'The Independent Music Show Magazine' July 2019 - Page 10

Psychologist - Writer - MUSICIAN - Steve Bonham

Wide brimmed hat. Long dark coat. Guitar slung on back. 21 years on the road.

A 100,000 miles and half a thousand hotel rooms. From the Berlin Wall to Atlas

Mountains, from Sahara Desert to the streets of Hong Kong: a

memory brewed in the long simmering soup of people and place. A

man who has learned to watch and to listen, to walk and talk in

the ebb and flow of meeting and parting. He is a chronicler of

the human spirit in words. and music.























I thought about how much my entire life had been haunted and inspired by the raw,

simple idea of America. America as legend in a landscape, America as the incarnation of resistance to the baron, the king and the despot. A guiding light in the struggle for freedom. The idea of self-determination where you were judged by your worth not your family. A

place where you could ‘start again’. Where the choices you made cut straight to the

chase about who you were and what you believed.  And I had always been

haunted by the rough-hewn characters of this legend: the vagabond soul, the

outlaw, the bar room queen, the biker, the renegade, the immigrant, the bootlegger, the gambler, the defiant Indian warrior and the broken-hearted hobo. Of strong women and lesser men. Of heroes and villains.

The Last in Line is a song about this spirit and just how tough it was and still

is in many parts of this vast and uncompromising land.


I came across a broken man just sitting in the mud

He’s says I’m just hanging round waiting for the flood

They hung my brother from a tree, they hung my brother high

They burned the homestead down, left him kicking in the sky

Don’t you know, I’m the last in line, Don’t you know I’m the last in line?

This land was always our land, we also had believed

We put our trust in something fine, but we were all deceived

When the iron horse that came roaring, a monster from the east

And no amount of praying could ever still the beast

Don’t you know etc ..

And the sheriff he played Judas and the Marshall he played Jove

And the women of the county, Some hanging rope they wove

And the soldiers and the bankers were all drinking 62

So Pontius Pilate washed his hands and said what am I to do?

Don’t you know etc ..

There’s barbed wire on the open range. Like a crown of thorns

And I ve got to a wishin. puothat I never had been born

When the barons built the fences, to let the temple rings its bells

I‘ve said adieu to what I knew and bid you fare thee well

Don’t you know etc ..

You’ll find my bones when tomorrow comes, a whitening in the dawn

And my hat upon the hemlock tree, its branches to adorn

My broken boots will walk no more, to take the weary line

Nor grace, nor prayers, will linger here not memories leave a sign.

Don’t you know etc ..

© 2018 Steve Bonham and Kev Moore, available on The Girl With The Rattlesnake Heart, Steve Bonham and The Long Road.

This Land Was Always Our Land.

Last in Line

A Beautiful Broken Dream is now available on Amazon and Kindle and both

The Girl with the Rattlesnake Heart and Reliance are widely available.

To find out more visit