Greg Anton Shares ‘American Spring’ Single Featuring Lyrics By Robert Hunter

Greg Anton shared the single, “American Spring,” featuring words by late Grateful Dead lyricist Robert Hunter. The track is the first in a number of releases which will arrive in 2021.

“American Spring” features Anton on drums, Tim Hockenberry on vocals, Futoshi Morioka on guitar, Ken Greene on keyboards, Chris Wilson on bass and Stephanie Salva on backing vocals. Anton composed the music and added the lyrics from his friend Robert Hunter, which the legendary lyricist wrote more than a decade ago.

Anton shared the lyrics in a press release. Read the lyrics for “American Spring” below:

I was born one American spring
 neck in a noose, arm in a sling rolled from my cradle, cold and numb crawled to the road, stuck out my thumb six days and nights without a ride the seventh someone pulled aside picked me up where I lay dead knocked some sense into my head

I was born one American spring bright dawn of the reckoning clouds had faces feet had wings
 grew up learning American things
 star-spangled church of the grand old flag not some blood-soaked mob up rag 
cops were good, crooks were bad rights were something everyone had


American spring of thee I sing of all the hopeless hopes you bring stars and bones twined in your hair electric music in your stare

Gambled with the bone man one dark night forty-nine cards, we were three jacks light couldn’t tell an ace and a deuce by feel bone man said, shut up and deal
 I built your house and I laid your floor carried your flag and I fought your war silver pistol on your thigh
 cold blue thunder in your eyes

American spring of thee I sing of all the hopeless hopes you bring stars and bones twined in your hair electric music in your stare

American spring of thee I sing 
of all the hopeless hopes you bring of all the hanging ropes you swing of all the bells you never ring

Swore allegiance nearly everyday hand on heart under god we pray it was like religion under holy skies with visions of the stars and stripes none of that makes sense no more thick black waves lap on the shore inner city gunshots ring there’s nothing left to do but sing




American spring of thee I sing of all the hopeless hopes you bring stars and bones twined in your hair electric music in your stare

Listen to Greg Anton and Robert Hunter’s “American Spring” below: