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A NOTE ABOUT PUBLISHING


Want to license a Woody Guthrie song?

If you are interested in licensing a song for publication, recording, performance, or other, please contact the publisher.

Questions? Contact Anna Canoni at: acanoni(at)woodyguthrie.org

All works by Woody Guthrie are held under U.S. Copyright Law.


PUBLISHER'S CONTACT
Look at the bottom of each lyric page to find the correct publisher.

TRO-Essex Music Group
Attn: Sarah Smith
266 West 37th Street, 17th Floor
New York, NY 10018-6609
T: 212-594-9795 x25
E: NorthAmericaLicensing(at)troessexmusic.com
Website


Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc.
(Administered by BMG Chrysalis)
Attn: Gregg Barron
6100 Wilshire Boulevard, Suite #1600,
Los Angeles, CA 90048
T: (323) 969-0988
E: info.us(at)bmgchrysalis.com
Website


Sanga Music Group
(Administered by Bicycle Music)
449 South Beverly Drive, Suite 300
Beverly Hills, CA 90212 
T: 310-286-6600
Website


Michael Goldsen Music, Inc.
MGA
(Administered by Universal Music)

2100 Colorado Avenue
Santa Monica, CA 90404
T: (310) 235-4892
E: umpg.songlist(at)umusicpub.com
Website


 

 

San Antone Meat House
Words by Woody Guthrie, Music by Jay Farrar & Anders Parker

I work in this meat house in San Antone
You call that Rising Sun
It’s been the graveyard for plenty good people
And I’m just another one. And I’m just another one.

Everybody here stays drunk for 24 hourss
Of every new day that dawns
I see more whiskey bottles than I ever see sunshine
In this old San Antonyo Rising Sun. In this old San Antonyo Rising Sun.

Take my word good sinner don’t come here for pleasure
For pleasure here I find none;
I giggle for nickles and laff for a dollar
In this meatblock of old San Antone.

You get drunk to come here (I stay drunk to stay here);
I forget you the minute you’re gone;
You can’t quite remember how terrible I look
In my meat house in Sanny Antonne.

Most guys like you find a different house each time;
You can’t stand too trips to this one;
It’s worse here than in jail or prison
In this Meat House in Sann Antone.

There’s only two things in this sad world I need,
My longneck bottle and my spade;
My longneck bottle I will burn out my body
And my spade will dig my grave.

Goodbye & Farewell to all that you saw me;
Nobody knew me all my life long;
Nobody ever touched me, nodody ever loved me
In my Meat House in old Sann Anntone.

 



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