Christian Rowe

Christian Rowe

 Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA
BandFolkBlues

Band Members

  • Christian Rowe Guitarist, Vocalist

Other Info

Cover band: 
No

Lyrics

Close Ear

Written By: Christian Rowe

waiting for a door to unlock itself,
waiting for a door to unlock itself,
its like waiting for the devil to come out of hell.

waiting for a storm to go around the block,
waiting for a storm to go around the block,
its like waiting for the trees to stand up to me and talk.

nothing is anything really .
and anything is nothing i can explain.
what an interesting world i live in.

trees are good for paper,
plastic is good for shade
what a beautiful world that i live in

You should feel by now you've got the world
in the palm of your hands
You should feel by now you've got the world
in the palm of your hands
The weight is pulling heavy,
to the point you can barely stand

Dont keep a close ear in, no fearin you are okay.
Dont keep a close ear in, no fearin you are okay.
Ignorance is bliss, I'm sure she'll
give you a kiss one day.

nothing is anything really .
and anything is nothing i can explain.
what an interesting world i live in.

trees are good for paper,
plastic is good for shade
what a beautiful world that i live in

Dont keep a close ear in, no fearin you're okay.
Dont keep a close eye in
your not the one thats dyin babe
Well, Irony is a bitch, im sure he'll
give you a kiss one day.

If you like where your standin,
go put your hand in,
Your presence is candid,
so dont be branded that way.

What an interesting world i live in.

Cranes, Stones, and Blindfolds

Written By: Christian Rowe

These hands create heros
These hands create crooks
These hands signed the papers
These hands are writin history books
These hands fly airplanes
These hands drive tanks
These hands attract apples
and they were tempted by a snake

These hands make distractions
to places without hands
These hands hold the trigger
and make other ones bury in the sinking sand
This hand would swear to god
and the other one would hide a finger
When these hands are a broken
the finger prints, they will linger

Im not talkin about the human footprint
'Not talkin 'bout the human mind
I'll let m' hands do the talkin
Show me yours, and ill show you mine.

With a snap of your fingers
you can jump to conclusions
With a snap of a wrist
you can break your fall
these hands create warnings
and these hands they are guna kill us all.

India

Written By: Christian Rowe

I thought youd keep cool
when you came back from India.
On the flight you finished schoolin'
on your way home from India.
You couldn't hide your face
under a mask of an indian.
Then i saw your face
when you came back from India.

Your words danced in cirlces
like an unnative american.
You smelled like the flowers
and looked like the trees.
But your breath and your feet
smelled like an unnative american.
You couldnt fool me
when you came back from india.

So you grew your hair long
and wore psychidelia.
Every where were actors
I couldnt escape from ya'.
You chose to go barefoot
so i could see more a' ya'.
So you dropped and you swallowed
to hide psychodelica.

Well the fad youve learned well
and the life you live
show you still talk the same,
so i know you exist.
I saw it in your eyes
like a green eyed american.
You couldn't hide your eyes.
when you came back from India.

So you defied your government
and claimed to be an athiest.
You yelled for an hour
to prove you exist,
but then you went home
and watched yourself on the television.
I thought you'd keep cool
when you came back from India.

Well Jesus Christ
was more of an indian.
He grew his hair long
and wore psychidelia.
He smoked and went barefoot
and listened to Bob Marley.
He yelled for a life time
and died on the t.v.

Yeah, we yell once in our lifetime
and die on the t.v.
we yell once in our lifetime
and die on the t.v.
we yell once in our lifetime
and die on the t.v.

Carbon Copy

Written By: Christian Rowe

Different names and faces you know.
All of them dry in a mold.
Things become typical, words become rutine.
Everything you know gets old.

Everyday ya wake up's the same.
At least in the grand scheme of things.
What's the line between addiction and rutine.
Might as well spark start my brain.

Everyone knows
and talks about it.
We all know it
and we are all surrounded.
Everything youve ever known.
Has been the same
since the day you were born.
Yet we learn, show
and grow to deal with it.
Everything you know gets old.

Carbon copy days i live.
'Hard to prove i exist.
Things become typical, words become obscene.
Try to prove things will flip.
But nothing colors different when you sit.

Finger painting taking control.
Of the tree she painted on her own door.
Every branch is needed and grows the same leaves.
Proven to sink to the floor.

Everyone knows
and talks about it.
We all know it
and we are all surrounded.
Everything youve ever known.
Has been the same
since the day you were born.
Yet we learn, show
and grow to deal with it.
Everything you know gets old.

Everything in life has a pendulum.
Everything in life has a pendulum.
Everything in life has a pendulum.
Everything in life has a pendulum.

Everyone knows
and talks about it.
We all know it
and we are all surrounded.
Everything youve ever known.
Has been the same
since the day you were born.
Yet we learn, show
and grow to deal with it.
Everything you know gets old.

Stationary Blues

Written By: Christian Rowe

We never laughed alot.
We never fussed at all.
If we were talking seldom
i was not to certain
that we never fussed at all.
So grab my hand baby, shine for the curtain call.

Baby's cryin' from the yard.
Ringin' formed a stall.
Kicking structures filled with cracks.
'Guess it'll have ta' fall.
Cause she's my baby
and she's drivin' me up the wall.
Yeah she's my baby
and she's drivin' me up the wall.

See my suitcase lookin' flashy.
My baby creeps behind.
See my bootlace lookin' ready.
My baby creeps my mind.
Ah im own electric fence
and im keepin' me in another time.

Dusty words that were abandoned.
Now linger and smell.
Old horses come back to haunt me.
Now figure and tell
me that shes my baby
and i know i love her well.
She's my baby
and i know i love her well.
Ah, these stationary blues
got me sweepin at the gates of hell.
Yeah she's my baby
and i know i love her well.

World's Do Align

Written By: Christian Rowe

Waiting for your chance to fly.
The worlds do align.
'Followed it all your life.
I followed you into mine.
Waitin' for that glimpse of light
to prove you haven't died.
Waitin' for your chance to fly,
the worlds do align.

Waitin' for the world to die
so you wont be left behind.
You went and walked the night
and searched the stars in the sky.
Waitin' for that chance to fly
worlds do align.
Waitin' for that chance to fly
worlds do align.

Waiting for your chance to fly.
The worlds do align.
'Followed it all your life.
I followed you into mine.
Waitin' for that glimpse of light
to prove you haven't died.
Waitin' for your chance to fly,
the worlds do align.

Atoms On the Move

Written By: Christian Rowe

Faces in the crowd
are there to pick you up
when your down.
There just faces in the crowd
and everyone's wearing the crown
that we wear to keep sane.
The telephone rings more
share words then
cut the chord.
Conversation stops and
stands still,
but the memories, insults, and ideas
that we took were real.

Well everybody's everybody
i wouldnt think twice.
About how who's the key
to making things right.
Cause all in all
were just atoms on the move.
You win some and lose some,
yeah you win and you lose.

Friends come and go
with the same bullshit
im told.
New thought are fake
'cause they were someone elses
one day.
Everything becomes waste
and its building up a mountain
below,
i can see for days.

Well everybody's everybody
i wouldnt think twice.
About how who's the key
to making things right.
Cause all in all
were just atoms on the move.
You win some and lose some,
yeah you win and you lose.

Dont ever worry we're all gunna' share.
Dont ever worry we're all gunna' share.
Dont leave in fury we're all gunna' share.
Dont ever worry we're all gunna' share.
Dont ever worry we're all gunna' share.
Everyone is everyone
we are getting everywhere.

Reds and Yellows

Written By: Christian Rowe

The street lights, they are blinking
and i cant believe all the reds and yellows.
And at night i start thinking
and i cant beleive all the reds and yellows.
Everynight theres always something on my mind.

Im tired of people complaining about the life they are wasting.
Im tired of people complaining about the life they are wasting.
And everyday there's always something slowing us down.

Sometimes i feel the judgement
of the people around
everytime they stop and start to worry about their own life.
There are some who can't say what they beleive.
'Always crowded in a world
full of reds and yellows.
Everynight there is always something on their mind.

Im tired of people complaining about the life they are wasting.
Im tired of people complaining about the life they are wasting.
And everyday there's always something slowing us down.

Long shot, to push and to make
when we break down a world
and fill it with reds and yellows.
Seas away, but close enough to asume and to break.
Always crowding people down
with reds and yellows.
Everynight there's always something on my mind.

Im tired of people complaining about the life they are wasting.
Im tired of people complaining about the life they are wasting.
And everyday there's always something slowing us down.

In a perfect world
everyone would go on green.
In a perfect world
everyone would go on green.
But in the real world
not everyone may hear what you mean.
In a perfect world
without those reds and yellows.

Cup of Tea ( mouthful of rain)

Written By: Christian Rowe

The storm falls in.
the tide retreats.
My cigarettes a burnin
and im sippin on my tea.
Fears and private thoughts
shared and nuetralized
Ships to sail
green and blue horizon lines

If my memory will feed
to the time before my teeth
To be it but a dream,
Ill wake up and have myself a cup of tea.

Grey is such, so piteous
when theres games of chess to play
morning breakfast cooking hot
bacon and eggs
Tears and sweat and hardwork
flushed down the drain
and theres no yearnin and searchin for em
when i taste the rain.

If my memory will feed
to the time beneath a tree
To be it but a dream,
then ill wake up and have my self a cup of tea.

If my memory could warn,
to the calm before the storm.
To be it but a sore,
to taunt and to warm.
To be it but a dream,
then ill wake up and have my self a cup of tea.

Approaching Toll (get yer change ready)

Written By: Christian Rowe

Some are huffing gas
and others huffing glue
Some are puffing mags
I was sniffing out the news
with one eye open
seeing your eyes swelling closed
If you could only see
you can still use your nose
and at the end of your moving sidewalk
holds a toll
and youd sell anything for that fix
how 'bout your clothes, mind, and soul.

Well a time is gunna come
when your feet betray your run
and that rhyme you need
is never sung
on to run out of choices
when your belly is stuck
face up
at the sun

They are talking tons of heap
yelling backwards through the screen
Hear it echo back
while the actors losing sleep
But i'd wear my shoes
while im off counting sheep
for tomorrows to walk my talk
from my last nights dream
So have fun directing and dancing
in front of a green screen
and ill shout back to you so keep your ears clean

Well a time is gunna come
when your feet betray your run
and that rhyme you need
is never sung
on to run out of choices
when your belly is stuck
face up
at the sun

I'm bound to farm this land
growing feet growing hands
I hope they're self propelled
even if by rubberband
Not rooted to the ground
watching the hourglass of flipping sand
Daring not to flower colors
giving push and shove a chance
Cause we are shootin, lootin, hootin,
scootin from everyone hollerin in advance
Im not swimming in but drinking in
everything from the hourglass of flipping sand.

The Ballad of Routine

Written By: Christian Rowe

In the sinking sands of Babylon
It is not a place to breathe
But to beat the windy current
of the sky overhead the sea
is a heavy pull to borrow
and enough to break in your knees
Yes the oasis in the desert is
a mind waiting to eat.

The croaking clock screams loudly
as it's running down the tracks
The sun is playing cloudy
so i don't know where it's at
Though I never stepped on broken glass
that hasnt already been smashed
Aint it hard to catch the clock
when your feet are playing fat.

Lady-E Lady-Aye
The desert is as dry as ice
Lady-Ay Lady-O
'Card I'd Like to Pick and throw

The moon comes crashing to the rim
where it reapears after the day
And it starts the engine blue high on it
Reminding you yesterday filed away
And then to be repeated
A ghost stamped in the seat
Photos are now as graceful
as liter in the street

Lady-E Lady-Aye
The desert is as dry as ice
Lady-Ay Lady-O
'Card I'd Like to Pick and throw

Side B, a two way mirror
watching footprints moving west
Side A, a one valve rhythm
leading the march back to the crest
The circumfrence of an exodus
must not take a man like me
The salty water of the ocean is
a mind waiting to leak

Lady-E Lady-Aye
The desert is as dry as ice
Lady-Ay Lady-O
'Card I'd Like to Pick and throw

Set List

I play as much as i can in the time given to me. I sing what i need to or i enjoy, whether it be my words or anothers.