by Nate Henricks

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what if its true that i am part you and you are part me? and all that we do is worms for the food of some pointless lost history? sometimes i feel like the answer's gonna fall from the sky then when i come to my senses it makes me feel high sibylline queen deal me my dreams, unravel the skein, reveal the unseen rippling stream, valley of green down where the water's overflowing that is where we are all going
roll me over domino, backwoods radio makes me feel alright never gonna die keep the image in your head there's no such thing as incorrect innocence is gone and i just can't pretend to put it on give me something re-e-e-e-ea-e-ealll give me something real old mans mad and i don't care we're the only sane ones here let the fire burn ghosts are floating down the creek folks are watching their tvs let the circle turn give me something real give me something real give me something real give me something real
every season there's a reason to be sleeping like you mean it when youre the only one around i see the summer sun go down annotation: there's no knockin appalachian irrigation it makes the water trickle down it kinda make me wonder how to move you to move you heavenly hell it kind of takes my energy heavenly hell it kind of makes a fool of me
we may never arrive who's to say what's a waste of your life there's no saving this there's no saving this
Red Chinese Envelope, strange lights appear None of the animals won't go near that bottomless whole Two 1943 Roosevelt dimes God bless that sunken house Goddam burning ice! Are you the rock flyer? Are you the rock flyer? Speak to me through my boombox Some military men come with big machines they drag me off my land, take my identity Are you the rock flyer? I'm going back to the wombat sanctuary
No one knows where this road goes; no one knows where this road goes. And I've never been anywhere. I don't know if throwing stones changes anythayng some people go crazy for an answer but i've got my stupid convictions and i don't care if it takes me 100 moron moons i put that old jawbone up on the fence i put that jawbone on the fence I haven't seen the damn thing since and I don't know if that dog is ever coming home don't worry we've got time and i promise that i'll never go off the deep end and the good times are gonna follow all of our best intentions and we'll get there, even farther than we could have ever imagined and i don't care if it takes me 100 moron moons 100 more wrong moves 100 moron moons 100 moron moons
there's no lesser tale of glory than our minute in the sun ever speck here has a story and youre not the only one all the prison yards of freedom down that hall, o open road you dont have to change to break the mold and you dont even have to break the strangle hold and all you wanted was to find yourself a lie the scope was wide and true it lead you through the night the portal put you through and out the other side the voice is calling you "its time to take that ride"
o wholy dynamo light everlasting see the shine and flee why must we always be out of reasons bear the stench of history i don't care about california wont bow down to nyc never gonna move to (radio edit) cause all you folks make me feel shitty
i remember like it was just yesterday by the wayside we watched the city lights go by man, this radio surely has a mind of its own honey dripping over the town i just want to worship the ground yeah its different every time you take me there a million chapters of an ancient facsimile chain smoking in an all night diner you hear it like a faraway sound hey just let me worship the ground tell somebody that i don't wanna do this any more i just want to worship the ground
i love this endless highway all fucked up and deserted no absence of light will like my way along this testament to waste i never want to leave here this 90's movie poster
no one knows the stillness like your old ancient of days its a broken shovel handle that you'll never throw away in the flower beds of heaven where your grandma lays to rest in the acrid air of the trailer park where it all turns into debt everything is wrong all the young ones watch the coffin close as the wind draws ashes up and i spent my last hundred on a lottery ticket everything is wrong in those old turn styles of heaven where your old man lost his grace they want to put you in those turn styles just put you in your place everything is wrong


Crown Leaf Chorus is my most straight forward Interstate drivin'est album; an homage to those moonshine campfire memoriess and a project of big thank yous to #therollingstones, #vanmorrison, #theband, #bobdylan, #neilyoung, #brucespringsteen, #balfabrothers, #michaelhurley, #gramparsons, @johndarnielle, @patientsounds, and too many other profoundly important people to list here (including YOU)...<3 <3 Thank you.


released April 19, 2016

Mastered by Brian Miller
Photography by Angie Schoenherr
M. Sage and Tiffanie Sage- tape design, creation, and lovin' distribution. Patient Sounds forever and ever


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Nate Henricks Peoria, Illinois

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