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SEVEN IS THE NUMBER (2006)

Picture© 2006 Tracy Grammer Music
  1. Seven Is The Number
  2. Snake-Handlin Man
  3. Red (Elegy)
  4. The Promised Land
  5. Hey Tonya
  6. Texas Underground
  7. Gas Station Girl
  8. Long, Black Road Into Tulsa Town
  9. Workin For Jesus
  10. Gun-Metal Eyes
  11. Sarah Turn 'Round

credits

Produced by Dave Carter & Tracy Grammer
Associate Producer: Mark Frethem

Recorded 12/26/01-1/2/02 by Dave & Tracy at Tracy's Kitchen. Initial mixes 2002 by Dave, Tracy, and Mark Frethem at  Doctor Digital. Additional recording, mixing, and mastering by Tracy and Mark at Doctor Digital. 

Package design by Lehndorff Design. Photography by Jeff Bizzell.

Musicians:
Dave Carter: guitars, banjo, keyboards, vocals
Tracy Grammer: guitar, violin, mandolin, percussion, vocals
Donny Wright: bass

quotable

In 2002, Dave Carter & Tracy Grammer were on the fast-track to folk fame. With three critically-acclaimed albums in their discography, a slew of superlative reviews and an aggressive North American tour schedule which included a five-week stint with legend JOAN BAEZ, the duo was poised for greatness. Then, suddenly and sadly, Dave Carter died of a heart attack in July 2002 while the duo was on tour in Massachusetts. He was 49.

With SEVEN IS THE NUMBER, Tracy Grammer fulfills her promise to bring the last Dave & Tracy project to fruition. Begun in the duo's home studio during the winter of 2001-2002, SEVEN is essentially a re-recording of songs from Carter's out-of-print solo album which had been released prior to his collaboration with Grammer. SEVEN was unfinished at the time of Carter's death; Grammer and engineer Mark Frethem finished the tracking, mixing and mastering in May 2006.

SEVEN IS THE NUMBER brings together dustbowl drifters, evangelists and prisoners, politicians and gamblers and defenders of the land. With acoustic guitars, violin, mandolin, and two perfectly matched voices, the arrangements are refreshingly spare and astoundingly appropriate. The frenetic and evangelical "Snake-Handlin' Man" arrives like a bat out of hell after the dreamy, violin-drenched title track, while faux-tuba accents mock the carnival-like underworld in the wry Texas Underground. Mournful mandolin tumbles across the desolate highways of "Gas Station Girl" while "The Promised Land" is an energetic guitar tune rocked by the fires of rebellious and disaffected youth.

This long-awaited, highly-anticipated final release by Dave & Tracy delivers on all the promise of the duo's first three albums, and then some. Coming four years after Carter's death, SEVEN is destined to be both a sentimental favorite as well as a valuable glimpse at the early writings of a musical and lyrical genius. With Grammer's graceful and emotive backing on violin, mandolin, percussion and vocals, SEVEN is an absolutely essential album for collectors of the duo's work. Folkwax ezine advises: "Cherish it." -
Amazon.com Editorial Review


seven is the number

© 2001 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music

mercy my daddy like to roll them bones 
seven is the number of a man 
son, don't you wander through this world alone 
seven is the number of a man 

high is the mountain, deep is the sea 
green is the valley where she waits for me 
wild, wild river, run to my hand 
seven is the number of a man 

how will i find her in the trackless night? 
seven is the number of a man 
follow the dipper to the mornin light 
seven is the number of a man 

high is the mountain ...

one is for all the world in a bright rainbow 
two for the sky above and the earth below 
three for the seeker on the desert plain 
four for the flower in his hand 
five is for pleasure, six for pain 
seven is the number of a man 

high is the mountain ...

snake-handlin man

© 1995 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music

baby i was born to the blood in the service of the lord of hosts
marched through the valley of the shadow of death at the biddin of the holy ghost
baby i would
hey, baby, you know i can

holy fire down in my belly and brimstone in my eyes
everything that a woman might need and the need just might arise
i'm a light-bringer and a soul-singer
i'm a snake-handlin man

six-foot cottonmouth hangin from a tree on a sultry summer night
sling that serpent around my neck and i take him for a ride
baby i would
hey, baby, you know i can

'cause i got a heart that shines in the dark like the road to the pearly gates
you come creepin up the slow lane baby but you know i just can't wait
i'm a fire-walker and a straight-talker
i'm a snake-handlin man

mix that poison up good and strong and lift it to my lips
i'll go preachin in the pale moonlight with a viper in my grip
baby i would
hey, baby, you know i can

nobody gonna turn me 'round or make me feel ashamed
i got the power and i got the right, i'm written in the book of names
wadin that river jordan
i'm a snake-handlin man

well i got the armor and i got the shield and i got the sword of truth
takin that angel harp in hand, gonna pick it with a rattler's tooth
baby i would
hey, baby, you know i can

build this tower on the rock of ages and it reaches to the sky
straight and tall as jacob's ladder, i'm here to testify
can i get a witness
i'm a snake-handlin man

speakin in lost tongues sayin praised be jesus
i'm a snake-handlin man

red (elegy)

© 1995 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music

my love is like a red, red rose
snake on her shoulder and a ring in her nose
sleepin it off in her swaddlin clothes
innocent as she lies

i don't know where she come from
hangin with dealers and slick-back scum
dreamin of a summer that never comes
and waitin for me to die

she is the daughter of the joshua tree
long time losers and o.g. wannabes
mama's in the corn and the fields are fallow
soul needs savin but i'm too damned shallow

sweet maria she's a pretty little nine
kicks like a mule but she barks just fine
i ain't cleaned her in a mighty long time
takin her out tonight

dip her in a bucket of kerosene
mr. rogers on my t.v. screen
friendliest sucker i ever seen
we are precious in his sight

cause we are the children of the joshua tree
longtime losers and o.g. wannabes
mama's in the corn and the fields are barren
roof needs fixin but i'm way past carin

ophelia's drownded in the cold, cold flood
a thorn by any other name draws blood
deep red drops on a scarlet bud
daddy we comin home

we don't know where home lies now
but we'll turn up there some damned how
drawn to the barn and the busted plow
and the graves all overgrown

we are the children of the joshua tree
longtime losers and o.g. wannabes
mama's in the corn and the field's been trampled
you can't reason with a soul in shambles

the promised land

© 1997 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music

brother and sister, mama and pa
livin in a trailer in arkansas
when ya comin home son, well i don't know
still got a couple wild oats to sow

cause i'm just doin what i do best
livin out the legend of the golden west
flyin like an eagle, walkin like a man
chasin my angel through the promised land

friday evenin when the sun go down
it's a five-star party in a one-bar town
dawn come early but that's all right
we can get a head start on saturday night

cause i'm just doin what i do best
runnin with the devil and the dispossessed
waitin on a mission, tryin to make a plan
chasin my angel through the promised land

people say son you're gonna come to harm
better fly right, better stay down on the farm
but there ain't no farm left to stay down on
and all of my reasons for stayin are gone

i don't know, but i've been told
a yankee politician ain't got no soul
my mama said it and i believe it's true
they don't give a damn about me and you

cause they just doin what they do best
workin for the rich, and stealin from the rest
so put me on a highway, catch me if you can
chasin my angel through the promised land

now one fine mornin when my ship come in
gonna pack my fortune, take it home again
stack my sorrows like stones until
i have build me a mansion on a high, high hill

cause i'm just doin what i do best
settin up my table in the wilderness
swimmin in the river, dancin in the sand
chasin my angel through the promised land
chasin my angel through the promised land
chasin my angel through the promised land

hey tonya

© 1996 David Robert Carter, administered by Tracy Grammer Music

jack be nimble, jump and spin
jack's a little hard to handle but he plays to win
now the sheep's in the meadow, and the kids are sleepin
little bo peep, she don't know the company you're keepin

hey tonya
the hour is overdue
for the hunter's moon in you
to come out and shine

hey tonya
i would not take you to task
for the wolf behind the mask
she's a friend of mine

and anytime
they surround you with their silver-bullet tongues
and you can't find a way to face 'em and
there's no place to run

and the queen of hearts holed up in london tower
come thunderin down
and big ben chimes the midnight hour

hey tonya
if you called me i would come
we would make the peasants run
we'd light up the sky

hey tonya
they got nothin left to steal
and if they chained you to wheel
you would pine and die
so would i

now the winner's circle makes the rules in court
we get our spin on the wheel of fortune but we always come up short
so we play the game as long as we are able
but heaven's for the blessed, and the rest is just a young girl's fable

hey tonya
i got nothin up my smile
and i been a good long while
up against this wall

hey tonya
fame is only for a day
and we all have feet of clay
and even angels fall
after all 

texas underground

© 1995 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music

one sunday morning i was sleepin on the sofa, had me a crazy dream
i met the devil in broad daylight, just outta abilene
he took me down a hole where the lost souls go, looked around and 
what did i see
but millionaires and prickly pears, this is what he said to me:

welcome to texas underground
we got a barbeque all year 'round
smokin little band with a country sound
we like to have a little fun

so pull up a chair, you can chew on the fat
gets a might dry, but we like it like that
dance with the lady in the stetson hat
welcome to texas, son

he took me over to hell's rodeo hoppin in his hobnail boots
109 cow punchers in a line, widowmakers waitin in the chutes
the rodeo clown had a scorpion's tail, appeared in a puff of smoke
armadillo ears and horns like a steer, these are the words he spoke:

welcome to texas underground
we got a barbeque all year 'round
red-hot band with a country sound
mister, they're the real mccoy 

so pull up a chair, you can chew on the fat
gets a might dry, but we like it like that
dance with the lady in the stetson hat
welcome to texas, boy

in a little while they opened up the gate, and who do you think walked in
it was the prettiest lady that i ever did see, wearin nothin but a grin
they gave her a vest, a red satin dress, matchin boots and silver spurs
she walked by, she looked me in the eye, this is what i said to her: 

welcome to texas underground
we got a barbeque all year 'round
funky little band with a country sound
ready for an all-night jam

so pull up a chair, you can chew on the fat
gets a might dry, but we like it like that
dance with the feller in the stetson hat
welcome to texas, ma'am

down come a shipment of used car salesmen smilin like rattlesnakes
every politician in the whole blame country claimin there was some mistake
lawyers and thieves and state police, gentlemen of the press
cons and flunkies, slackers, junkies, agents of the irs

welcome to texas underground
we got a barbeque all year 'round
plenty of country singers around
bound to have ourselves a ball

so pull up a chair, you can chew on the fat
gets a might dry, but we like it like that
dance with the devil in a stetson hat
welcome to texas, y'all
dance with the devil in a stetson hat
welcome to texas, y'all 

gas station girl

© 1997 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music 

she ain't no senator's daughter
she ain't no tennessee belle
and i ain't no one but a lone drifter runnin
the road down to playa miguel

i met her out west pumpin diesel
in a town where the sand meets the sea
she was leather and snaps and an old baseball cap
she stole the wild heart from me

so take all your debutante princesses fair
splendid in diamonds and pearls
i'd trade 'em all in for a kiss on the wind
from the lips of a gas station girl

out on the michigan freeway
workin a steady job there
i was pullin a car lot from detroit to charlotte
i guess i just lost her somewhere

midnight through kansas i'd whisper her name
spun in a dust devil's whirl
no one replied but the moon in my eyes
cryin tears for the gas station girl

somebody send me a tailwind
get me as far as l.a. 
with some lines i could use from a honky tonk blues
to keep me from slippin away

lord blow me westbound down ol' 66
out past the end of the world
on a highway that runs through the heart of the sun
to the door of the gas station girl

long, black road into tulsa town

© 1995 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music

i got a world of trouble in mind, the pilgrim said
need somethin to believe in, or someone to be
i got a mountain of worries just pilin up inside my head
it's a curse of the worst kind for a dreamer like me

so he climbed up alone on the turkey mountain ridge
he looked out at the people on the plain
and he saw god that night in the sleepy river and the city lights
but he felt like a loser just the same

states of misery, states of grace
trouble and joy on a young man's face
swing low, sweet chariot, take me down
that long, black road into tulsa town

i gotta roll these tumblin dice again, he sighed
leave it up to good fortune, and the draw and the deal
i gotta put my life out on that table and just let it ride
slip away from these hounds of love that nip at my heels

but over on the back porch in the early mornin rain
sits a girl with a mirror in her smile
insubstantial is the summer breeze as it disappears into the trees
but she holds his eye for a little while

states of misery, states of grace ...

one dreamer got a job someplace, they say he got his life on track
one dreamer got married, they say he sleeps in the sun
one dreamer got strung out young, you know he never really did bounce back
one dreamer got a second chance, and others got none

but this dreamer's sittin on a park bench in a city faraway
and he tells you the story of his youth
forcin a laugh, makin a joke out of bein lonesome and silly and broke
but he still makes room for a little truth

states of misery, states of grace ... 

workin for jesus

© 1995 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music

she's a little overdressed, but it never hurts to shine
she invokes the turtle dove, she awaits the number nine
standin alone in the grey of the morning

but soon the riders come to wait, and they take their papers out
they do not know the girl, but they know that she's about
keepin the light and the warnin

and the bus comes like thunder
and the doves rise around her
and she don't mind the winter
'cause she's workin for jesus
and she's workin for love
she's workin for love

there's a clock beside the bed, there's a bible on the stand
she will come home after dark, she will take the book in hand
feelin the grain of the black leather bindin

and so she speaks to me sometimes of flesh and mortal chains
and where the ashes go, and the spirit that remains
risin like mist, see it shinin

and her words sound like thunder
and the spirit has found her
and she knows how to reach me
'cause she's workin for jesus
and she's workin for love
she's workin for love

well, i have set my foot upon the road of black and white
i have passed the gates of dawn, i am makin for the light
barrin the door on the darkness and sorrow

but she is somewhere up ahead, she is far beyond my reach
she has walked across the sea, she is sleepin on the beach
borderin time and tomorrow

and her days pass in wonder
and the angels surround her
and she don't even miss me
'cause she's workin for jesus
and she's workin for love
she's workin for jesus
and she's workin for love
and she's workin for jesus
and she's workin for love
she's workin for love

gun-metal eyes

© 1996 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music

his mama was a cherokee princess, or so it was said
and his daddy was a seminole rebel with a price on his head
and the other kids teased him but i never did see him to cry
man there was some kind of righteous in the steel of his gun-metal eyes

run with the wolf, fly like the dove
mother below, father above
weep with the earth, sing to the sky
in the steel of your gun-metal eyes

well he grew up in the washes and the rushes and the rain and the wind
and the creatures of the forest and field were his only real friends
and the lily of the valley and the nettle of the plains taught him well
and the new moon shone on him as he wandered through the gully and the dell

run with the wolf ...

now one misty morning he heard the big bulldozers groan
and the chainsaws and the fellin of trees and the breakin of stone
and the boss-man knew better, but he had an empire to raise
and one lone man before him with a rifle and doom on his face

run with the wolf ...

get on home, cried the owner, cause i hold the deed to this land
and i ain't got no time to be foolin with no wild injun man
and he gathered his strong boys around him and he called his police
but there was no lookin back for the son of a seminole chief

run with the wolf ...

now some say he died in the fightin and was buried that day
and some say he raged like an angel and he chased 'em away
but the green hills stand silent, and nobody goes there no more
just the ghosts and the memories and the shadows of the dark forest floor

run with the wolf ... 

sarah turn 'round

© 1996 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music

miss sarah's a dancer, and she steps quick and light
when she spins through my dreams like a thistle each night
and she touches my shoulder, and she smiles in my face
but she don't guess the power of her grace

she was barefoot in pigtails in the silk april dawn
she was skippin in circles on the neighbor's front lawn
and the grey fog was liftin when she blew me a kiss
and a woman stepped out of the mist

sarah turn 'round, you're a fine young goddess
it's a sweet morning in may
sarah turn 'round, it's my indian summer
and the last light of my day
sarah turn 'round, and i've grown older
sarah turn 'round, and i've gone grey
then you're standin by my grave when the sun goes down
sarah turn 'round

i'm a coward for leavin, i'm a fool if i stay
i'm a loser in love 'cause it's simpler that way
and i never would hold her 'cause she's too good for tears
or the weight of these many years

sarah turn 'round, you're a fine young goddess
it's a sweet morning in may
sarah turn 'round, it's my indian summer
and the last light of my day
sarah turn 'round, and i've grown older
sarah turn 'round, and i've gone grey
then you're standin by my grave when the sun goes down
sarah turn 'round

they will tell you it's gospel, but they won't tell you why
how love conquers all in the sweet by-and-by
so we flutter like snowflakes and we twirl in the air
and we melt in our moments of prayer

sarah turn 'round, you're a fine young goddess
it's a sweet morning in may
sarah turn 'round, it's my indian summer
and the last light of my day
sarah turn 'round, and i've grown older
sarah turn 'round, and i've gone grey
then you're standing all alone and the sun goes down
sarah turn 'round    

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