Matt Price

Matt Price

 Seattle, Washington, USA

Contemporary acoustic performing songwriter; folk, country, blues, pop and jazz influences.


I have been performing for over twenty years, and playing and writing for over thirty. My biggest influences are probably John Prine, Randy Newman and Bill Morrissey. I love a good story. I love irony. I love a cleverly turned phrase and an elegant melody. Hopefully that shows in my songs.


How Many Kinds of Lonesome

Written By: Matt Price

Here I am, it’s coming up on four a.m.
Coming to the end of a lonely night again
All I had was a love that made me glad
But it slipped away with the first real chance it had

I’ve seen some kinds of lonesome nobody should ever see
Like a lonely grave at the bottom of the deep blue sea
But there’s a brand new kind of lonesome that’s come to worry me
Lord, how many kinds of lonesome can there be?

Now, I know I shouldn’t feel bad, I know I shouldn’t oughta be sad
I’ve got all kinds of things some people have never had
But my baby said goodbye she wouldn’t even tell me why
I wanna give it all up and go crawl in a hole and die

I’ve been as lonely as the morning star shining down on Tennessee
I’ve been a lonely dog scratchin at a lonely flea
But there’s a brand new kind of lonesome that’s come to worry me
Lord, how many kinds of lonesome can there be?

Now my life is out of whack. I know she isn’t comin back
She’s at the business end of a long long railroad track
And I know my mind’s not right. I know it’s broad daylight
But it looks to me like the middle of the doggone night

I’ve counted every of lonesome, from one to one hundred three
I’ve had the whiskey kind and the kind you take with tea
But there’s a brand new kind of lonesome that’s come to worry me
Lord, how many kinds of lonesome can there be?

Sweet Sweet Love

Written By: Matt Price

One fine day you met a man
Put a little oil in your frying pan
Came a calling at your command
Stayed all summer to work the land
Time came you realized
He was never ever gonna grow up
But one look in your baby's eyes
Was enough to fill your cup
You feel like you're wearing a golden ring
But he never really gave you a thing
But his sweet sweet love

I knew a gal, I was stuck on her
Tighter than a cockle on a cockleburr
She made me dirty, made me pure
Made me higher than a sweet liqeur
Caused me to howl like a young hound dog
Caused me to whine and beg
She'd scratch my ear on the old bear rug
It would make me to shake a leg
She'd rub my belly and my heart would sing
And she never really gave me a thing
But her sweet sweet love

Somebody wants to love you
You better make note of it now
Remember this day when your down down down
And there ain't a lot a loving around

I fall in love every hour or two
The way the good Lord intended me to
It's better than a brand new pair of shoes
Better than a trip to the London zoo
If you don't understand what I'm talking about
You're gonna find out soon enough
You'll be looking at someone and they're gonna shout
"I don't know what it was you gave me but it's sure good stuff!"
You're making them feel like a queen or a king
And you never really gave them a thing
But your sweet sweet love
Sweet sweet love


Written By: Matt Price

I could be a princess waiting in the night
To see my secret lover step into the light.
And this could be a castle high up on a hill,
The banners brightly snapping, the towers dark and still.

But I'm standing at the window of a Pennsylvania farm
Looking out over the hedgerow, where December angels swarm.

He could be a cowboy, a highway man or a thief,
Or an ocean wandering sailor, come home to find relief.
In my imagination I still tremble at his touch,
And I cling to that old fantasy, like a worn and useless crutch.

But then my sailor stumbles home from an Erie factory,
And he stands there in the living room, like my vanquished enemy.

I picture my tomorrows like soldiers to a war,
One after another, marching past my door.
And I'm standing in the stubble of a frozen winter field,
Looking for the secret so cleverly concealed.

And the black and empty branches are like a page of Monday's news,
And the crumbs of Friday's snowfall go swirling round my shoes.


Serves You Right, a self-released full length cd.
New cd, Cure for the Blues, coming out on Yellow Tail Records, October 23, 2007.