Little Rock girl with big time dreams, that's all.
She got herself tied to a big mistake,
If she don't cut herself loose, 'gonna be too late
For Joan of Arkansas.

She set the fire one night After sorting through what's hers and his.
The trailer went up fast, Now it's smoking like a rack of short ribs.
The neighbors and the cops checkin' out the place,
She waited in the shadows just to see the boy's face.
When he came home for supper To see what his little Joan did.

She taught the boy a lesson he ain't gonna live down.
The heart of a woman can't ever be bound.
You're playing with fire, I'm telling you the truth,
Look out, brother, when she cuts herself loose!

She's Joan of Arkansas,
Just a Little Rock girl with big time dreams, that's all.
She cut herself loose from a big mistake,
We saw her headin' South near Quachita Lake.
Joan of Arkansas.

______________________________________________________

DysFUNKtional
Back home, there’s a gal who’s more fun when she’s off her meds. Names have been changed to... well, keep the party going.

Mary Anne Myers is a little insane,
Like fifteen people inside one body.
There’s something bad wrong with her brain.
But she can sure throw a great toga party.

Mary Anne Myers is a friend of mine.
She’s a die hard, wild card night club hopper.
The girl knows how to have a good time,
She don’t let mental instability stop her.
No she don’t.

You can call her crazy, but you can’t call her dull.
Mary Anne Myers put the funk in DysFUNKtional.

Some folks say what we’re doing ain’t right.
Some might say it’s just exploitation.
But there’s a party at her house tonight,
And she hasn’t been taking her medication.
It’s gonna be good.

______________________________________________________

I was just flipped off by a silver haired old lady, with a “Honk If You Love Jesus” sticker on the bumper of her car.
This one kind of speaks for itself. The longest title I’ve ever written; I tried something shorter, but nothing nailed it like this. A true story, this song follows my thought process loosely as I sat in my car those quiet, ponderous moments after the event.

I was feeling pretty Christian, I was loving all my neighbors,
When I saw that bumper sticker there, I didn’t think twice.
My hand went for my horn, And I pushed it with conviction.
When I saw that lady’s finger, It almost put my heart on ice.

And it makes me want to cry, But I may never have the gumption now
To read those one line sermons In bright yellow, black and white.
I’ve been buoyed up so many times While stuck in rush hour traffic,
And forgive me Lord, for saying, But my faith is weak tonight.

You say, ‘Maybe it’s a rental. She could be the second owner.
She could be a Godless sinner In a loaner from a friend.’
While that helps (I do feel better), I just can’t help but see it
As a sign the world is doomed, And we’re that much closer to The End.

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Nothing’s Gonna Stop Me Now
Ah, the brave, unflinching voice of optimism...

Nothing’s gonna stop me now.
Nothing’s gonna stop me now.
I said nothing’s gonna stop me now.
Nothing’s gonna stop me n–

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I Wanna Live in a Billboard
Just a few days after 9-11, I was driving through Nashville, listening to all the horrible news on the radio, and was stunned by the contrast I saw on a billboard high above the road – a smiling, unaffected group of people frozen in a time before all this bad news. And I wished I was there with them.

I wanna live in a billboard.
I wanna be with that laughing girl.
I wanna live in a billboard.
And say goodbye to this cold, cruel world.
I’ll be the life of every party,
With a winning smile and a rock hard body,
And I’d never be alone.

I wanna live in a billboard.
I wanna be in that happy place.
I wanna live in a billboard.
I’d be a cowboy with a leather face.
And I’ll never have the need for Prozac,
And the hair I’ve lost will up and grow back.
And I’ll be forever young.

I wanna live in a billboard.
Where life is safe and so conventional.
And all my friends are one dimensional.
Shallow but larger than life.
I wanna live in a billboard.

I wanna live in a billboard.
You’re gonna wish you were this lucky guy.
I wanna live in a billboard.
And I’ll ignore when you drive on by.
I’d be content and so complacent
Cuz my smiling face will be adjacent
To a government project slum
I wanna live in a billboard.

I see the crane driver, ‘got a gleam in his eye.
Gonna cover up my picture with another lucky guy.
I guess I had my thirty days in the sun.

I wanna live in a billboard.
Under a slogan saying “Buy This Beer!”
I wanna live in a billboard.
Where all your dreams are coming true right here.
Selling the dream to the American Dreamer,
Of liver damage and emphysema,
But I’ll be in good company.
I wanna live in a billboard.

________________________________________

Dora’s Dark Side
PMS is no laughing matter. Stop it.... Stop laughing. This is not funny.

Dora’s got a dark side,
I’ve seen it a time or two myself.
Everything will be going just fine
Suddenly, you’re staring at the gates of Hell.

She’s on husband number five,
Two dead, and two in a mental ward.
She’s a looker, land sakes alive, but her mood swings will drive a man outta his gourd.

Thunder’s rolling and the town is guessin',
Dora Blevins is PMSing.

Strange things been happening ‘round town,
Clues tell us the evil Dora’s been there.
Donnie down at the Donut pantry
Said he’s missing a tray of chocolate Éclairs.

Her car looks like a delicatessen,
Dora Blevins is PMSing.

She’s gonna teach Mother nature a lesson,
Dora Blevins is PMSing.

Dora’s got a dark side
I’ve seen it a time or two myself...

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Nothing’s Gonna Stop Me Now (Reprise)
Let’s try this again. We can get through this. I know we can. We are professionals.

Nothing’s gonna stop me now.
Nothing’s gonna stop me now. (Hey!)
Nothing’s gonna stop me now.
Nothing’s gonna stop me now.
Nothing’s gonna stop me –

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KOA Refugee
My favorite track on this album. I know. Daddy’s aren’t supposed to have favorites, but I just can’t help it.

Our love was alive, but now it’s DOA.
I’m just another lone squatter at the KOA.
There ain’t a lonelier place
When you’re alone and don’t wanna be.
I’m in between a little family on a getaway,
And a silver-haired couple up from FLA.
Just little ol’ me, a KOA refugee.

I’m just a KOA refugee
Puttin' down stakes, locking the brakes,
Where’s the next turn taking me?
Magellan or gypsy, you can call me what fits.
I dropped off the fast lane, I’m callin' it quits.
Caution: Wide turns, I’m a KOA refugee.

I came here for solace, and I got it in spades,
I got a view of the highway and the Palisades.
But I’d leave it all behind, just give me what used to be.

This concrete slab I got this tin can on
Makes a poor substitution for
my own front lawn.
WoOOoo is me, a KOA refugee.
The sound of other voices is of little peace,
I’m just a single axle man
runnin’ low on grease,

With a cinder-block tire-stop
Keepin’ me from rolling away.
But if I take a look around, past my own RV,
I see a lot of other souls
down and out like me.
Caught in-betweeners, KOA refugees.

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Prozac Made Me Stay
My friend Elizabeth sent me this title, and after I was done laughing, I wrote the song around it. And I’m going to come right out and say it: Tommy Smothers rocks.

Hold me now, cuz I just might fall apart,
Without your arms around me, like duct tape on my heart.
Holy cow. Don’t yell at me that way.
Your sweet talk made me love you,
But Prozac made me stay.

If I wasn’t so sedated, I’d pack
my bags and go. But every time
I get up, the room spins real slow.
And gets faster till I sit down,
And the voices go away.
And I’m back inside my happy
place where everything’s OK.

And the world is warm and squishy
And all covered up with fuzz.
And... hmmm... I forgot where I was.
Oh yeah, the world is warm and squishy
And all covered up with fuzz.
Loving you is easy when I got this Prozac buzz.

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Full Moon Nights in Pine View Heights
An honest and heartfelt portrait of some of the people I loved as a kid: one girl, one teacher, one barber.

She had her eyebrows plucked thinner than a razor’s edge.
She smelled like popcorn, Quaker State and Lemon Pledge.
She had her head on my shoulder, fittin’ just right.
There musta been a dozen parties goin’ on that night.
She said, ‘Baybee, let’s stay right here and veg.

I remember full moon nights in Pine View Heights,
The buzz of the cicadas and the chigger bites.
The city lights glowing beyond the trees.
The smell of lake water ridin’ on the breeze.
Those were the happiest times of my life,
Here in Pine View Heights.

I was a knock kneed school boy, couldn’t o’ been more than nine.
When I saw her after recess standing in the lunch line.
It was love at first site. ‘Sounds corny, I guess,
But I was looking at an angel in a gunny sack dress!
Aw yeah, Miss Abernathy looked fine!

Akle was a barber, but he coulda been head of state.
Every day by 5, he had the problems of the world laid straight.
Give a history lesson while he was cuttin’ your hair.
I heard the birds and the bees sitting in that chair.
Aw yeah, we all thought Akle was great.

Now, you know it ain’t good to be living in the past,
Just looky what you’re missing when you run too fast.
If we spend too much time in the rear view mirror,
We’re gonna miss everything that we got right here!

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Cubic Zirconium in the Rough
Also written about some old friends back home – he’s not quite a diamond in the rough, but a very convincing imitation.

They were just two underachievers
In a sleepy one horse town.
Fate brought them together, so they said.
He had a face you can’t remember
Even when he’d hang around,
But it didn’t take a lot to turn her head.
He’ll never be a diamond,
But to her he’s bright enough.
He’s a cubic zirconium in the rough.

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I Married Up
This is my theme song – and as I have discovered, the admitted theme song of many of the men I meet at our live shows. And having seen their wives, I’d have to agree with them. Way to go, guys.

She’s got her brown fuzzy slippers
And her mustard yellow terry cloth robe.
Her mail order Richard Petty earrings
Dangling from each lobe.
Got her hair up in rollers,
And the rollers are Mountain Dew cans.
She’s a picture of grace
With that grilled Spam and cheese in her hands.

I know what you’re saying, it’s a hard thing to miss.
How’s a fella like me get a woman like this?

I married up. My life is sweet as a daydream.
I married up. And now we’re living in her Airstream.
I married up. I’m all about social status.
I married up. She even knows who her Dad is.

She could do better if her confidence’d let her,
But it lead her down the road to me.
Seven years after, I’m still the benefactor
Of the woman’s low self esteem.
I married up!

Well, you shoulda seen me
Before my woman came into my life. (It wasn’t pretty.)
I was a mess, I confess, don’t know
Where I would be without my wife! (He’s such a pity.)
I don’t know how I ever drove,
Don’t know how I crossed the street.
Don’t know how I held a fork,
Don’t know if I’d lift the seat without her.

I married up. I give my woman all the credit... cards.
I married up. And now she won’t let me forget it.
I married up. My brothers know that it’s true.
I married up. And if you know what’s good for you...
You’ll say it too. I married up.

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Ron Howard’s Brother
Clint Howard is his name, actually, and he’s a really nice guy, as we found out when he invited us to dinner, rather than serving us a lawsuit, after hearing this song.

If I was Ron Howard’s brother, I’d have an iron clad career.
I’d have a house by the ocean, do one or two movies every year.

If I was Ron Howard’s brother, I’d have it made in the shade.
I’d hang around other famous people, Like Jim Belushi and Randy Quaid.

Folks’d see us at the mall, and everybody’d know my name.
Hey! It’s Ron Howard’s brother!

And everyone in Hollywood, they’d all be treating me good.
They’d know their fate is sealed by the power I wield.

And people would ask me questions: How is Andy Griffith in real life?
Is it true what they say about Gomer? Did you really meet Barney Fife?
And I would give ‘em educated answers. It’s the least I could do being Ron Howard’s brother.

And I can play a man in a white shirt, the same role in the last 9 flicks.
I’d get my very own trailer, be on the set every day by six.

And nobody would dare mess with me. I’d still be getting checks from Disney.
I’d throw parties with all my friends, Show the rug I made from Gentle Ben.

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Falling in Love in America
A love song to America, sung to anyone who ever felt the rollercoaster rush of first love against the backdrop of a corn field, with the smell of Autumn in the air, and a lump in your throat you were sure would never go away.

Her eyes were so warm and inviting,
Like steamy diner windows on a cold winter day.
The November air was so biting,
We could see our breath in my old Chevrolet.
Taking the longest way home I could find,
It was cold, but she loved me, and I had to stop time.
There’s nothing like falling in love in America.

Well, I’ve never yet been to Paris,
And I’ve never been one to like fancy perfume.
But I’ve held hands with Jessica Harris,
And walked by the creek with the red bud in bloom.
Those writers in Cosmo, they don’t know a thing.
And France ain’t got nothin' on Kentucky in Spring.
And there’s nothing like falling in love in America.

America. Lift up your lonely and broken.
The hopeless still hopin’.
America. Heal up the hearts that are achin,’
Those yet to be taken,
There’s nothing like falling in love in America.

A dance at a High School gymnasium.
The kids line the walls like they’re facing a firing squad.
They’re waiting for transfiguration,
Or some kind of sign from a merciful God.
If I thought that they’d listen (and they haven’t, so far),
I’d tell them how beautiful and bright they all are,
And there’s nothing like falling in love in America.

I know it all comes down to perspective.
And there’s so many beautiful things we can’t see.
But our vision just needs resurrected.
We take so much for granted when so much comes free.
And I know it may seem like it’s all upside down.
But if we ever needed a love song, it’s now.
And there’s nothing like falling in love in America.