Backwoods Song: “Billy from the Hills,” Greg Brown

You are currently viewing Backwoods Song: “Billy from the Hills,” Greg Brown

Whoa, here’s a song with some nifty backwoods lyrics, to give you a shiver, with some realistic content not usually in songs today.

Greg Brown is one a them fine singersongwriters who has a strong feel for upnorth Michigan. Keep an eye on him.

This song has come up for us a couple times now on Pandora. Open a “Greg Brown” station and see if you get it.

Here’s the lyrics:

No one now knows too much about these woods,

They got lost, they wouldn’t know where to go.

Tribe’s been gone a long time, small farmers got blowed out,

Maybe there ain’t even that much left to know.

You can strip the trees, foul the streams, try to hide in a progressive dream.

Ease into the comfort that kills.

Before I do that, I’ll grab my pack,

And disappear with Billy from the hills.

Blood flows back and back and back and back,

Like a river from a secret source.

I feel it wild in me; I pitched my camp

At the fork where knowledge meets remorse.

Women sing in me that song from the ancient fire,

I just open my mouth and what comes out gives me chills.

I got my song from a secret place,

I got my face from Billy from the hills.

A 40-inch barrel on that shotgun,

Steel traps in a cane pack on his back.

Eighteen years old, surrounded by the Ozarks,

Ain’t one little bit of that boy that’s slack.

If you’re looking for a helping hand,

He’ll give you one, you know he will.

If you’re looking for trouble, huh-uh, turn around,

You don’t want to mess with Billy from the hills.

Some folks dance cool, all angles and swaying hips,

Sensual as all get out and in.

Me, I’m a hick, and I dance like one,

I just kind of jump around and grin.

I know a guy, he doesn’t dance too much,

But when he does, he gives everyone a thrill

You might run away or suck it up and stay,

When he dances, Billy from the hills.

There’s a lantern lit on a Missouri night,

A woman writing poems by a stove.

She knows the fox’s whereabouts by knoll, by gulch, by yelp,

As he runs at night through her mother love.

Her memory to me is like watercress from a spring-fed stream,

Fresh and aching as a mockingbird’s trill.

She lives in me; I try to look until

I can see for her and her boy, Billy from the hills.

It’s a drifting time, people are fascinated with screens,

No idea what’s on the other side.

We stare at doom like an uptight groom,

And live our lives like a drunken bride.

Tonight I feel something on the wind,

Deep inside where we have to die or kill.

Something I know I didn’t know I knew,

I learned from Billy from the hills.

(lyrics source: www.lyricstime.com/greg-brown-billy-from-the-hills-lyrics.html )

The clip on Amazon isn’t so hot. I see one reviewer calls this song the centerpiece of a masterpiece album. Hmmm, I may be onto something then. And apparently the song is a tribute to his dad, so maybe Greg knows what he’s writing about. It rang true to me.

Here’s a slightly better 30-second clip than the Amazon one: music.aol.com/song/billy-from-the-hills/1994246

Here it’s part of a whole concert that it seems like you can listen to: cdbaby.com/cd/barnaid

Here’s a Pandora connection: www.pandora.com/music/song/greg+brown/billy+from+hills+live


https://www.amazon.com/Slant-6-Mind-Greg-Brown/dp/B000001BBK/jeffpottersoutyoA

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