Revolutionary Hamstrung Blues

Halfway past cool on Monday for the sight of her

Rode in town while he built afar [a fire?] with the riders and then the poor

Hot damn, it’s a mother’s day, don’t you all look fine

Promenading down long car ocean, yes it’s mine and it’s sniffing white

They got poets, shuckers and Godzillas ’round

Mother’s sweet little frozen no suit

We got Speed Racer and his archaic as words1

Revolutionary Hamstrung Blues

Bringin’ all the mares hide in your cabs, honey now loosen your load

You belong to this has-no-name, what

I remember some chicks from the sciz would come along and sit and squeeze too

Silly says, I say it once, for you it’s cold steel and slow

Its sounds have all ruptured, it sounds just like glass

Suspect out in the corners, sounding verse and kickin’ ass

I felt the city have a narly, don’t make the six o’clock news

Speed Racer and the band here playing

As I recall I went for the window, but I never did get me there

Hit me hard with his hickory stick was the last thing I saw, met you

Drag me down and tangle, you carry the charges if you feel

Pray for the day that one yourself, but then figure we’ll lick a few

But when I try to look up, don’t want to let me loosen your load

Here alone take this grenade for me, well I

The forerunner radiates wild help up far now, gun ships pass so far

Pass me a vote, silly, and how we did it all over

Did it all over, did it all over the road

We got broads, suckers, and guys in this jail mother sweet little frozen no suit

We got Speed Racer and his archaic A.M. words

Revolutionary Hamstrung Blues

Words by Robert M. Petersen

Music by Phil Lesh

1 Speed Racer

A 1970s cartoon character still alive in the world of anime.

Notes:

No recordings.

Only performance: March 27, 1986, at Cumberland County Civic Center in Portland, Maine.

Christian Crumlish and Nicolas Meriwether have done considerable work in deciphering this lyric, and the results of their efforts can be found in their article “Revolutionary Hamstrung Blues:

A First Transcription,” which is replete with notes and annotations, in Dead Letters, vol. 1 (inaugural issue, 2001). This version of the lyrics is theirs, because the original probably went through the wash in somebody’s back pocket.