Keith Cook - guitar, bass, keyboards, vocals Leon Russell - drums
alternative
punk
rock
seattle
hard rock
oklahoma
death
psychedelic
cosmic
rock roll
stoner
stoner rock
leon russell
sludge
stoner metal
standard
keith cook
standards g r u n g e
Story behind the song
Awhile back I ended up with Leon Russell's drum machine.
I wrote 20 songs around everything left on it and there were 9 that he arranged which are denoted by the number he saved them on the machine as being included in the title, for example (Song 01).
I also included alternate versions of those 9 songs as instrumentals.
Lyrics
This is where creation begun
A knoll rises
The prairies like an anvil
Hot as the sun
green belts along the rivers and creeks, linear groves of hickory and pecan, willow and witch hazel.
All things are isolate On the plain
Loneliness is an aspect of the land.
While were talkin cotton
I returned when My grandmother had died
In the summer the hills seem to writhe in fire
The grass brittle brown cracks beneath your feet
Winter brings blizzards,
hot tornadic winds arise in the spring
there is no confusion of objects in the eye
A tortoise crawling the red dirt
nowhere to go an the plenty of time
While were talkin cotton
The Rainy Mountain of the Wichita Range
the stars of the Big Dipper
I saw for the first time how small it all was.
It was late at night,A warm wind rose
I could hear the frogs the river and feel the motion of the air.
High in the sky a white moon, nearly full
Now there is a funeral silence
An those high gray walls have closed in
While were talkin cotton