Master Number: 11227

Title: ANA11227 Handsome Stranger

Alt Title:

Date Of Creation: 2021-01-01

Active: Yes

Public: No

Composers:

• Andre Christopher Bernier (ASCAP) - 25%
• Carter Vail (ASCAP) - 25%
• Garrett Christopher Fracol (BMI) - 25%
• Reed Ferguson Gaines (ASCAP) - 25%

Publishers:

• Reed Gaines (ASCAP) - 25%
• CANVASMUSIC (ASCAP) - 25%

App Owner's Share: %

Genres:
comedy / quirky, rockabilly, and singer-songwriter

Keywords:
circus, march, off-kilter, old timey, and vintage

Lyrical Themes:
fighting, life on the road, revenge, soul searching, and war

Similar Artists:
Tony Joe White and Waylon Jennings

Tempo:
Fast

Vocal Type:
male

Description: Off kilter march reminiscent of an old western film with spoken word verses. BPM 133

Lyrics: [EXPLICIT] Handsome Stranger This is the story about a boy Who drove all the way from Illinois To Houston in his beat up Chevy van Lit a joint and did a line He shaved his face in record time The desert sun was shining across the land No words of praise nor holy psalm He left his soul in Vietnam He's back for close encounters in the States For millimeters, thirty-five To shoot the streaks across the sky The law has no domain in outer space In photographs the one he's loved She has been taken from above By tractor beams that took her from her Ford He'll search the high and search the low For Barbara Jean Bob Annie-o Missing since the fall of '64 Handsome Stranger Wanders the desert There in his holster Six chamber gun Arms like tree trunks Hung like a race horse Hunting the Earth for alien scum The sherriff has the balls to doubt The batman of this dusty south He doesn't understand the stellar threat So he tilts his hat and spits his chaw And puts his leather duster on Turns his key and lights a cigarette Things have always seemed to stall Where Washington has been involved It seems he's got to be the one to go Its taken years to form a plan The time is ripe to take a stand And save sweet Barbara Jean Bob Annie-O Handsome Stranger Wanders the desert There in his holster Six chamber gun Arms like tree trunks Hung like a race horse Hunting the Earth for alien scum The giant ships that pierced the sky The atmosphere torn open wide The Pentagon lies buried in the dirt If the USA won't get it done The Russians have the loaded gun To blow those motherfuckers from the Earth
 With Gorbochov there at his hip He boards the Sputnik rocket ship With a butcher's knife and fifty fresh grenades Treaties don't mean shit in space At least to Russians, anyways There's only one thing left to do Mr. Gorbochov, release the tigers Release the tigers, Mr. Gorbochov Mr. Gorbochov, release the tigers Release the tigers, Mr. Gorbochov Mr. Gorbochov, release the tigers Release the tigers, Mr. Gorbochov Mr. Gorbochov, release the tigers Release the tigers, Mr. Gorbochov

Style Alike:

Notes:

Created by: Liz Rogers