Biography:
Bryan John Appleby is a singer-songwriter and composer living in Seattle, WA.
Appleby spent a winter and spring holed up with close friends in a Ballard warehouse banging pots, plucking strings, tapping mason jars, and plunking pianos. What emerged from these musical ramblings was the long-awaited debut full-length, Fire on the Vine. The album elaborates on his affinity for organic soundscapes and acoustic found sounds. And yet, the record remains accessible with lush, satisfying melodies.
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Four years of hard work!
This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!
This month of May we celebrated four years on the air. We continue working on the dissemination of this wonderful instrument, thank you for participating in our story!
[Intro]
B E B E
[Verse]
B E
You were hiding in the backseat of my Lincoln
B E
Underneath a blanket with your head against the door
B E
And I was already halfway through Ohio
B E F#m
When I heard your soft voice singing to a song on the radio
[Interlude]
F#m B F#m B
Mmmm...mmmmm
[Verse]
B E
I crept out in the darkness of the morning
B E
Past our sleeping father, a cold cigar lying at his feet
B E
He was surrounded by his books down in the parlor
B E F#m
Filled with all the words that he had wanted us to read and know - oh oh oh
[Interlude]
F#m B F#m B
Mmmmm...mmmmm
[Verse]
B E
But this is not an old American story
B E
About the rugged men who came out from the east
B E
And I am not some outlaw from the Badlands
B E
Or a gambler running tables in New Orleans
B E
So I put you on a bus back to Boston
B E
With some money in your shoe for a meal
B E
And I turn my car in the other direction
B E F#m
Just hoping that I hear a note from the backseat
[Outro]
F#m B F# B
ohhh oh ohhh
B E B E
[Verse]
B E
You were hiding in the backseat of my Lincoln
B E
Underneath a blanket with your head against the door
B E
And I was already halfway through Ohio
B E F#m
When I heard your soft voice singing to a song on the radio
[Interlude]
F#m B F#m B
Mmmm...mmmmm
[Verse]
B E
I crept out in the darkness of the morning
B E
Past our sleeping father, a cold cigar lying at his feet
B E
He was surrounded by his books down in the parlor
B E F#m
Filled with all the words that he had wanted us to read and know - oh oh oh
[Interlude]
F#m B F#m B
Mmmmm...mmmmm
[Verse]
B E
But this is not an old American story
B E
About the rugged men who came out from the east
B E
And I am not some outlaw from the Badlands
B E
Or a gambler running tables in New Orleans
B E
So I put you on a bus back to Boston
B E
With some money in your shoe for a meal
B E
And I turn my car in the other direction
B E F#m
Just hoping that I hear a note from the backseat
[Outro]
F#m B F# B
ohhh oh ohhh
