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Dean Batstone - Loveskill

by Dean Batstone

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1.
Tumbleweed 04:53
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Tumbleweed Copyright © 2019 words and music by Dean Batstone I’d walk a hundred miles to be with you I’d walk a thousand miles to be alone I know that don’t make sense But I can explain it this way I can call anywhere my home I spent 10 days holed up in the woods Holed up in the woods Writing songs about cars and trains I spent 21 days climbing these walls 4 city walls Wrote songs about dry, dusty plains Tumbleweed me, Lord let me be Where nobody knows my name. I’d walk a hundred miles for a story I’d walk a thousand miles to be on this stage I know that don’t make sense But I can explain it this way I can’t be in the game if I don’t play I can’t move you with nothing to say? I’ve spent 40 years running too hard Running so hard Writing songs about growing my roots Roll gypsy dice in this old caravan Hey, who’s the old man? With souls in the holes of his boots Tumbleweed me, Lord let me be Where there’s no one around to blame I’d walk a hundred miles to be with you I’d walk a thousand miles to be alone I know that don’t make sense But I can explain it this way I can call everywhere my home.
2.
Virginia Backroads Yesterday 04:59
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Virginia Backroads Yesterday Copyright © 2020 words by Dean Batstone and music by Dean Batstone and John Carlson Creeping vines and Spanish Moss Layers shroud a homestead lost Forgotten lands return to dust Machinery to deep red rust No more worn hands turn the orange clay Virginia backroads yesterday. Stinkin’ River earned it’s name For all that died along it’s banks Sister, I can’t make this up Like possum ‘neath the wheels of a pick-up truck No one no more sees the black crows play Virginia backroads yesterday. Cinder blocks and twisted steel 3 dead tractors, 2 with wheels One ran good ’til 1993 Nothing here is painted John Deere green Every colour fades to shades of grey Virginia backroads…. Rebel flag on a mailbox sign Miles from the Mason-Dixon Line Moss soft hills and first growth pine You got yours, buddy, but you ain’t got mine In the Baptist graveyard forgotten soldiers lay Virginia backroads yesterday. At each third house theres a ‘Thank You Jesus’ sign That’s more than those that got power lines A bleached grey barn and on the lean-to side A ’53 Stepside shines with pride I drinks with them thats got the will to stay In the baptist graveyard forgotten soldiers lay Every colour’s 50 shades of grey No one, no more, sees the black crows play No more worn hands turn the orange clay Virginia backroads yesterday.
3.
Cocaine Ain't Workin' 04:06
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Cocaine Ain't Workin' Copyright © 2020 words and music by Dean Batstone I’m sittin’ at the crossroads, busted flat Runnin’ for weeks and I ain’t lookin’ back I bumped into Jesus and he stoled my hat “Let me save ya and I’ll give it back” Well that hat means nothin’, it’s the point is all I ain’t bargained with the Son of God in a while Been mostly the Devil and his white line whore But this cocaine ain’t workin’ anymore Holy Moly Baby, it’s the Devil’s right hand Deep in the pocket of the common man Lord won’t help me while the Devil’s at my door And this cocaine ain’t workin’ anymore. So get thee behind me, ‘cause I know where I been I mined a thousand miles through a cold, dark seam To find one diamond I could call my own And cash in at the company store Yeah, the company closed before I cashed in They all saw it comin’, ‘cept for Jesus and Slim Jesus rose above it, but I sank lower And the cocaine ain’t workin’ anymore Holy Moly Baby, it’s the Devil’s right hand Deep in the pocket of the common man Lord won’t help me while the Devil’s at my door And this cocaine ain’t workin’ anymore I pray for the doctors, the healers and the true I pray for the teachers and the preachers and you I pray for Jesus ‘cause he’s hurtin’, too But don’t lay no prayers at my door The cocaine ain’t workin’… I pray I can find me a bump before dawn Or a bench I can sleep on, or some shit I can pawn I know I’ll be fine, yeah, I’m winning this war ‘And the cocaine ain’t workin’ anymore See it used to blind me to the hate I’ve seen Take the edge off all that’s cruel and mean But nothing heals what the edges have torn And this cocaine ain’t workin’ anymore. Holy Moly Baby, it’s the Devil’s right hand Deep in the pocket of the common man Lord can’t help me while the Devil’s at my door And this cocaine ain’t workin’ anymore.
4.
Sweeten The Deal 06:44
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Sweeten The Deal Copyright © 2017 words and music by Dean Batstone You’re still a beauty, but I’ve stolen your shine The best fruit in the valley, I let spoil on the vine Bitter grapes got no purpose, ‘cept to sour the wine Then fools like me drink it, until we’re poisoned and blind. I don’t expect you’ll be back There’s no shoes at my door I’ve broken an angel I broke angels before I drank myself stupid I trashed all that was real And there’s nothin’ that I’ve done since then To sweeten the deal. My friends rally ‘round me, saying what I want to hear They finish my whiskey, then they drink all my beer In the morning they’re gone and all that remains Is another done wrong song and this chill in my veins. I don’t expect you’ll be back There’s no shoes at my door I’ve broken an angel I broke angels before I drank myself stupid I trashed all that was real And there’s nothin’ that I’ve done since then To sweeten the deal. I’ll love you always I know I won’t change You picked a man who was falling, I picked a girl who was kind I guess breaking my fall ain’t quite what you had in mind So you picked up the pieces, well, the ones you could find Propped me up at the table and you whispered goodbye I don’t expect you’ll be back There’s no shoes at my door I’ve broken an angel I’ve broke angels before And then I drank myself stupid And trashed all that was real And there’s nothin’ that I’ve done since then To sweeten the deal There’s nothin’ that I’ve done since then To sweeten the deal.
5.
The Best I Never Had 03:54
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The Best I Never Had Copyright © 2017 words and music by Dean Batstone There was a time I thought I had it all together So many fallen years ago Time only serves now to remind me Of all of the love I’ve never known Every step that seemed so measured Is hard now to retrace Wisdom born of failing can be sad I would choose it all again And one truth would remain You were the best I never had. I’ve spent a fortune ten times over Trying to win my way to you Turns out you wanted understanding Turns out I didn’t have a clue Every word that seemed so measured Is so hard now to replace In time, I’ve learned that silence ain’t so bad Still, I’d call your name out loud Lift my voice above the crowd You were the best I never had. Every smile I’ve ever treasured Or fumbled to return Afraid, sometimes, to let my heart be glad Was never lost on you Your spirit’s ever true You were the best I never had You were the best I never had.
6.
Dark 04:48
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Dark. Copyright © 2019 words and music by Dean Batstone Dark is power, dark is eyes, Dark is hatred, dark is lies, Lying awake in a cold, dark sweat It wasn’t this dark when I went to bed Light is birth, light’s the way Never a child is born with hate Hate is taught, it nurtures mean Slowly drains our human being Sometimes I feel like killin’, burnin’ every man who’s mean But they ain’t worth the bullets, or the cost of the gasoline We rise and fall to our masters call ’Til our name’s in stone and we’ve seen it all Children’s eyes are colour blind They light to smiles and human kind Human kind is raped by greed Fear and power trump good deeds What’s birthright if a birth feels wrong Measured by where in the world you’re born? Sometimes I feel like killin’, burnin’ every man who’s mean But they ain’t worth the bullets, or the cost of the gasoline Someday I’ll find a big, dark hole, deep and long and wide And I’ll bury them alive Down, down, down, down, down. We rise and fall to a masters call ’Til our name’s in stone and we’ve seen it all, So we rail against this stone Though we may fail against this stone It’s far too great to move alone And beneath it’s where all hate must go Lay down your gold, lay down your guns Put hands to plow and backs to sun Brother’s and Sister’s, the job’s not done ’Til Yellow, Red, Brown, Black, White are one. Sometimes I feel like killin’, burnin’ every man who’s mean Yeah, they ain’t worth the bullets, or the cost of the gasoline Someday I’ll find that big, dark hole, deep and long and wide And I’ll bury them alive Down, down, down, down, down Down, down, down, down, down.
7.
Silent Wars 05:02
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Silent Wars Copyright © 2017 words and music by Dean Batstone Your cold eyes could peel the paint off these old walls When we’re this low, I guess we ain’t got far to fall Watching our troubles multiplying We’re both bleeding, but no one’s dying Silent wars are hard to fight Your best weapon is not sayin’ goodnight You wake up to a battle that’s still ragin’ But you’ve forgotten why ‘Cause it’s a silent war No one’s sayin’….. These lips that used to kiss shoot angry words Like bullets aimed at causing the most hurt Wounded pride’s not the best healer Or silence ever called The Great Revealer These silent wars are hard to fight Your best weapon is not sayin’ goodnight You wake up to a battle that’s still ragin’ But you’ve forgotten why ‘Cause it’s a silent war No one’s sayin’….. Silent wars no one wins As we count each others sins Silence used to mean our sweet reunion Not retreat from a love that we’re both losin’ These silent wars are hard to fight Your best weapon is not sayin’ goodnight You wake up to a battle that’s still ragin’ But you’ve forgotten why ‘Cause it’s a silent war No one’s sayin’…. If pride’s your gun You best lay it down The only battle won In a silent war Is who’s crying now….
8.
Ode To A Killing Man 06:26
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Ode To A Killin’ Man Copyright © 2017 words and music by Dean Batstone A blue collar kind of handsome Like the lead in a Springsteen song He and Katey in a small house Near North, Omaha His high school love for Kate was strong Whiskey always served it wrong Clinton drank most days when work was through Drownin’ stock yard worker’s blues At night he came home with a hole in his heart And a bottle in his hand He took out his rage on Katey’s face She feared him a killin’ man. When Katey wasn’t hiding She was scared to be alone A beauty in her younger years She spent long hours on the phone Lying to her friends about falling down Paralyzed by the haunting sound Of his cursing voice coming through the door His boots on a cold plank floor Katey lay still with a hole in her heart And a bread knife in her hand He laughed ‘cause he knew she weren’t strong enough To kill her a killin’ man. Even thunder can be peaceful If it’s far enough away There’s no peace in the sound that comes crashing down As your feet leave the ground and your head hits the wall again The quiet thud from behind closed doors Neighbours find ways to ignore Is swallowed in a dissonance of pain And the din of a steady rain Katey crept out with a hole in her heart And a note scratched on her hand A cold in her eyes and a steel resolve She’s gonna find her a killin’ man. In the part of town that don’t shut down With the stealth of a cold war spy She finds the man they said she’d know By the black behind his eyes A photograph and a roll of bills She’d squirrelled away for a righteous kill One look at Kate, he had no words to say He took the picture and walked away Katey walked home with a hole in her heart And a trembling in her hands She waited in the dark on the back porch swing For a sign of the killin’ man. Turns out a shallow grave is plenty For a man no one will miss The scars on the face of the woman he made bleed That’ll be his goodbye kiss Katey reached to put cash in the hand Of the one they called the killin’ man He spat on the cold, fresh earth and turned to leave And he said “This one’s on me” Katey drove South for a brand new start Drummin’ her blood-stained hands She quietly hummed a song in her heart It was an ode to the killin’ man.
9.
These Old Blues 04:44
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These Old Blues. Copyright © 2019 words and music by Dean Batstone Rolled these old bones down a dirt road Trying to lose the drone Of hot tires hitting asphalt And a diesel under load Parked beside a corn field Of green and golden hues I sat down at the feet of these old blues. Through the rustling of the broad leaves I took a narrow, skyward view Past the low, faint wisps of white cloud As the indigo pushed through Waiting on some vision To show me what to do I laid deep in the heart of these old blues. I’m coming, Baby That’s what I do But I’m coming slower Than you want me to It ain’t these old wheels Slowing me down Or old friends In these old towns It’s facing the truth It’s only you Can steal me from the arms of these old blues. I pushed hard through the darkness ’Til the ocean stopped me cold A beach of polished jewels Van Gogh’s palette turned to stones Laid down to find my rhythm Bleached driftwood with no roots I was pulled in by the tide of these old blues. I’m coming, Baby That’s what I do But I’m coming slower Than you want me to It ain’t these old wheels Slowing me down Or old friends In these old towns It’s facing the truth It’s only you Can steal me from the arms of these old blues. There’s sweetness on the soft breeze And if I close my eyes I can almost taste the colours As they paint what I can’t hide My eyes fall on the canvas It’s truth is only you See’s me through the eyes of these old blues. I’m coming, Baby That’s what I do But I’m coming slower Than you want me to It ain’t these old wheels Slowing me down Or old friends In these old towns It’s facing the truth It’s only you Can steal me from the arms of these old blues.
10.
Twelve 03:59
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Twelve Copyright © 2017 words and music by Dean Batstone. 12 inches make a foot, yeah Like the one holding me down 12 months in every year lived They speed up while I slow down You know I don’t play blues songs ‘Cept when a blue moon come around 12 pieces of stained glass In this fancy window pane 12 lines in every stanza Must be time for the refrain You know I don’t play blues songs ‘Cause I ain’t much for complainin’ 12 feet for 6 men marching 6 guns to keep us free 12 beers in every 12 pack That’s 8 for you and 4 for me 12 bars in every blues song ‘Cept this one’s got 18 So help me Little Mama It’s only ‘cause I feel the need You know I don’t play blues songs ‘Cept when my fingers need the bleed…I bleed 12 reasons for leaving Not one good reason I should stay 12 steps to your back door, Baby, don’t get in my way You know I don’t play blues songs ‘Cept for the one I’m playing today You know I don’t play blues songs But if you do me wrong, I may If you do me wrong I may.
11.
Dusty Words and Serenades 06:14
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Dusty Words and Serenades Copyright © 2016 words and music by Dean Batstone I pull my boots on the same way I always do I walk those hollowed wooden steps up to the stage If I’m lucky, there’ll be a dozen good folk there There’s 2 that’s drunk and 2 more under-aged Here’s a song about my dog One ‘bout a girl I left behind Here’s one ‘bout some bills I never paid One ‘bout that time in Jersey when I got laid Dusty words and serenades One bar towns with vacant stores Where the barmaid knows my name Twin Pines Motel, second floor 2 buck shooters all night long Pass the hat if you want pay Where there’s always one more song And dusty words and serenades. Now it’s break time, so I buy myself a drink To take the edge off and remind me I’m a star I make a best friend, he buys another round While his girlfriend rubs my leg beneath the bar I guess I might be flattered If I don’t get beat up But I’d rather be alone than test my luck While imagining the front seat of her truck Dusty words and serenades One bar towns with vacant stores Where the barmaid knows my name Twin Pines Motel, second floor 2 buck shooters all night long Pass the hat if you want pay Where there’s always one more song And dusty words and serenades. This old guitar, man, it needs to be laid down It’s damn near broke as I am, anyway The truth is, when there’s no one else around I still play it like I’m at Woodstock on cocaine And the songs that come out wrong When I’ve been drinking all night long Well, there’s no one left to hear them, anyway And they push me down the road another day Dusty words and serenades One bar towns with vacant stores Where the barmaid knows my name Twin Pines Motel, second floor 2 buck shooters all night long Pass the hat if you want pay Where there’s always one more song Dusty words and serenades Yeah, there’s always one more song And dusty words and serenades.
12.
Kill Your Darlings 04:57
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Kill Your Darlings. Copyright © 2021 words by Lynn Miles & Dean Batstone, Music by Dean Batstone Your heartaches and desires Think they’ve got the proof They lead you down the easy road So far from the truth Every lie you've taken Your pride and hurts and fears Leave them on the altar With your longings and your tears Kill your darlings Slay your sweethearts Burn your beauties But make love to your muse Be the hero In your own story Kill your darlings ‘Fore they kill you. Light your pretty candles Whisper any prayer You’re gonna need each blessed one You know this life ain’t fair When your broken down and empty That’s when the light comes in Look them in the eyes and know You’d do it all again. Kill your darlings Slay your sweethearts Burn your beauties Make love to your muse Be the hero In your own story Kill your darlings ‘Fore they kill you. Be still my tongue So I may learn from you Be still my mind So I may know the truth Beat strong my heart Until you beat no more Leave all things better Than they were before Kill your darlings Slay your sweethearts Burn your beauties But make love to your muse Be the hero In your own story Kill your darlings ‘Fore they kill you.

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Recorded in 3 days from Mar. 1-3 2022 in Catskill, NY...musicians together in one room. No auto-tuning and basically live, these are almost all first takes, including vocals. Slips, slides and feels human with no apologies.

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released May 18, 2022

All songs by Dean Batstone, Copyright © 2017-2022 Battunes Music, except ‘Virginia Backroads Yesterday’ [words by Dean Batstone, music by Dean Batstone and John Carlson] and ‘Kill Your Darlings’ [words by Lynn Miles and Dean Batstone, music by Dean Batstone].
deanbatstonemusic.com

Inside Credits:
Produced by The Darker Men - Ryan and Sam Weber [The Weber Brothers], Scott Petito, Gary Burke and Dean Batstone.
Mixed by Scott Petito
Recorded on Mar. 1-3, 2022 by Scott Petito Productions/NRS Recording, Catskill, NY.
Mastered by: Scott Petito
Additional Vocal on ‘Sweeten The Deal’ recorded by Jeff Nystrom Productions

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Dean Batstone Ottawa, Ontario

DEAN BATSTONE - Bio
A veteran of the Canadian Music scene, having performed full time across Canada and The US for over 40 years, Dean Batstone shows no signs of slowing down anytime soon. A charismatic live performer who works solo or with a band, he has recorded 12 full length albums with some of the most iconic musicians in America. ... more

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