Category: Uncategorized

The Transformation of Captain Joe Eddie into a Catfish

Deep in the Valley where the mighty Red River runs, well-stock’d with fish and mark’d with hooks of blood
Here did the fishermen ’till the heat of day, pursue the cat and load themselves with rey;
When then Captain Joe Eddie, calling to the rest: “My boys,” said he, “our sport is at its best,
The sun is high advanc’d and downward sheds his burning beams directly on our heads;

Then by consent abstain from further spoils, pull in the hooks and gather up the toils,
And ‘ere tomorrow’s sun begins his race, take the cool morning to renew the chase.”
They all consent, and in a cheerful train the jolly fishermen loaded with the slain,
Return in triumph from the Red River plain, leavin’ Captain Joe Eddie time to refrain.

Oh-oh, river flow
This is the story of Captain Joe
A fisherman you all may know
Oh-oh, river flow

Down in a vale with pine and cypress clad, refresh’d with gently winds, and brown with shade,
The Catfish Mermaid’s private haunt, there stood, full in the center of the darksome wood,
A spacious grotto, all around o’er-grown, with hoary moss, and arch’d with pumice-stone.
From out its rocky clefts the waters flow, and trickling swell into a river above.

Nature had ev’rywhere so played her part, that ev’rywhere she seem’d to vie with art.
Here the bright Mermaid, toil’d and chaf’d with heat, was want to bathe her in the cool retreat.
Here did she now with all her train resort, panting with heat, and breathless from her sport;
Her tackle-bearer laid her rod aside, some loos’d her seashells, some her veil unty’d;

Each busy nymph her proper part undrest; while Crocale, more handy than the rest,
Gather’d her flowing hair, and in a noose, bound it together, whilst her own hung loose.
Seven of the fairest fanned her with sea ferns, two of the fastest watched her close and learned;
Five of the more ignoble sort by turns, fetch up the water, and unlade the urns.

Oh-oh, river flow
This is the story of Captain Joe
A fisherman you all may know
Oh-oh, river flow

Now all undrest the shining Mermaid stood, when Captain Joe Eddie, wilder’d in the wood,
To the cool grott by his hard fate betray’d, the fountains fill’d with naked nymphs he strayed.
The frighted virgins shriek’d at the surprize, the river echoed with their peircing cries.
Then in a huddle ’round their Goddess pressed: she, proudly eminent above the rest,

With blushes glow’d: such blushes as adorn, the ruddy welkin or the purple morn;
And tho’ the crowding nymphs her mermaid body hide, half backward shrunk, and view’d him from a side.
Surprised, at first she would have snatch’d her spear, but sees the circling waters round her near;
These in the hollow of her hand she flung, and splash’d ’em in his face, while thus she sung:

“Tell if thou can’st, the wond’rous sight disclosed,
A Mermaid naked to thy view exposed.”

Oh-oh, river flow
This is the story of Captain Joe
A fisherman you all may know
Oh-oh, river flow

This said, the Cap’ begun to diminish, by slow degrees, and ended in a catfish!
A rising horn on either lip as he grins, and stretches out his skull and tastes with his skin;
Taste with his skin, his senses o’er-grown, his bosom pants with fears before unknown:
Metamorphed at length, he swims away in haste, and wonders why he swims away so fast.

But as by chance, within the wave of a neighb’ring brook, he saw his whiskered horns and alter’d look.
Wretched Captain Joe Eddie! in a doleful tone, he try’d to speak but only gave a groan;
And as he wept, he tasted, with silent pace, the tears trickling down his ancient face.
What should he do? Or seek his old abodes, or herd among the cats and sculk in holes!?

Here shame dissuades him, there his fear prevails, and each by turns his aching heart assails.

Oh-oh, river flow
This is the story of Captain Joe
A fisherman you all may know
He turned in to a Catfish Joe

As he thus ponders, he behind him feels, his op’ning hooks and their lines and reels:
A gen’rous crew, or to maintain the chase, or snuff the vapour from the scented race.
He bounded off with fear, and swiftly swam, o’er muddy banks and the varied chann’
Through brakes and thickets forc’d his way, and flew; through many a ring, where once he did pursue.

In vain he oft endeavour’d to proclaim, his new misfortune, and to tell his name;
Nor voice nor words the brutal tongue supplies; from shouting men, and horns, and dogs he flies,
Deafen’d and stunn’d with their promiscuous cries.

When now the sharpest of the rods, that angled, went near his nose, and t’was that Lady Foot dangled
He smelled it fast through his skin, could not resist, and in a moment felt the hook pierce his lip and twist.
‘Till all the rods came up, and ev’ry hook, tore the sad Captain grov’ling on the ground,
Who now appear’d but one continu’d wound.

With dropping tears his bitter fate he moans,
And fills the river with his dying groans.

Oh-oh, river flow
This is the story of Captain Joe
A fisherman you all may know
He turned in to a Catfish Joe

His sailors with a piteous look he spies, and turns about his dark supplicating eyes.
His sailors, ignorant of what had chanc’d, with eager haste and joyful shouts advanc’d,
And call’d their Captain Joe Eddie to the game. He shook his head in answer to the name;
He heard, but wish’d he had indeed been gone, or only to have stood a looker-on.

But to his grief he finds himself too near, and feels his rav’nous hooks with fury tear
Their wretched Captain panting in a net with but one wish: For them to know he was that dying catfish.

Oh-oh, river flow
This is the story of Captain Joe
A fisherman you all may know
He turned in to a Catfish Joe

As the river turns, you will turn …

As The River Turns

I ran down to the muddy Red River, try and catch some fish
Saw a shooting star the night before, I had made a wish
Asked the man down at the dock which direction I might try
He only smiled and looked at me, and gave me this reply:

“As the river turns, you will learn
As the river turns, you may turn”

I shove off ashore, head North looking for some shade
Hook and worm on my rod, and my engine h’up my vessel, cut the grade
But then here come the Devil, swimming up from below
Clear as the sun shining, it’s the Devil, the Devil and he says, “Joe,

As the river turns, you will yearn
As the river turns, you will burn”

Well fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman
Be he ‘live, or be he dead, I’ll grind his bones to mix my bread
Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed to see such sport, and the dish ran away with the spoon

As the river turns, you will turn
As the river turns, you will turn

When I was born, I was pure, my hair was golden, my heart was sure
I don’t know, but I’ been told, streets of Heaven are lined with gold

As the river turns, you will turn
As the river turns, you will turn

I went through the door, and took off my crown, I unhooked my rod, and laid it down
I killed the band and sunk my boat, Set fire to every word I wrote, and set the burning ash afloat

As the river turns, you will burn
As the river turns, you will burn

Crazy Chester and Anne Marie met in the fog, sailed off to sea
I said goodbye to the Devil, and he said goodbye to me
You can set off running, take your time, friend of the Devil is a friend of mine
Say hello to the fishermen, ’til I pass this way again

As the river turns, you will turn
As the river turns, you will turn
As the river turns, you will turn

Rough cut first draft of a new song, my Week 4 song submission to the local Half Brothers 2018 songwriter challenge

Into The Belly Of The Catfish

When the sun is high, and the river flows
Gonna let that Muddy Waters run down deep between my toes
Gonna let that tall grass cut me
Let that sparrow sing
Gonna drink that Poison Ivy
‘Cause to me that ain’t no thing
Mmm, gonna let that dirt and violence wash down with the detritis
I’m goin’ deep down into the belly of the catfish

Ain’t no first rose of summer gonna prick my finger
Ain’t no cold sunrise gonna warm my bones
Don’t need no satisfaction like The Rolling Stones
There’s ain’t nothin’ goin’ on around here, is there, Mr. Jones?
I don’t need no pretty lady to dance with
I’m going deep down into the belly of the catfish

Ain’t no hangman jury, no gallows tree
No judge’s gavel put no shackles around me
No convict ship, no iron gang
No crows to wait to pick my bones while I hang
No day and night the irons gonna clang
But into the bush I’ll go when I slip my chains
Mmm, they ain’t seen the likes of me yet
I’m going deep down into the belly of the catfish

Don’t need no angels of mercy, need no wings of wax
I don’t need no freight train blues on no sleepy railroad tracks
I don’t need no hobo moonshine to spark no boxcar fire
I got no use for the numbers that go down on the wire
I don’t need no twilight to cast my fortunes, no
I’m going deep down into the belly of the catfish

No big dark cavern, no crashing rocks
No big black mountain gonna make me stop
No green sea serpent, no white wing dove
Ain’t no red storm arisin’ gonna keep me from my love
Uh, no, you don’t know who you mess with
I’m going deep down into the belly of the catfish

Lord said unto Jonah, “Go to Nineveh and tell,
If you don’t, Jonah, I’ll send you to the belly of a whale.”
Jonah said he’d do it, but he went fishin’ instead
For three nights Jonah had whale’s belly for a bed
Mmmhmm, and he begged the Lord for forgiveness
Now I’m going deep down into the belly of a catfish

Now gather ’round close so when I talk you’ll understand
My name is Captain Joe Eddie, the rudest S.O.B. to walk on land
You can ask your Mama, I’m the worst she’s seen
I’m a First Class Discharge from the Merchant Marine
I’m trouble, and I’m always cryin’
I’m going deep down into the belly of the catfish

“Friend Of The Devil” is written by Robert Hunter, Jerry Garcia, and John ‘Marmaduke’ Dawson.

I’ve felt a recent sort of eternal kinship with Mr. Hunter after seeing a video of him performing at the Newport Folk Festival. I have two copies of his “Box of Rain” book of Grateful Dead song lyrics, and he’s always been to me a poet and prophet of the highest order. His songs with the Grateful Dead are pure magic, and the words in them are full of wisdom and consolation … a church of my musical religion. Watching him perform solo with an acoustic guitar was so humanizing, humbling, yet by the end of the song he appeared entirely powerful, and I’d say that his song lyrics, his poetry, have gained esteem with me since I saw the video.

I wondered about the lyrics of this song today, and when I looked it up, decided to record a quick take.

The image in the video is Buffoon playing a lute, Frans Hals, 1623

Howdy y’all, here’s the next chapter in my song submissions to the local Half Brothers 2018 songwriter challenge .. and it IS a challenge .. hope you enjoy, and as always, thanks for listening! — Joe Eddie

All On The Banks Of The Muddy Red River

As I went out one bright new morning
New fishin’ hook to try
All on the banks of the Muddy Red River
A fair damsel caught my eye

Since the morning was so nice
New summer sun shin’d bright
Thought I’d catch up to the lady
If my footsteps might

I saw her go around the bend
Up past the hollow log
Along the banks of the Muddy Red River
A’bounding with her dog

With three long steps I was beside her
And what I first thought was her dog
Bounding along with this lovely girl
Was indeed an ugly frog

His eyes were big and his cheeks were fat
On his mouth he wore a frown
His legs were long even when he sat
And on his head he wore a crown

And as I stood in awkward wonder
This frog turned to me and croaked
“Brekekex-brekekex-coax-coax,”
Were the words he spoke

I said, “Excuse me, fine young girl,
I do not mean to impose,
But I would follow a pretty girl like you
Anywhere she goes.”

“Well yes, kind sir, I understand,
But you are not the first,” said she,
“For to this man I am betrothed,
And to my heart he holds the key.”

“What man? What man?” I wondered aloud,
For no man could I see
But “Brekekex-coax-coax,”
Croaked again that frog to me

Well wonder and then laughter came
For what they did imply
That the girl and frog were meant to be
I laughed so hard I nearly cried

As the summer was brand new
And the morning sun was warm
I thought I’d play a word or two
Before I took my hook and worm

“Well tell me lady, if thou pleased,
Tell how could it be,
That such a frog with croaks as these,
Could be betrothed to thee?”

She swooned and held her breast to him
As he looked back at me
With his “brekekex-coax-coax” croak
It was a sight to see!

“Well kind sir, since thou asked,
‘Tis simple, plain as this:
Frog Prince has earned my love at last
By a promise and a kiss.”

And as the summer was brand new
And the sun shone nice and bright
I thought I’d ask one further question
If perchance I might

“Lovely darling,” says I, “so
Although you’re to be wed,
Please be my love and leave this toad
And take my hand instead?”

“Brekekex-brekekex-coax-coax,”
The frog croaked deep and high
“Brekekex-brekekex-coax-coax,”
Came the frog’s reply

“Young man of wicked false deceit and lies,
Brekekex-coax,” he said,
“You shall have my lovely bride
If you can take this crown from my head!”

And as the sun shone nice and bright
And the summer was brand new
I decided I should strike this frog
Without further ado

“Well yes, kind frog, that’s quite a duel.
Your challenge I acccept.
With one fell swoop I shall have the jewels
Which upon your head are kept.

And with your crown I shall have my prize
With which you now abide
Sweet lady, diamond of my eyes,
Then you shall be my bride!”

And with my right hand I struck right out
While my left swung round and round
I reached up to that tall frog’s snout
While my feet jumped off the ground

And I wouldn’t lie if I said
I landed square upon his crown
But his fungus skin made me slip instead
Into the Muddy Red River and drown

And as the summer was brand new
And the sun shone bright and hot
T’was into the mouth of a Muddy Red River catfish
I felt myself had got

And on the banks I heard their laughter
That frog bound his bride away
All along on a bright new morning
Of a brand new summer’s day

Howdy friends, here’s the next song about fishin’ cats for the local songwriting contest .. this is my Week 2, Song #2 submission … I hope you enjoy it, hope it tells like a good catfishing story!
If you followed along, please be sure to let me know! Thanks — Joe Eddie

Lady Foot Dangle

Come gather ye wanderers, and I’ll tell you a tale
Known ‘mongst many a seaman and angler
Of a hook that has caught more fish than is known
A hook they call the lady foot dangler

My mother was a fountain of love
A love to fulfill all man’s wishes
But my father was alone in his world
Anyway, he had no time for fishin’

‘Til one day there came travelin’, by river was he
A one-eyed fisher named Coulston
His face wore the tales o’ many fish battles at sea
But if you asked him, he’d just say he lost one

Old Coulston had a pole would make the catfish tremble
And his long red beard carried hooks, when he talked jingled and jangled
And at the end of the line my eyes were awed by what his hands assembled
He said, “Color the dress at an angle, while the lady foot dangles.”

It was past suppertime when he threw out his line
Mom called out she was leavin’
And it wasn’t long before a bend in the rod
Had Coulston and I both a’heavin’

Well the fish gave a fight as the day turned to night
And when her tail splashed, we knew she was heavy
We thought we were fine, ’til she took hold of the line
And dove deep down toward the underwater valley

Well she gave us a yank, and the reel ran hot
‘Til the bearings were nearly burning
And up we did go, and in the water we went
Our hands still on the rod as the reel stopped turning

That black muddy river runs deep and wide
And to the bottom we went a-tumbling
As the water rushed by, I heard old Coulston cry
But all I understood was his mumbling

Then out of the dark came the rush of a wave
Great tusks and the eyes of a Bengal
And the flashin’ of teeth like rocks in a haze
And I saw that lady foot dangle

Well into her jaws went old Coulston and I
With his rod-and-reel, and his hook, that lady foot dangled
And we’s thrashed and was beat and wrapped in the line
Our bones broke, and our lungs was strangled

Well we kicked and we turned, and we failed to cry
We grew dizzy as the lady foot dangled
And by the time we slid back to her throat for to die
Our bodies were torn up and mangled

So down we went to the great world below
An abyss full of mystery and darkness
Where the light reflects back upon that which is not known
A land beyond where the world was started.

We came to rest finally on a sloping plateau
Strewn with the violence of all the world’s detri’s
Old Coulston says to me, “Young lad, wouldn’t you know,
We’re in the belly of a catfish.”

It wasn’t long in our state of despair
I saw coming what looked like a fair lady
She moved soft and swift as she cut through the air
Her hair glowed orange and wavy

She had long flowing breasts and the arms of the sea
As a dream to fulfill any a mortal man’s wish
Her shoulders were strong and her waist it was long
Yet she had the head and the tail of a catfish!

I tried to awake as she began to speak
She made a sign of three circles, a line and triangle
Then she opened her mouth and spat it tumbling right out
T’was old Coulston’s hook, the lady foot dangle

She said, “Now ye wanderers, how far you have come
To my land here removed from the middle
But travel no more, and death to come soon
Should you not answer my riddle.

For well you know that man has but one voice
Yet becomes four-footed and two-footed and three-footed
Just as you know ’tis by day and by night
That both of our sisters are rooted.

But tell me now, to prove me your worth
‘Lest I devour your heads, and your souls shall perish
Which of these creatures shall rule all kingdom of earth
Be it a man, or be it a catfish?”

Old Coulston, the sailor, he was not amiss
And with his one eye looked up to her radiance
He called up to her with what looked like his fist
And a might full of storm and disobedience

He said, “Now you listen, sweetheart of the sea
We do not come here for bart’rin’, nor wranglin’
We are men of the earth, and we will always be!”
And he stole that lady foot danglin’

And with that she sang a most blistering song
Filled my ears with sounds of wonder and beauty
And my heart was comforted by warm feelings of love
A feelin’ like somehow she knew me

But then the walls start to shake and the world closing in
Old Coulston yelled, “Lad, tie that line off!”
And he casted his rod back out to the sea
And wait while that lady foot dangled

And just as the last brick of wall was led down
Old Coulston’s rod gave a tug, and was bending
The dark had gone light, my eyes had gone blind
I felt that the whole world was ending.

And then came a feeling I still can’t explain
Though I’ve tried many a times, and still try yet
How it came to pass through a great wall of rain
I woke up a child in a fisherman’s net

The sun it was hot, and the sea breeze was dry
I gasped for air, my lungs felt queer and new-fangled
As I looked up into the face of the fisherman with one eye
Old Coulston, and that lady foot dangled

Now up on the wall you’ll notice a mount
Her belly all star-speckled and black-spangled
If you don’t know her by now, just look to her mouth
That mouth where the lady foot dangles

Oh, oh, lady foot dangle
Oh, oh, lady foot dangle

Hey friends, check this out! I put together this song about fishing cats for a local songwriting contest that runs all summer .. this is my Week 1 submission … hope you like it, I’m real excited about writing some fun songs that tell a good catfishin’ story!

Ain’t Gon’ Fishin’ (In The Mornin’)

Ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
No I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the morn’n
Ain’t gone down no fishin’ hole
Ain’t gonna line no fishin’ pole
I ain’t goin fishin in the mornin, po’ boy

No I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
No I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
No I ain’t fishin’ when the mornin’ comes
Gon’ let that river roll right on
And I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy

Lord I ain’t gonna lug my tackle in the morning, po’ boy
No I ain’t gonna lug my tacklebox in the morning, po’ boy
Ain’t gonna lug my fishin’ hook,
Just gonna look at my Holy Book,
And I ain’t gone a fishin’ in the mornin’, po boy

‘Cus if I go fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
Said if I go fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
Said if I go, I’ll go astray
Waste away another day,
That’s if I was to go fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
And I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, no boy

My father was a fisherman by trade, po’ boy
My father’s father was a fisherman by trade, po’ boy
His father’s father was a fisherman
And God willing I will fish again
But I ain’t goin’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy

That black muddy river so deep and wide, po’ boy
That black muddy river so deep and wide, po’ boy
Black muddy river so deep and wide
Ain’t gonna go down by her side
And I ain’t goin’ fishin’ in the mornin’. po’ boy

They say down low lay a Monster Cat, po’ boy
They say down low lays a Monster Cat, po’ boy
They say down low lays the Monster Cat
He lays so low ’cause he so darn fat
They say down low lay a Monster Cat, po’ boy

That first rose of summer pricked my finger, po’ boy
That cold sunrise warmed my bones, po’ boy
First rose of summer on a cold sunrise
That King Catfish got blood stained eyes
And I ain’t goin’ fishin’ in the mornin’, no boy

I been fishin’ since I was a tadpole, po’ boy
Fishin’ since I was a tadpole baby, po’ boy
Nurse said to Mama on the day I was born,
“Mama your baby got a hook and worm!”
I been fishin’ since I was a little bitty tadpole baby, po’ boy

I been fishin’ every day for my whole life, po’ boy
Said I been fishin’ every day for my whole life, po’ boy
Fishin’ every day, fishin’s my life,
Lord don’t believe me you can ask my wife,
I been fishin’ every day for my whole life, po’ boy

But I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
No I ain’t goin’ fishin’ in the morn’, po’ boy
Ain’t goin’ down no fishin’ hole,
Ain’t gonna line my fishin’ pole,
I ain’t goin’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy

They say that Monster Cat got a hole of his own, po’ boy
They say that Monster Cat got a hole of his own, po’ boy
He got a great big hole down a hollow log
Only way to get there’s by way of Frog,
They say that Monster Cat got a great big hole o’ his own, po’ boy

They say he been down there four thousand years, po’ boy
They say he been down there four thousand years, po’ boy
I don’t know if they’s truth in lyin’
But all I know that’s a mighty long time
They say he been down there four thousand years, po’ boy

Up the river, there’s some land, up around the bend, po’ boy
Up the river, there is a land, up around the bend, po’ boy
Up the river, there is a land,
T’was not made by no man’s hand,
Up the river, there is a land, up around the bend, po’ boy

They say the pathway to get there is through crashing rocks, po’ boy
They say the pathway to get there is through crashing rocks, po’ boy
Now I never saw no crashing rocks
But I’ve only been in past my socks
But they say that the pathway is through crashing rocks, po’ boy

I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
No I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
Ain’t gone down no fishin’ hole
Ain’t gone lyin’ no fishin’ pole
No I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy

I’ve seen plenty in my lifetime of fishin’, po’ boy
Yes I’ve seen plenty in my lifetime full of fishin’, po’ boy
I’ve seen ’em come, I’ve seen ’em go,
I’ve seen enough, if I say so
Yeah I’ve seen so much in my time fishin’, po’ boy

I’ve seen trouble, sorrow, I’ve seen pain
Yeah I’ve seen trouble, sorrow, I’ve seen pain
But I’ve seen joy, through all the rain
And if I had it all, I’d do it again
I’ve seen trouble, sorrow, and I’ve seen pain, po’ boy

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all this fishin’, po’ boy
If there’s one thing that I’ve learned from all this fishin’, po’ boy
If there’s one thing that I’ve learned
It’s when to know it’s the fish’s turn
And that’s just one thing that I’ve learned from all this fishin’, po’ boy

I catch more catfish than catch you can, po’ boy
I catch more catfishes than catch can, po’ boy
Catfish po’ boy layin’ on a shelf,
If you want anymore you can sing it yourself,
‘Cus I catch more catfish than catch fish can, po’ boy

And I ain’t goin’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
No I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the morn’n, po’ boy
Ain’t gone down no fishin’ hole,
Ain’t gonna line no fishin’ pole
I ain’t goin fishin in the mornin, po’ boy

No I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
No I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy
No I ain’t fishin’ when the mornin’ comes,
Gon’ let that river roll right on
And I ain’t gon’ fishin’ in the mornin’, po’ boy