Disclaimer: Strong Language and Themes



Introduction: Desert Cruiser by Truckfighters

Opening Song: Traffic by Truckfighters

Lost sense of the time on the high way,
Italy to Sweden no stop no breaks.
I hate being in this van
Is the purpose of every single “damn”
probably cause it’s the thing I live for

Contradiction of the soul
Fills my head
I wanna wait won’t you stay

Just longing for the endearing ones
wondering what I do when I do so
I hate being in this van

Music’s in my soul still I feel so troubled
Thorn between the things that really matters
Matters to me

I feel the twang
The loom of what ones where
A bound of you and me

There ain’t nobody?
Who could imagine this
Feels like the break of roam
I feel the fear
And still embrace the loom
I got the roughest crossing in the history to pass

Me to past
This song is about touring in a band and how rough it can be despite the fact that you’re living for your passion. This is exactly how I feel about meaningful RP sometimes. It’s a struggle, one that takes a lot of out you, but in the end you know that it’s worth it because you just keep doing it.
— Floyd

Fluff by Black Sabbath

Mountain Dulcimer Jam

Let's RP With Taage: White Falls Part 5 

Second Song: A Wolf at the Door by Radiohead

Drag him out your window
Dragging out the dead
Singing I miss you
Snakes and ladders flip the lid
Out pops the cracker
Smacks you in the head
Knives you in the neck
Kicks you in the teeth
Steel toe caps
Takes all your credit cards
Get up get the gunge
Get the eggs
Get the flan in the face
The flan in the face
The flan in the face
Dance you fucker dance you fucker
Don’t you dare
Don’t you dare
Don’t you flan in the face
Take it with the love its given
Take it with a pinch of salt
Take it to the tax man
Let me back
Let me back
I promise to be good
Don’t look in the mirror at the face you don’t recognize
Help me, call the doctor, put me inside
Put me inside
Put me inside
Put me inside
Put me inside

I keep the wolf from the door
But he calls me up
Calls me on the phone
Tells me all the ways that he’s gonna mess me up
Steal all my children if I don’t pay the ransom
And I’ll never see them again if I squeal to the cops

Walking like giant cranes
And with my X-ray eyes I strip you naked
In a tight little world
And are you on the list?
Stepford wives who are we to complain?
Investments and dealers
Investments and dealers
Cold wives and mistresses
Cold wives and Sunday papers city
Boys in First Class don’t know we’re born just know
Someone else is gonna come and clean it up
Born and raised for the job
Someone always does
I wish you’d get up get over
Get up get over and turn the tape off

I keep the wolf from the door
But he calls me up
Calls me on the phone
Tells me all the ways that he’s gonna mess me up
Steal all my children if I don’t pay the ransom
And I’ll never see them again if I squeal to the cops.

Firesong by Kevin MacLeod

Night (City Back Street) by Marek Zebrowski and David Lynch

Thor's Stone by Forest Swords

Pensylvania Polka played by Frank Yankovic

The Bullet by The Devil Makes Three

Whiskey by Trampled by Turtles

Black Angels Movt. 3, Return by George Crumb

Night (City Back Street) by Marek Zebrowski and David Lynch

Black Angels Movt. 1, Departure by George Crumb

Third Song: This Lullaby by Queens of the Stone Age

Where, oh, where have you been my love?
Where, oh, where can you be?
It’s been so long, since the moon has gone.
and oh what a wreck you’ve made me

Are you there, over the ocean?
Are you there, up in the sky?
Until the return of my love
This lullaby

My Hope is on the horizon
Every face, it’s your eyes I can see
I plead, I pray through each night and day
Our embrace is only a dream.

And as sure as days come from moments
Each hour becomes a life’s time
When she’d left, I’d only begun this lullaby

Closing Song: And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda by Eric Bogle (covered by The Dubliners)

When I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country said: Son,
It’s time to stop rambling, there’s work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When the ship pulled away from the quay
And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers
We sailed off for Gallipoli

It well I remember that terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was ready, he primed himself well
He rained us with bullets, and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat, we were all blown to hell
He nearly blew us back home to Australia

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When we stopped to bury our slain
Well we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again

Oh those that were living just tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
While around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I awoke in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
I never knew there was worse things than dying

Oh no more I’ll go Waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

They collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind and the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And when the ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity

And the Band played Waltzing Matilda
When they carried us down the gangway
Oh nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all their faces away

Now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Renewing their dreams of past glories
I see the old men all tired, stiff and worn
Those weary old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask “What are they marching for?”
And I ask myself the same question

And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But year after year, their numbers get fewer
Someday, no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong
So who’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
I chose The Band Played Waltzing Matilda because of the particular nature of the melancholy it inspires. It is not just a song of the horrors of war, but of the horrors of life after the war, the element of humanity that is robbed by the brutality of conflict. In a sense, it is not simply sadness, but the jadedness of knowing what was lost can never be recovered.
— Ma1function