[bass guitar sounds] MAN: One, two, check, check, hey.

NARRATOR 1: On this episode of the Local Groove presents, the Dishonest Fiddlers playing Brown Grass.

MAN: How is it level-wise?

NARRATOR 2: The following program was produced in the Dr. Keiko Miwa Ross WPSU Production Studio in University Park, Pennsylvania.

NARRATOR 3: Support for the Local Groove presents comes from Explore Altoona, offering visitors of all ages art and historical exhibits along with eateries and breweries located throughout Blair County.

Information at explorealtoona.com.

Complete Floor Covering of Lemont, offering carpeting, hardwood tile, and other custom flooring.

Information at lemontflooring.com.

And from viewers like you.

Thank you.

[THE DISHONEST FIDDLERS, THERE AIN'T ENOUGH WATER IN THE WATER"] (SINGING) There ain't enough water in the water.

There ain't enough air in the air.

There ain't enough money in my pocket tonight.

I ain't got no dental care.

Mama's drinking coffee, and Daddy's paved the roads.

Sorry, boys, up ahead, Daddy's potholes.

Grandpa's got your nose.

Sister's riding on coat-tails, taking off her clothes.

Great-grandma drives her station-wagon on the sidewalk.

Folks, you better watch your toes.

There ain't enough water in the water.

There ain't enough air in the air.

There ain't enough money in my pocket tonight.

I ain't got no dental care.

The tall grass is blowing.

The water our sailor's rowing.

He's tired, and it's showing.

He'll take a nap if he gets wherever he's going.

Well, I'm chopping down those meters, bleeding red and wearing red.

You know, you ain't going to get you where you're going till that bull starts using its head.

Now, there ain't enough water in the water.

There ain't enough air in the air.

There ain't enough money in my pocket tonight.

I ain't got no dental care.

Now, buddy, can you spare a nickel?

I ain't got a lousy dime.

Well, I could use another gumball.

I'll pay you back before closing time.

Well, I've been sweeping streets, and I've been whistling, too.

My neighbor went to the dentist.

I'd say, hey, buddy, maybe I could cut the grass for you.

There ain't enough water in the water.

There ain't enough air in the air.

There ain't enough money in my pocket tonight.

I ain't got no dental care.

Well, the government's going broke, and our governor's just getting rich.

Well, I'm just rowing my boat, and I'm going merrily down the ditch.

Now, there ain't enough water in the water.

There ain't enough air in the air.

There ain't enough money in my pocket tonight.

I ain't got no dental care.

Now, there ain't enough water in the water.

There ain't enough air in the air.

There ain't enough money in my pocket tonight.

I ain't got no [yodels] dental care.

[THE DISHONEST FIDDLERS, "HIGHWAY MILES"] (SINGING) Well, I tearing at the tiles of my highway miles.

I'm champing at the bit just to get right out of here.

No, I ain't on the run, ain't hiding from no one-- no one in particular.

I'm just looking out that window, wishing that the wind was blowing through my hair.

Now, I'm rolling down that old road.

I was rolling down my window.

Breeze going through from the place that I once knew.

Buddy, I'm telling you.

There's a lonesome road that goes through the valley of rolling bones, and a mecca, no, you ain't gonna find.

And I've been down those a couple times, and I ain't counting.

No, it don't take very much to me to make up my mind when I'm-- --rolling down that old road, and I'm rolling down my window.

Breeze going through from a place I'm going to.

Oh, buddy, I'm telling you.

Some say things never change.

Some say it's all the same.

Some say you'd better listen just in case.

There's a storm still in a rafter, and I don't know how many chapters it might take for this traveller to find their old home place.

But I'm rolling down that old road, and I'm rolling down my window.

Breeze going through from a place I'm going to.

Oh, buddy, I'm telling you.

I'm tearing at the tiles of those highway miles.

I'm champing at the bit just to get right out of here.

And I roll down that old road.

I roll down my window.

Breeze going through from a place I'm going to.

Oh, buddy, buddy, I'm telling you.

[THE DISHONEST FIDDLERS, "TO YOUR HEALTH"] (SINGING) Well, I woke up this morning with no love that I could call all mine.

Down from the heavens fell an angel holding a bottle of wine.

Brought her down to Shady Grove, wasn't wasting time.

Popped that cork and got ourselves feeling mighty fine.

And I drank to my health.

Yours, too.

Drank to my health again, and let me rest it through.

Drank a little bit more before we stopped.

With bedroom eyes, we harmonized, and sun had finally dropped.

I asked that girl to marry me.

But that said, she said no.

Said by morning she'd be strolling where that streets is lined with gold.

If I treat her kindly, she swore she leave behind whatever we don't finish here if I keep her on my mind.

And I drank to my health.

Yours, too.

Drank to my health again, and let me rest it through.

Drank to the future and my past.

Till we tipped over, as a matter of fact.

When I woke up that next morning, my love, she'd flown away.

The vessel we'd been drinking from was still right there to stay, so I gave a healthy pull to warm these weary bones.

I went about my daily business, prayed she made it safely home.

And I drank to my health.

Yours, too.

Drank to my health again, and let me rest it through.

Drank till I'd almost had my fill.

Drank a little bit more, but then I wrote down the girl.

Well, I woke this morning with no love I could call all mine.

Down from the tree come fell an angel holding a bottle of wine.

Brought her down to Shady Grove without wasting time.

Popped that cork and got ourselves feeling mighty fine.

And I drank to my health.

Yours, too.

Drank to my health again.

Let me rest it through.

Drank till I almost had my fill.

Drank a little bit more, and I told my heart, please be still.

[THE DISHONEST FIDDLERS, "SAM'S CIGAR"] (SINGING) Well, I met her in the middle of the woods one night.

I gave a wink, and away she flew.

Been a long time, but etched upon my mind, I'd never seen a deeper shade of blue.

I was talking with My neighbor just across the way.

Told him the same thing I told you.

Didn't get but a few words out, and I can tell he already knew.

Sam had a cigar story to tell almost every day.

He'd hobble along like that old cloud of smoke, a lantern that led the way.

That was many, many moons ago.

Sam's has passed us on.

You can still smell that cigar in the woods behind the house just before the dawn.

Well.

it's all happening now right before your very eyes.

Sun rose up, rolls back round, and all night I just dream of those eyes.

There's a lantern now at a dead man's house, fog bank rolled it in.

Sam's cigar, it ain't never burned out, and I've get his beaver neath my skin.

But I've yet to find that all ghost again.

But I know that when I do, Sam, he'll be here.

He'll be courting her.

Well, one day I'll join him, too.

Sam had a cigar story to tell almost every day.

He'd hobble along like an old cloud of smoke.

A lantern led the way.

Now, I met her in the middle of the woods one night.

I gave a wink.

Away she flew.

It's been a long time, but etched upon my mind, never seen a deeper shade of blue [THE DISHONEST FIDDLERS.

"MARYLOU'S FLOWERS"] (SINGING) Well, it was an early summer night at the old Orchid Inn.

From all sides of the globe, they were packing them in.

--gave us compass, said to spin.

She gave herself a home.

Said, how've you been?

He drove a tired old beetle and an 11-pack of beer.

Looked up at that dashboard below the missing mirror.

Look, he rode her running.

No need for her to steer.

No business looking backward, nothing to fear.

Countless many nights, time and time again, sunrise would find us on the porch of that old inn.

Even in the morning, trading tales from where we'd been, looking out over a bed that's far and away, but that bus is here yet.

I've got flowers on my back porch.

They came from Marylou.

Asked me to water them.

I said, I'd be happy to.

I was out delivering papers when I got that awful news.

I went home and got to work, and I had plenty to do.

Well, if you look at the way that I'm standing around, wouldn't change a thing at all.

I might not know where I'm heading to of if I'm about to fall.

It might not have the best view, but again, I ain't that tall.

I'm going to keep on chugging till I hit a wall.

And I'll back right up, and I'd do it again.

Back right up, and I'd do it again.

Back right up, and I'd do it again and again and again.

Those bird were singing sweetly from the safety of their nest.

And I'm thinking on that porch again.

Perhaps you might have guessed.

Well, I ain't much concerned, yeah, with being called the best.

I'm just wanting to keep on learning and get a few things, few things of my chest.

This was a quarantine song I wrote called, I Washed My Hands.

[laughs] [guitar sounds] And it goes like this.

[laughs] [guitar sounds] I mean, it goes like this.

[guitar sounds] Wait a minute.

It this thing broken?

[guitar sounds] Yeah, it's broken.

All right.

[guitar sounds] Oh, man.

[guitar sounds] Well, here goes nothing.

[THE DISHONEST FIDDLERS, "WASHED MY HANDS"] (SINGING) Once I fell, kept on falling.

Hit the ground, started crawling till I found a little food.

And in that reflection, I saw the fool.

Better wash my hands of that devil woman, wash my hands of that slimy grease.

Wash my hands of that devil water.

Finally I found myself at peace.

But It took a long time to scrub that dirt off.

You couldn't possess that little black dress.

Took a long time, and it won't take no longer to wash my hands and my two feet.

Now I do confess having bathing with brand new, cleaning, singing in the shower just as loud as I can.

And I washed my hands of that devil water.

I washed my hands of that slimy grease.

I washed my hands of that devil water.

Finally I found myself at peace.

Well, I washed my hands of that devil water-- those serpent eyes, that forked tongue.

I washed my hands of that devil water with that wicked organ--