Dark Side of The Mountain

by Brandon Fulson

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about

This is Brandon Fulson's second solo release. Recorded at the Arbor Studio in Knoxville Tn and produced by John T Baker and Gray Comer "Dark Side of The Mountain" chronicles the lives of folks in small town Appalachia.

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released June 3, 2016

Produced by John T. Baker & Gray Comer
Recorded at The Arbor Studio Knoxville, Tennessee
Mastered by Seva, Soundcurrent Mastering

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Brandon Fulson Knoxville, Tennessee

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Track Name: Little Las Vegas
Little Las Vegas

Everyone was happy but someone was bound to die.
Blackjack in the corner, you know the stakes were high.
The piano man was pumping at the women's bump and grind.
Old timers on the sidewalk drinking Grand Dad's apple pie.

Outside the sinful racket was the sound of the angel band.
A little preacher from Stinkin' Creek with a bible in his hand.
He said the Lord reigned fire on Sodom and to you he'll do the same.
We all may die a trying but we're bound to make some change.

The old blind preacher is gonna make us or break us.
As the sun goes down on Little Vegas.

The old men tell the stories of the gunslinger's crime
And how that skinny preacher ran whiskey river dry
And now all these years later his congregation's going strong.
But Uncle Bill says every brick was built on his home grown.

The old blind preacher is gonna make us or break us.
As the sun goes down on Little Vegas.

Written by Brandon Fulson
Copyright 2016
Fulsong Music Publishing (ASCAP)
Track Name: Zombie Town
Zombie Town

Pick up the phone, no one to call.
They're doing hillbilly heroin and alcohol.
My friends all look like the living dead.
They wouldn't weigh a buck five soaking wet.

The streets line up on every first.
They come to fill their lungs and quench their thirst.
Spend a little at the Save a Lot
And the Dollar General cause it's all we got.

There's nowhere to run when the sun is going down.
Devil's on the loose and angels can't be found.
Those Sunday morning church bells sure are a lonesome sound
As they ring and the choir sings in a zombie town.

Stacy's lips are ruby red.
Poor little thing ain't got a tooth in her head.
She was the 97' homecoming queen
But now she wears the crown up on 119.

There's nowhere to run when the sun is going down.
Devil's on the loose and angels can't be found.
Those Sunday morning church bells sure are a lonesome sound
As they ring and the choir sings in a zombie town.

Charlie's had a cough ever since July
He just had to have a piece of every pie.
His S.A.T scores were the best
But now he borrows piss just to pass a test.

There's nowhere to run when the sun is going down.
Devil's on the loose and angels can't be found.
Those Sunday morning church bells sure are a lonesome sound
As they ring and the choir sings in a zombie town.


Written by Brandon Fulson & Gary Lee
Copyright 2016
Fulsong Music (ASCAP)
Track Name: Three Dollar Wine
Three Dollar Wine

I shoulda listened to Daddy
When he said "hey laddy don't you know that girl's a whore?
She's done rolled around with every man in town
You better kick her ass out the door.
She's got the looks that kill and she loves them pills
You're 'bout to get yourself in a bind.
She's been writing bad checks for Lorcets and drinking three dollar wine."

Well for all Daddy's bitching, I just wouldn't listen
I thought he had lost his mind.
I never thought I'd get fleeced it was my first piece
And we were doing fine.
So in love she was sent from above stone cold pussy blind.
She was writing bad checks for Lorcets and drinking three dollar wine.

It just goes to show, that you never know
What you might do when you get stoned.
And if you talk real smooth and put on the moves,
She might follow you home everytime.
And if you lay the root to a prostitute you might end up doing time.
She was writing back checks for Percocets and drinking three dollar wine.

So the very next day I stopped to pay some bills overdue
And there on the sign from the FBI was staring you know who.
Wanted for extortion, lying and a whoring down at the five and dime.
She was writing bad checks for Darvocets and drinking three dollar wine

The jig was up and I"d had enough so I flew back to the house
And there on the floor when I opened the door
Was that girl's old white blouse.
I got the scoop she flew the coop and stole everything she could find
She was writing bad check for Xanax and drinking three dollar wine.

It just goes to show, that you never know
What you might do when you get stoned.
And if you talk real smooth and put on the moves,
She might follow you home everytime.
And if you lay the root to a prostitute you might end up doing time.
She was writing back checks for lorcets and drinking three dollar wine.

She was taking back checks for oral sex and drinking three dollar wine.

Written by Brandon Fulson & Gary Lee
Copyright 2008
(Fulsong Music (ASCAP)
Track Name: Eating In The Yard
Eating In The Yard

Lord how I remember, it was way back last September
Them old boys was a picking down on me.
In my coat of many colors passed down from my brothers.
Mama's homemade shoes strapped on my feet.
And my girlfriend little Susie acted like she never knew me
When I passed her friends out in the hall.
And they don't think I knew it, they called me inbred and stupid.
Made me feel about three inches tall.

How I prayed for times to get better
Sitting alone, singing the poor boy's blues.
Then brother came to the school lot said Daddy done hit the jackpot
I'll never forget the day I heard the news.

No more walking to the outhouse in the freezing cold
Cause Daddy got that crazy check and bought a new flush commode.
Mama bought a picnic table on her credit card
Now we're shitting in the house and we're eating in the yard.

Daddy finally got his dream, a new Ford LTD
Drives around for all the town to see.
Mama went to Woolworth and bought us all a brand new shirt
A winter coat and a new pair of jeans.
And we just now got the phone put in, the cable guy came by at 10
We're watching big time wrestling on TV
No more all day hauling logs, we're living high on the hog.
We're off Bull Durham and on the golden grain

These days the times are so much better.
No more singing the poor boy's blues.
No more coal and kerosene, it's all central air and heat
I'll never forget the day I heard the news.

Written by Brandon Fulson & Gary Lee
Copyright 2016
Fulsong Music (ASCAP)
Track Name: Praise The Lord & Pass The Pills
Praise The Lord & Pass The Pills

Beats all I've ever seen, they're building a new Walgreens.
Just what we need a new drug store, must have 20, 25 or more.
Heaven forbid we sell a beer, can't have that stuff going on round here.
No porno stores, no cheap thrills, just praise the Lord and pass the pills.

There's winner's and there's losers and beggars can't be chosers
All rednecks work at the mill.
Raise taxes for the cruisers and crack down on the boozers.
Get out of the car you know the drill.
Why work when you can draw? Bootlegging alcohol.
That's how the preacher pays the bills.
But the hippies and the whores, they're going to hell for sure.
Praise the lord and Pass The Pills.

We got to keep this county dry, start locking up those DUI's
Run Mary Jane plum out of town, can't have them stoners hanging round.
Don't let you son hang at the bar, better send him off to war.
Too young to drink but not to kill, so you praise the lord and pass the pills.

Go to church and shout us down, get out the hat pass it around.
Get in your car, go eat in town, up your nose and put me down.
Judge me I won't judge you, time for little helper red, white or blue.
You say a prescription it ain't an addiction
So you praise the lord and pass the pills.

There's winner's and there's losers and beggars can't be chosers
All rednecks work at the mill.
Raise taxes for the cruisers and crack down on the boozers.
Get out of the car you know the drill.
Why work when you can draw? Bootlegging alcohol.
That's how the preacher pays the bills.
But the hippies and the whores, they're going to hell for sure.
Praise the lord and Pass The Pills.

Written by Brandon Fulson & Gary Lee
Copyright 2016
Fulsong Music (ASCAP)
Track Name: Mary Helen's Gold
Mary Helen's Gold

Leonard headed out for Vietnam,
Heard Uncle Sam could use a few good men
And I stayed home with Mama,
Helping Daddy raise the garden and the kids.
At 17 these flat feet and poor eyesight said I didn't have to go.
I could've went away to college but I went searching for Mary Helen's Gold

Viola was the preacher's daughter, he wanted the best for his only girl
And I knew I could never shower her with diamonds and pearls
So I made a vow to the Lord above, through good and bad to have and to hold.
And on a homemade pair of silver rings
Built our home on Mary Helen's gold.

Spent a lifetime in the shadows,
The mountains held the stars in my crown.
Everyone's looking over the rainbow,
We found our pot of gold there underground.
We kept the country going strong, at 35 young men grew old
And some never lived to tell the tale,
They died searching for Mary Helen's gold.

Daddy's been gone for ten long years
Leonard was found with a needle by his side.
He borrowed change to feel his veins
But couldn't silence the demons in his mind.
Now at 65 I'm on borrowed time, I recall the stories Granddaddy told
About the ones who came before me
And a lifetime searching for Mary Helen's gold.

Spent a lifetime in the shadows,
The mountains held the stars in my crown.
Everyone's looking over the rainbow,
We found our pot of gold there underground.
We kept the country going strong, at 35 young men grew old
And some never lived to tell the tale,
They died searching for Mary Helen's gold.


Written by Brandon Fulson
Copyright 2016
Fulsong Music (ASCAP)
Track Name: The Bloody Bucket
The Bloody Bucket

Ray's hanging 'round down at the Bloody Bucket
Looking for trouble, you know he's found the place.
It was a watering hole with a bad reputation
Where decent folks never show their face.

Ray's got a score he's looking to settle.
Brother Roy done lost his life.
He was dancing down there at the Bloody Bucket
With old man Morgan's trophy wife.

Tell me Ray, I hope you've packed a heater.
There's cut throats and jack offs and lonely wife beaters.
They'll leave you laying until the town smells your corpse.
Don't let the Bloody Bucket send you home to the Lord.

Ray oh Ray, he should've known better,
Old man Morgan owns this town.
They still drag the lake for the people who's crossed him.
We all know they will never be found.

Ray must think he's bigger than Jesus.
You can't fight the law when it's bought and sold.
He drew a bead on the the man that downed his brother
And where the shots came from ain't nobody knows.

Brother Ray you're down in the gutter.
Now Mama's got to lay you down right there by your brother.
Who fired those shots? We may never know for sure.
You done the let the Bloody Bucket send you home to the Lord.

Written by Brandon Fulson & Christopher Russell
Copyright 2016
Fulsong Music (ASCAP)
Track Name: Mackie Bend
Mackie Bend

The sun don't shine at all down on Mackie Bend.
Shadows of the mountain run end to end.
You better take the back road home before the late night falls.
Sun don't shine at all down on Mackie Bend.

The law won't stop at all down on Mackie Bend.
Whisper of the dead rides on the wind.
The rustling leaves on old oak trees send off a warning call.
Law won't stop at all down on Mackie Bend.

The old folks sing the songs about Mackie Bend.
Said there was a witch that mixed in sin.
The child from hell cast a spell that will never end.
Old folks sing the songs about Mackie Bend.

I'll not go back down to Mackie Bend
Better heed what I'm telling you my friend.
There's no way you'd take that chance if you saw what I saw.
I'll not go back down to Mackie Bend.

Written by Gary Lee
Copyright 2008
Track Name: Devil Buys The Groceries
Devil Buys The Groceries

Sarah's down on the corner, she's looking mighty fine.
She may look all innocent but it ain't her first time.
She used to work the truck stop from noon until eight.
But the girls out in the parking lot were the ones who were getting paid.

Sometimes we do things that we ain't proud of.
Sometimes we go down the wrong road.
The Lord he giveth, the government takes away.
The Devil buys the groceries, what more can we say?

Bobby works on the loading dock down at the factory
They threw him the pink slip and headed overseas.
Kevin says to Bobby "we can sell some dope."
Bobby's never broke the law but he's done lost all hope.

Skillet's out of prison, he can't find no job.
Folks in the bible belt won't hire no ex con.
He doesn't want to go back to that dreadful place.
Outside ain't much different so he kills anyway.

Written by Brandon Fulson
Copyright 2009
Fulsong Music (ASCAP)
Track Name: Twisted Scripture
Twisted Scripture

Just look at that crazy fool he's gonna get killed.
Worst of all he thinks he's doing God's will.
Drinking strychnine, playing with a rattlesnake.
That twisted scripture gonna send him to his grave.

Showing faith? Tempting fate? I guess it's all up for debate.
Everyone believes in their own way.
Let me ask you all one time, if it was riding on the line,
Would you lay it down for how that you were raised?

Just look at that crazy fool he's gonna get killed.
Worst of all he thinks he's doing God's will.
Drinking strychnine, playing with a rattlesnake.
That twisted scripture gonna send him to his grave.

Call him backwoods, call him a fool,
He lived and died by his own rules.
Next time that you stop to bow your head.
Remember that man on the cross, shed his blood and paid the cost
While the people at this feet all stood said.

Just look at that crazy fool he's gonna get killed.
Worst of all he thinks he's doing God's will.
Eating with the sinners, healing on the sabbath day
That twisted scripture gonna send him to his grave.

Written by Brandon Fulson
Copyright 2016
Fulsong Music (ASCAP)
Track Name: Southern Country Gospel
Southern Country Gospel

Daddy went out drinking on a Thursday
Came home drunk as hell on Saturday night.
Mama slapped the smile off of his face.
He came back swinging it was sure one hell of a fight.
And I heard the dogs a barking at the car parked down the road
And I saw Uncle Rick a running with his work boots and his clothes.
This might all sound crazy but it was life for me
Cause I knew Sunday morning we'd be a happy family.

Singing that southern country gospel, washing our sins away.
Waiting for that altar call to see who will take the blame.
Singing that southern country gospel, spreading the old time word.
Hoping that God will spare the rod and a drunkard's prayer gets heard.

My sister Roberta she's gone back to rehab.
Left the kids for Maw and Paw to raise.
My nephew Tommy fooled around and got stabbed.
Now he's eating 30's just to ease the pain.
And the whole town's a talking, the Johnson name is stained
Grandmaw says "don't look at me I didn't raise'em to be that way.
We're stubborn and half crazy, the mistakes are plain to see
But we know Sunday morning, we'll all be humble on our knees.

Singing that southern country gospel, washing our sins away.
Waiting for that altar call to see who will take the blame.
Singing that southern country gospel, spreading the old time word.
Hoping that God will spare the rod and a drunkard's prayer gets heard.
I'm praying that God will spare the rod
And this drunkard's prayer gets heard.

Written by Brandon Fulson
Copyright 2016
Fulsong Music (ASCAP)
Track Name: Middlesborough 1974
Middlesborough 1974

You'll never make this curve boy, you're gonna kill us both.
I don't want to be remembered by a cross on the road.
I know you hold a grudge son and that deputy's a punk.
That woman she ain't worth it, so why'd you have to run?

If she moves as good as she looks, I'd lose my marbles too.
Didn't know I was sealing fate when I got in this car with you.
You were always the quiet one, never knew you had this side.
Never thought I'd be the passenger on your final ride.

Candy cigarettes and Converse shoes
Red trucker caps just trying to look cool.
Bubba's cola was all we could afford.
6th grade Mrs. Cooper's class,
We laughed at Jimmy when he pooped his pants.
Friend I don't want to die over your whore.
Middlesborough 1974.

You'll never clear your holster, you're going out in a blaze.
If I'm guilty by association, I guess it's time to pray
And if I make it out alive, should I ask her why?
Would she laugh in my face or would she hang her head and cry?

Quick Stop, Saturday, southern thrill ride,
12 pack, few snacks and crazy eyes,
I never should've opened this old Impala door.
Guns blazing, hammer down, is that an old Haggard sound?
He just smiled as he pushed the pedal to the floor,
Middlesborough 1974

Written by Brandon Fulson & Steve Eisenmenger
Copyright 2016
Fulsong Music (ASCAP)