Biografia:
Bryan John Appleby is a singer-songwriter and composer living in Seattle, WA.
Appleby spent a winter and spring holed up with close friends in a Ballard warehouse banging pots, plucking strings, tapping mason jars, and plunking pianos. What emerged from these musical ramblings was the long-awaited debut full-length, Fire on the Vine. The album elaborates on his affinity for organic soundscapes and acoustic found sounds. And yet, the record remains accessible with lush, satisfying melodies.
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Outras músicas:
Quatro anos de trabalho duro!Neste mês de maio fizemos quatro anos no ar. Continuamos trabalhando na divulgação deste maravilhoso instrumento, obrigado por participar da nossa história!
[Intro]
B E B E
[Verse]
B E
You were hiding in the backseat of my Lincoln
B E
Underneath a blanket with your head against the door
B E
And I was already halfway through Ohio
B E F#m
When I heard your soft voice singing to a song on the radio
[Interlude]
F#m B F#m B
Mmmm...mmmmm
[Verse]
B E
I crept out in the darkness of the morning
B E
Past our sleeping father, a cold cigar lying at his feet
B E
He was surrounded by his books down in the parlor
B E F#m
Filled with all the words that he had wanted us to read and know - oh oh oh
[Interlude]
F#m B F#m B
Mmmmm...mmmmm
[Verse]
B E
But this is not an old American story
B E
About the rugged men who came out from the east
B E
And I am not some outlaw from the Badlands
B E
Or a gambler running tables in New Orleans
B E
So I put you on a bus back to Boston
B E
With some money in your shoe for a meal
B E
And I turn my car in the other direction
B E F#m
Just hoping that I hear a note from the backseat
[Outro]
F#m B F# B
ohhh oh ohhh
B E B E
[Verse]
B E
You were hiding in the backseat of my Lincoln
B E
Underneath a blanket with your head against the door
B E
And I was already halfway through Ohio
B E F#m
When I heard your soft voice singing to a song on the radio
[Interlude]
F#m B F#m B
Mmmm...mmmmm
[Verse]
B E
I crept out in the darkness of the morning
B E
Past our sleeping father, a cold cigar lying at his feet
B E
He was surrounded by his books down in the parlor
B E F#m
Filled with all the words that he had wanted us to read and know - oh oh oh
[Interlude]
F#m B F#m B
Mmmmm...mmmmm
[Verse]
B E
But this is not an old American story
B E
About the rugged men who came out from the east
B E
And I am not some outlaw from the Badlands
B E
Or a gambler running tables in New Orleans
B E
So I put you on a bus back to Boston
B E
With some money in your shoe for a meal
B E
And I turn my car in the other direction
B E F#m
Just hoping that I hear a note from the backseat
[Outro]
F#m B F# B
ohhh oh ohhh
Bubbles
Buck 65
Buck Owens
Buck-o-nine
Buck-tick