Lisa Warner

Lisa Warner

BandAmericanaFolk

Lisa Warner is an exciting new voice on the Texas songwriter stage. Her songs are carefully crafted and delivered with duo partner or five piece band. Lisa also plays solo. Haunting lyrics and melodies lull the listener into Lisa's sound.

Biography

"Why do such sweet faced girls write such dark foreboding songs", writes Dallas Observer critic, Darryl Smyers of Lisa Warner's music. Lisa's lyrics paint familiar pictures without sentiment or judgment. Her songs tell stories through the juxtapositon of old and new, good and bad, ugly and beautiful. Her country gothic tales bring the listener down an uncluttered trail of human frailty and strength. Rooted in a lifetime of listening to American country and roots music, Lisa has developed her own vocal style that ranges from lilting whispers to growling blues. John's guitar work is an excellent compliment to this duo's sound. Lisa plays acoustic rhythm while he adds rich textures on electric guitar as well as playing melodic slide. Lisa and John sing Everly Brothers style harmonies on both their covers and originals. Their influences range from obscure blues artists like Geechie Wylie to the intoxicating rhythms of Bo Diddley. Lisa is inspired by vocalists such as Norma Waterson and Hank Williams. Writers like Townes VanZandt and Gene Clark heavily influence this duo's style. Lisa and John live in Dallas and perform locally as well as traveling to festivals in the region. Lisa homeschools her children and pursues songwriting and performing in Dallas and throughout the surrounding areas.
http://www.myspace.com/lisawarner

Lyrics

Here in Amarillo

Written By: Lisa Warner

Here in Amarillo a northers blowing in.
Peels away my winter coat and cuts right through the skin.
My mind it goes to wandering, I wonder where you are, way out past the canyon, searching for a distant star

Your dreams were big as Texas, you made it all seem real.
Fortune round the corner, waiting for a lucky deal.
The shadows in your gentle eyes turned things upside down.
Whiskey called you to her side, like a house of cards tumbling down.
Sometimes I feel you move through me like the wind across the plains.
You left me here years ago but the memory remains. It holds me like a fire's distant light.
One more tear in Amarillo tonight.
Dusty days and cowtown ways, they couldn't keep you clean.
Worn out songs of the mother road were all you cared to sing.
We walked by the yellow river and your hand it slipped away.
Twisted round barbed wire you took it all to the highway.
Sometimes I feel you move through me like the wind across the plains. you left me here years ago but the memory remains. It holds me like a fire's distant light.
One more tear in Amarillo tonight.

End Times

Written By: Lisa Warner


RIDING SHOTGUN
SHOTGUN TO NOWHERE
WATCHIN THE WIND BLOW
BLOW THRU YOUR LONG LANGUID HAIR
THE VOICE ON THE RADIO DRONES FOR MILES AND MILES
THE END TIMES ARE HERE YOU REPLY WITH A CROOKED SMILE

WER’E ALL SLOW DANCING TO ARMAGEDDON
IF THE ENDS TIMES MUST COME THEN LET THEM
THE SKY IS ALL ABLAZE ACROSS THE LAND
CURVING ROUND YELLOW LINES HAND IN HAND
SO BABY, DRIVE ON DRIVE ON

SUNS A SETTIN
IN A CRIMSON SKY
TELEPHONE POLES AND
GOLDEN FIELDS PASS US BY
ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD WE CATCH A LITTLE SLEEP
ALONE IN MY ARMS STRETCHED ACROSS THE BACK SEAT

WER’E ALL SLOW DANCING TO ARMAGEDDON
IF THE END TIMES MUST COME THEN LET THEM
THE STARS REEL OVER OUR HEADS IN THE NIGHT
THEY BURN, FLICKER, AND DIE AND THAT’S ALL RIGHT
SO BABY, DRIVE ON DRIVE ON

Rattler

Written By: Lisa Warner


Drop of water on hot cast iron. Feels like your hand on my skin
Sizzle and fire and vaporizes. I reach for you again

Don’t keep me waitin all night long
Cause you know that just ain’t right
I need a lover like a rattler, baby. Coiled and ready to strike

You say you like my cornbread. You like my brand new dress
Of all the women you know. You say you like me best

But don’t keep me waitin all night long
Cause you know that just ain’t right
I need a lover like a rattler. Coiled and ready to strike

I don’t need a diamond ring. Or a man who’s real good lookin
But when my ovens hot. You better be ready to do some cookin

Don’t keep me waitin all night long
Cause you know that just ain’t right
I need a lover like a rattler. Coiled and ready to strike

We can sit on my back porch
Drink and spoon and sing. Shuffle into the back room
Make a little music on the mattress springs

Don’t keep me waitin all night long
Cause you know that just ain’t right
I need a lover like a ratter. Coiled and ready to strike

Brown Gingham

Written By: Lisa Warner

Young Ben Henshaw married himself a wife - Little Nettie Bowen so quiet and so slight
In a brown gingham dress, barefeet upon the floor - He said sweet Nettie Bowen wear brown gingham nevermore

Brown is the color of the dirt beneath my nails
The color of these cabin walls and the backbreaking ground
I’ve bought you some calico in the colors of spring
You know I am a poor man and can’t afford a ring

She walked to him directly and put out the kerosene light - Her dress fell
from her shoulders, she stood naked in the pale moonlight
Nettie could smell the lye he used to remove the toil - She could taste
his sweat mixed with their native soil

REPEAT CHORUS

From the cabin door she watched as he worked the land - She cut and
stitched the calico with a lover’s caressing hand
Cornbread and molasses, a strip of salt cured meat - She unlaced
Ben Henshaw’s boots before they sat to eat

REPEAT CHORUS

Early one morning Ben Henshaw lay ice cold - His body worn out
before he grew old
Nettie dressed her husband and the neighbors gathered round
All to lay Ben Henshaw in the cold, dark ground

Brown was the color of the the ground where he lay
Brown gingham was the mourning dress she wore upon that day
She wrapped her love in calico with the colors of spring
He was but a poor man and couldn’t afford a ring

Uncle Roy

Written By: Lisa Warner

Summer time in Arkansas, ridin’ in between my ma and pa
We drove straight thru into the morning light
Standin’ on the porch by Uncle Roy, my girl cousins and a couple of boys
Ten skinny legs kicking in a double bed thru the night

In the dark I just can’t seem to clear my mind
Can’t see the stars thru the tops of the lonesome pines
Secrets knock upon my young hearts door
Knock, knock, knock it’s the hands of Uncle Roy

Skippin stones over copperheads, smoking cigarettes behind the woodshed
Neither saints nor haints could make us walk the line
Balony and bread in a paper sack, John 3:16 scrawled across the back
No account kids spinning the wheels of time

In the dark I just can’t seem to clear my mind
Can’t see the stars thru the tops of the lonesome pines
Secrets knock upon my young hearts door
Knock, knock, knock it’s the hands of Uncle Roy

Bare feet shuffling cross the wood plank floor, silent he waits by the
bathroom door
Dark and sweaty were the hands that held me tight
And the night birds sang into the southern night

In the dark I just can’t seem to clear my mind
Can’t see the stars thru the tops of the lonesome pines
Secrets knock upon my young hearts door
Knock, knock, knock it’s the hands of Uncle Roy
The hands of dear old Uncle Roy

Crows in a Line

Written By: Lisa Warner


I’m watchin’ crows gather on the line outside my door
They sit in rows and rows, don’t know what they’re comin’ for
Take a picture to release it from my mind, crows in a line

You can push your plow thru rows but you end up where you started from
You can seize the day or lay in wait for another sun
Like a Flyin Jenny turning round, till the mule falls down

Round and round we’re rollin’ down like a wagon wheel in the night
Spiral round together were bound like the dark unto the light
The dark unto the light, hold on tight

Couldn’t say your name but I’ve know you before
Maybe from some distant place, just a parcel of ancient lore
You crept inside my dreams to see, was it really me

I could pry the hands from time and entrust it all to you
The faces change but you can always tell when a love is true
Dangling from a pawn shop watch and chain, only time remains

Round and round we’re rollin’ down like a wagon wheel in the night
Spiral round together we’re bound like the dark unto the light
The dark unto the light, hold on tight

Repeat chorus

Ghost Train

Written By: Lisa Warner

OUT BEHIND THE BOXCAR WHERE THE EMPTY BOTTLES LAY
HE WRAPPED HIS FINGERS ROUND HER NECK AND BECKONED
HER TO STAY
A STINGING KISS UPON HER LIPS. SUMMER’S LAST FAREWELL
SHOES LIKE IRON THEY HOLD HER FAS AS HER MIND BEGINS
TO SWELL

THE WHISTLE BLOWS LIKE A GHOST TRAIN ROLLS
FAR AND AWAY. FAR AND AWAY. FAR AND AWAY

DOWN ON THE DUSTY BOXCAR FLOOR LIGHT POURS THRU
THE OPEN DOOR
BEADS OF SWEAT STRUNG LIKE CHEAP PEARLS HANG
FROM HER CURLS
STARES UP AT THE CEILING GRAFFITI ON THE WALL
TIME RELEASED INTO THE DARK SHE SLOWLY STARTS TO FALL

THE WHISTLE BLOWS LIKE A GHOST TRAIN ROLLS
FAR AND AWAY. FAR AND AWAY. FAR AND AWAY

CURLED UP IN THE CORNER IN A HAZY HOBO DREAM
NOTHING BUT HIS FOOTPRINT LEFT UPON THE SCENE
FUMBLES FOR THE BUTTON ON HER CHECKERED SHIRT
JUST A DAB OF SPIT ON THE FINGERTIP TO WASH AWAY THE DIRT

THE WHISTLE BLOWS LIKE A GHOST TRAIN ROLLS
FAR AND AWAY. FAR AND AWAY. FAR AND AWAY.

East Texas

Written By: Lisa Warner

I was born a couple of miles from the county line. Grew up on the flood plain
Where the houses aren’t so fine
The night I was born I’ve heard my mama say with a sigh
The river rose up to the banks, she’d never seen it go so high

Take me back and take me down to that small East Texas town
Take me back to the banks where I spent my early years
Mixin’ muddy water with my salty tears

Mama stands in the kitchen cookin peas in her yellow dress
Says you’ll never know your daddy and that’s probably for the best
Runnin between the clothes hangin on the line, hot tears rollin down my
Face running barefoot thru the pines

Take me back and take me down to that small East Texas town
Take me back to the banks where I spent my early years
Mixin’ muddy water with my salty tears

Mama sits at the window viewing the world through a dirty lens
Won’t say where she’s going nobody knows just where she’s been
Says stay away from that river, you know it has a snaky bite
I’m standin on it’s banks just waitin for the edge of night

Take me back and take me down to that small East Texas town
Take me back to the banks where I spent my early years
Mixin’ muddy water with my salty tears

Slow Town

Written By: Lisa Warner

Looking out my window, passing in their shiny cars
Got off of the big road and they don’t know where they are
Old Timers used to sit and spin tales around the square
Now there’s nothing but a Diary Queen and a tattoo
parlor there

chorus:
It’s a slow town don’t you know. A few drop in and then they go
Fading back to black and white as the shadows fall on a slow town tonight

The interstate rolls along cutting thru space and time
We’re sitting here dying on it’s long and wicked vine
Stop light by the strip mall, it’s swaying in the wind
Drinking beer in the truck bed, I’m going to watch it change again.

chorus

Pushing up thru the side walk, weeds grow around my feet
Waiting at the corner, same place we always meet
Thought about leaving but I guess I’ll let it slide
Feels real good to have you by my side

chorus

Bridge
Every sleepy Sunday slips right into Monday in a slow town we go down
Every sleepy Sunday slips right into Monday in a slow town we go down
In a slow town, we go down

One Kind Word

Written By: Lisa Warner

Down highway 67 in the cab of a truck, sipping coffee from a thermos
Radio turned up Out thru Pecos county is a long lonely drive
Blurry eyes to the road trying to stay alive

Hawk on a fence post eyeing his next meal something about this land
Gives my heart a chill Littered by the roadside, dreams got left behind
Love songs and ghost stories tumble thru my mind

One kind word carried in on a desert wind soft whispers never spoken would bring me home again, home again

It’s not for lack of trying I’m leaving you today, A sad farewell spoken
Never thought I’d say The silent space between us in ringing in my ears
Loves language lost forgotten through the years

The sun is rising you’re just waking up I’ll head up to Fort Stockton
Gas up the truck Get some bacon and eggs then count up my change
Comfort can’t be found in a land so lonesome and strange

One kind word carried in on a desert wind Soft whispers never spoken
Would bring me home again, home again

One kind word carried in on a desert wind Soft whispers never spoken
Would bring me home again, home again

Discography

End Times

Lisa's songs can be heard on
KDHX radio out of St. Louis, MO.
WOMEN OF SUBSTANCE radio program http://www.live365.com/stations/breenoble
KBIG radio out of Dallas

Set List

Original Songs:
Cedarwaxwing
Uncle Roy
Ghost Train
Carnival Tune
Rattler
Slow Town
Drifter
End Times
Here in Amarillo
East Texas River
One Kind Word
Heart of Mine
Somewhere in the Shallows
Road to Damascus
True Believers
Sunday

covers include vintage country and blues
Harper Valley PTA
Cypress Grove
Skinny Leg Blues
Honky Tonk Girl
Jet Plane in a Rockingchair
Golden Ring
Long Gone Lonesome Blues
Funnel of Love
Mean, Mean Man
Big Iron Skillet
Farther Along
Where the Soul of Man Never Dies
You Ain't Woman Enough to take My Man
You Don't Have to Go

Covers:
Skinny Leg Blues Geechie Wylie
Little Red Rooster Howlin' Wolf
On the Road Again Canned Heat
Going up the Country Canned Heat
Cyprus Grove Skip James
My Babe Little Walter
Temperature Little Walter
Mystery Train Wanda Jackson
These Boots are Made for Walkin' Nancy Sinatra
Shake Your Hips Slim Harpo
Scratch My Back Slim