Rod Fraser

Rod Fraser


I am an american roots musician, performing country, blues and acoustic folk music. Currently, I am headed to Bozeman, Montana to look for work and live. Recently, I recorded a few of my fathers original songs and will be submitting them to a songwriting competition in Bozeman.


My influences are blues, country, bluesgrass and folk musicians among many others. Artists would range from Bob Dylan, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson, Neil Young, Steve Earle, Greg Brown, Jerry Jeff Walker, John Prine, The Clancy Brothers to B.B. King, Stevie Ray Vaughan, the Allman Brothers, The Seldom Scene, Del McCoury, Emmy Lou Harris, and The Band to list a few.


What Do You Think About War?

Written By: Angus J.R. Fraser

Well I had an older brother, he went away to war.

He got his face blown away, and he won't be home no more.

What do you think about war, boy?
What do you think about war?

Ain't it grand?
Ain't it grand?

I went downtown the other week, seems like yesterday don't you know?

I ran into a guy I knew many years ago.

He was riding in a wheelchair with both of his good legs gone.

Yea, he was one of those war heroes, with his war medals on.


Two hundred and fifteen young men lost their lives last week.

The President's in the California White House for a break.

All of the screaming citizens are partying tonight.

Yea, somewhere along the borderline, a young soldier lost his sight.


Bright colored party stickers are waving in his hand.

He's up there on the podium, yelling "I'm your man!"

Elect me to office and I'll bring the soldiers home.

But what about the boy who died last night, screaming all alone?


I wish one time the man in charge would watch the evening news.

And read the death toll figures as they sing the dead man's blues.

Then perhaps he would realize where his craziness has led.

To raise a boy for nineteen years and watch him come home dead.


Off To Americ-a

Written By: Angus J.R. Fraser

I can see the white sails fallin'.
I can hear the sailors callin'.
I can feel the anchor haulin'.
And we're off to Americ-a, oh,
We're off to Americ-a.

Oh, my Grandpa came from Scottish poor,
And my Grandma from old Ireland's shores.

And what they made has long endured.

Far away in Americ-a, oh,
Far away in Americ-a.

They packed their bags and bid adieu, to every living thing they knew.

And prayed to God to guide them through the seas to Americ-a, oh,

The seas to Americ-a.
The seas to Americ-a.

From famine towns where children died,

They come lookin' for their broom or bride.

And now upon the mornin' tide,
They'll be off to Americ-a, oh,
Off to Americ-a.


Motorcycle Driver

Written By: Angus J.R. Fraser

Motorcycle Drive, Motorcycle Driver, Riding them bikes was one of his many joys.

Motorcycle Driver, Motorcycle Driver, Well he was an all-American boy.

He had a Harley-Hog and he looked real mean,
He was rollin' down to New Orleans,
He was headed down route 95.

He had high rise bars and a buddy seat,
He had motorcycle boots strapped to his feet,
Yea, he was the baddest man alive.


Well his helmet was red, white, and blue.
There was nothing that he couldn't do.
He was a hometown hero can't you see?


He had to pick up his girl
He was runnin' late,
He was movin' at a wicked gait,
When the front wheel on his motorcycle blewww.


He went over the hill!
He went down the bank!
He went into the river!
To the bottom he sank!

Now he's a deeeead, Motorcycle Driver!


The Last of The Real Live Cowboys

Written By: Angus J.R. Fraser

I'm the last of the real live cowboys.
I ride on the range all day.
I go to sleep at night 'neath the southern stars,
In the middle of the milky way.

I wake up every morning with my boots already on.
And wash my face up in the stream.
I kiss my horse good morning and I put the coffee on.
Life is but a big long dream.

I left home when I was just a baby.
Pushin' horns for a man in Abilene.
Eatin' beans and bacon from an old fryin' pan.
At the ripe old age of seventeen.

I've always felt at home out on the prairie.
And heaven knows it's where I long to be.
Got a gal in every town from hear to Austin.
How lucky could one man be?



All the boys are sittin' 'round the campfire.
The coyote's howlin' at the moon.
There's a cold wind blowin from Montana,
I bet we'll get some snow real soon.

Life out on the trail's not always easy.
But nothing good ever seems to be.
I know that when I die and go to heaven,
My spirit will always be free.


I'd Follow Her Anywhere

Written By: Angus J.R. Fraser

Silver buckles on her belt.
And silver bells that jingle in her hair.
And a come-and-get-me, kind of look on her face,
And I'd a followed her anywhere.

I met her one evenin' as the sun went down.
She had a pick-up truck and was leavin' town.

She had an open spot in the passenger side,
And said she didn't mind if I came along for the ride.

I had a little something in my pocket to get us high.

And I had twenty-seven dollars and change to get me by.


She had curly black hair and an old straw hat.
She wondered what the hell I was staring at?

I guess she caught me lookin' in the rearview mirror.
But I'd never seen a woman like her before around here.

Hell, I'd never seen a woman like her before, anywhere.


She told me that her mother lived in New Orleans,
And a long time ago she was a beauty queen.

She said we could make it if we drove all night through.
Mama doesn't know you, but I think it'll be alright.

Then she smiled a little smile and we drove off into the night.


The Fishermen Song

Written By: Angus J.R. Fraser

(Verse 1)
Every day out on the sea,
Will be different from your last.

With a mile and a half
Of the trawlin' line,
And the stories of the past.

She'll draw you to her bussom blue
And rock you as you go.

And wash your face with a salty brine, and send you down below.

(Verse 2)

He had the fishin' in his blood,
Passed down from years ago.

His father was a fisherman too,
And he taught him all that he knew.

He taught him how to trim the sail,
And how to read the wind.

And when it was time to go to sea,
And time to come back in.

(Verse 3)

Drawn they were to the rolling sea,
And the things that lay below.

There were tails and scales, and the blood of the whale,
That were stowed down in the hold.

And they showed no regard for the howling wind,
Or the rain frozen in their hair.

As the sun goes down, they'll come around,
And take her for the shore.

(Repeat 1st verse -- end with "stories of the past").



Set List

Original songs mixed with songs written by various pop, country, blues, and folk/traditional artists. I typically play 1 hour sets.