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STANWOOD HOUSE

MUSIC

MUSIC

My musical background began in the bathtub, when I  was a baby. My mother would sing to me, “The headbone’s connected to the neckbone…” She had a collection of 78 rpm records of folk music, mostly from the 40’s, when she had hung out with some of the artists. I was also steeped in classical music from the radio, as well as every other kind; you name it. As a teenager, I hung out in Greenwich Village, where I learned to pick guitar and listen to jazz. Yet, it wan’t until I was middle-aged that I began to write my own songs. I spent 10 years in a string band and then assembled my own groups to record and perform. I have written about 50 songs to date. Lyrics are in alphabetical order at the bottom of this page.

stanwood house - music
stanwood house - music

Music Videos and Demos

https://youtu.be/DafemvwXz_c
https://youtu.be/-_2wiMT1tVc
http://youtu.be/d72bgy9Jj1o

But

Lyrics

Ashkelon

Dancing on the sands
Dancing on the shifting sands
Dancing on the ancient sands of Ashkelon.
Dancing with the past
Swaying with the leaves of grass
Nothing ever lasts, but just moves on
Dancing on the ancient sands of Ashkelon.

Planted on the ground
Reaching for thesky all around
Just the gentle sound of the sea.
Kingdoms rise and fall
Does it really matter at all
One more crumbling wall in history.
Dancing with the past, such mystery.

Dancing in the gate
Where once passed the small and the great
Dancing in the gate of Ashkelon.
Soaring like a bird
Dancing to a song without words
Dancing on the potsherds of Ashkelon
Dancing on the potsherds of Ashkelon.

By the Rivers of Babylon

By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down.
By the rivers of Babylon, we sat down and wept
When we remembered Zion,
When we remembered Zion.

There upon the willows our harps were hung
There our captors demanded of us a song.
Sing us a song of Zion
Sing us a song of Zion

How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land
If I forget thee O Jerusalem, let my right hand
Forget its cunning, forget its skill
Let my tongue cleave to my palate and be forever still

Everything is Mixed

Everything is mixed
Don’t try to get it fixed
You’ll never get your kicks that way

Don’t try to be so pure
You never can be sure
And there’s always something more to say.

You are not perfect nor am I
Needless to expand
But the equation you and I
Equals something grand

Everything’s a blend
Don’t try to comprehend
It’s easier my friend that way

It’s one day at a time
That’s the reason and the rhyme
If you’re ok then I’m ok

We may not live forevermore
Love may not extend
Beyond however long we may endure
But I’m sure it’s till the end.

Frozen in Time

Like a deer blinded in the headlights
Like a blizzard in the state of Maine
Like Frosty the Snowman, Nanook of the North
Or Rosebud from Citizen Kane
Like an insect trapped in the amber
Or a spaceman at the speed of light
Never gettin older
As long as he remains in flight

We are frozen in time, frozen in time
As long as we’re movin together
We are frozen in time

Well it doesn’t take an Einstein
To talk about relativity
We’re all relatin to someone
Like the birds are relatin to the bees
Or maybe it’s the birds relatin to the birds
And the bees relatin to the bees
Somehow I go a feelin
You could be relatin to me

Like old Ponce de Leon
Searchin for the fountain of youth
He would’ve saved himself a lotta time
If he’d only known the truth
That we’re all gettin older and some are gettin wise
To what is at the core
Two bodies movin in space and time
Are all the matter and energy’s for

Garage Sale Hula

I bought a ukulele in Wailuku
At a rummage sale, bought a radio too
From a roly poly lady and she sang a song
While her daughter danced the hula and my wife danced along.

The daughter was round and brown as the soil
And my wife has a figure like Olive Oyl
But she sang so pretty and they danced so sweet
Like tellin’ a story with their hands and their feet.

It rained every day in Houwelo
On the windward side where the trade winds blow
Livin’ off the grid as best we can
Fryin’ our bread in a frying pan

I used to be a broker like Paul Gaugin
Till he ran off to Tahiti to be a natural man
But I wanted to go native and I let myself go
On vacation to Hawaii where the coconuts grow

Now I’m just a middle aged howlee man
Kinda lyin’ in the sun tryin’ to get a tan
Tryin to learn the ukulele to impress my friends
When I get back to the mainland and the journey ends

No man is an island so the poet did say
That means we’re all connected in a deeper way
You can call me bro’ when you see me come
We’re all God’s creatures under the sun.

Grace and Mercy

We were walking on a narrow street
Some foreign city summer heat
Suddenly the gypsy boys came from behind
Picked my pocket robbed me blind

But grace and mercy
Following my way,
How many times
I can hardly say.

You shouted look out for those men
I ran and caught them
And got it back again.

We were driving on a winding road
In the mountains far away
Suddenly you lost control
Skidded in the rain
I thought my life was down the drain

I have been broken
Seen my silver turned to brass
But it’s been spoken
This too shall pass

Haji Baba

Oh my darling oh my bright and precious little jewel
I may have my weight in gold but still I am your fool
Only hear me when I beg you do not be so cruel
Let me take you to the Casbah there my heart to rule

Haji Baba Haji Baba Haji Ba-ba
Haji Baba Haji Baba Haji Ba-ba

You’re the wind and I’m the sail blow in my direction
Let me peek behind your veil see all your perfection
I may have some other wives but you’re my first selection
Let me be your daddy I will be your sole protection

Mr. Haji Baba Sir please do not be offended
We have been your faithful wives to you our wills are bended
But we feel that marriage should not be so open ended
Till we see that to our needs you’ve also fully tended

 

I Don’t Sing For Money

I don’t sing for money, that’s not my gig
Throw some coins in the jukebox if that’s what you dig
I ain’t no idol with perfect pitch
Ain’t got no pitchman to help me strike it rich.

I’m just a guy who sings for free
Still singing commercials from 1953
Oh no, here it comes again
They went out of business, I don’t know when

Brusha brusha brusha new Ipana toothpaste
Brusha brusha brusha, it’s dandy for your teeth.

Don’t reach for your wallet, I don’t need your dough
All I want is to go bo-bo-bodio-doh.
And if you need me, tell you where I’m gonna be
Tin Pan Alley General Delivery.

I don’t sing for money, that’s not my gig
Throw some coins in the jukebox if that’s what you dig.

If I Could Turn it Around

If I could turn it around and see the other side
I’m not so innocent it’s not so cut and dried
If I could go back and see it from above
I didn’t know how to behave, I didn’t know how to love

Now the children are grown and there’s no going back
I gave what I could give and I’m sorry for the lack
Please don’t ask if I’d do it again
I would change some things but that wouldn’t change the end

I thought I could change it all
But pride goes before the fall.

I was a spoiled child so full of guile
Give me me an inch and I’d take a mile
I was so full of rage in an angry age
I needed someone to help me wage my endless war.

I was cut down in my prime
But wounds do heal with time.

If I Live Long Enough

If I, if I live long enough
If I, if I live long enough
If I live long enough to learn
What love is, what love is

Love is a little bit like happiness
Chase it and it runs away
Comes upon you when you least expect it
Like manna you collect it day by day

Love is a little bit like sacrifice
Gaining what you give away
Complaining sometimes you’re only human
But knowing love will always have its way

Sometimes love is a hunger
Sometimes love is a thirst
But I know our love is stronger
Than even what we had at first

Love is a little like business
Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose
Sometimes you sign on the dotted line
But first you gotta learn how to choose.

Josephina

When I met her she was almost pretty
But she was just over the hill
She was 33 and I was 20
And she was movin in for the kill

She had no milk of human kindness
But a wit that could cut like a knife
She only wanted to be called your highness
She only wanted to take over my life

Josephina, she was meaner
Than any man or woman I have ever known
Guarantee ya if ya see her
Like Medusa she’ll reduce ya to a block of stone.

I knew it was a fatal attraction
Just like Oedipus Rex
And she was using Sigmund Freud against me
Mixing everything with sex

That was back in 1972
Maggie Mae was on the radio
When I started to work on Maggie’s Farm
But I was catchin on too slow

Four years later we found the Lord
And things went from bad to worse
Cause now I was married to a prophetess
With the power to bless and to curse

And man she could curse so that brimstone and fire
Would pour down onto my head
It was Isaiah, Hosea and Jeremiah
Unless I did as she said

I was a lamb led to the slaughter
I was a sacrificial goat
I was a captive by the rivers of Babylon
Without a paddle, without a boat

For seven years I served her
Then I served her for seven more
I poured all my riches upon her
Just like that Babylonian war

Then I finally crossed the border
To a place where she couldn’t go
It was the land of milk and honey
Even further than Mexico

But when I came back ten years later
She slapped me with the third degree
Hell hath no fury like a woman
When the woman can’t let me be.

Just the Sound of Rain Falling

Just the sound of rain falling
Just the sound of rain falling
Falling on the leaves
Falling on the eaves
Just the sound of rain falling
Just the sound of rain falling
Falling on the ground
Falling all around

Wouldn’t want to be up in a tree
I’d rather hide in my cabin inside
Just the sound of rain falling
Wouldn’t want to be sailing the sea
I’d rather stay at home today
Just the sound of rain falling.

Ke kani o ka ua E hele lei i-nei
Ke kani o ka ua E hele lei i-nei
Ke kani o ka ua E hele lei i-nei
Ke kani o ka ua E hele lei i-nei
E ole make make oww
I luna okay kumu lai oww
Ke kani o ka ua E hele lei i-nei

Karen

Flying up where the air is clear
Climbing into the blue
Smiling without a thing to fear
I’ll remember you
I’ll remember you.
And if sometimes I wasn’t there
Still I tried to take your part
If you thought I didn’t care
Still you broke my heart

Wanting what you couldn’t even name
Crying out tears of rage
Reaching to grasp it just the same
I’ll remember you
I’ll remember you

And then one day you flew away
Climbing into the setting sun
Night gently following the day
Looking for the lights to show the way

You were so close and yet so far
Landing lights lit up in view
Falling just like a falling star
I’ll remember you
I’ll remember you

Oh my sister oh so sad and brave’
Oh so foolish and so wise
I could love you but I could not save
Your life or see it through your eyes

Life in the Slow Lane

Living incognito on our isle of bliss
Leaving all the world behind, can’t it be like this
The tide goes out and the tide comes in
Apple tree blossoms and the summer begins

That’s life in the slow lane with you babe
That’s life in the slow lane
I’ll live a lot longer with you babe
I wanna live a lot longer with you.

Do you want to read awhile till we close our eyes\
We can talk tomorrow about our whats and whys
The twilight goes on till almost midnight
But we can turn out the light are you sleepy now – quite.

I’ve been around the world and I’ve been to London too
The sunset in Jerusalem is really quite a view
Some days I wake up and don’t know where I’m at
Some say that home is wherever you hang your hat.

I do not care about fortune or fame
I do not care if they ever know my name
I do not want to try any new toothpaste
Living with anyone else would be a waste.

Man Overboard

Man overboard, man overboard
Over the top and over the hill
A little overbearing but I love you still
Man overboard

Can I keep on swimming
Will I reach the shore
Tell me if you’re out there
I can’t wait much more

Man overboard, man overboard
Over the limit and over the line
Well shiver me timbers I’m soaking in brine
Man overboard

Water water everywhere
But not a drop to drink
Should I just go under
I know I’m on the brink

Man overboard, man overboard
Over the rainbow and over the moon
Over my head if they don’t get here soon
Man overboard

I guess that we’re all wondering
How this story ends
Will somebody save my soul
Before I get the bends

Man overboard, man overboard
It’s not over till it’s over and the fat lady sings
Then it’s over in the clover with a pitchfork or wings
Man overboard, man overboard, man overboard

My Old Guitar Rag

I’m keepin’ my old guitar
I thought about puttin’ her away
But I changed the strings
Now she really sings
This baby should do okay.

I like the way she makes an old time sound
As long as I don’t play her too rough.
It’s nice to have her hangin’ round
And not sweat the smaller stuff.

I’m keeping my old guitar
Sometimes she’s a little out of tune,
She’s not the top of the line
But she suits me fine
Not tossin’ her anytime soon.

Sometimes when she sings so sweet
I wanna play her till the cows come home.
She can also turn up the heat
If I wanna make her moan and groan.

Native American Woman

She’s got a beaver in the freezer that she found by the side of the road
It’s not the meat that she’ll eat but the hide and fur that she stowed
I’m confused how it’s used but I guess to be beaded or sewed
She’s an old fashioned lady, she’s abidin’ by a whole different code

She’s a Native American woman singin in a funky string band
Shootin down all my suggestions
She thinks that I’m soundin too bland.

She lives out in the woods with a guy looks like Rutherford B. Hayes
He’s a man of few words but that’s on his better days
Calls himself a mountain man and that’s just the role he plays
We’re all tryin to be authentic in a world of malls and freeways

It won’t be long till this song might be struck from the band’s repertoire
And I’ll be playin kazoo instead of this old guitar
Or be run out of town in a suit full of feathers and tar
Cause everybody’s thinkin that perhaps I’ve been going too far.

One Foot Stuck in the Romantic Age

One foot stuck in the Romantic Age it’s too late now to die young
Like Keats and Shelley, James Dean and Grace Kelly, for me it’s been a pretty long run.
Maybe you get to a certain age, you learn a lot of stuff
I’m just a late bloomer, a baby boomer, I’m tellin ya straight off the cuff
Maybe we’ve entered a different stage, where people don’t lead from the heart,
But follow their heads, playin the odds instead, before they’re even willing to start.

One foot stuck in the Romantic Age, I still believe in belief
If not for me then for those who can be like the lilies of the field in brief
Somewhere between a Romantic, and just an average Joe
A working stiff on the graveyard shift with an hour and a half to go.
But hey, I’m not a clock watcher, and it’s not like I’m not having fun,
Inviting the muse in can be mighty amusin just as long as your not under the gun.

One foot stuck in the Romantic Age, got one more dragon to slay
I’ll take the field with a sword and a shield, well tomorrow if not today
One foot stuck in the Romantic Age and one in the modern world
Don’t mean to straddle, just choose my battles
With flag held high and unfurled
Maybe I’m a Don Quixote or maybe just his sidekick
Disbelief suspended till the story’s ended, or the candle’s burned down to its last wick.

One Life to Live

If I had only one life to live
And I do believe it’s true
I would spend it with you.
You may know what I’m about to say
As you often do
But still I want to tell you that I love you
We’re getting old
Hope we’ll get older still
But I’ve been told
That’s it’s not all downhill

If I had to name the love of my life
No doubt who it’d be
Thank you for lovin me

I was drownin in a sea of strife
Just a refugee
Thank you for stickin with me

Things have resolved
Since I’m involved with you.
I’m a fortunate man
Since we began pushin through

Only a Mild Indication

Sometimes it’s hard to keep believing
That everything works out in the end
I’m tired of all the lying and deceiving
When strangers are calling me their friend

The phone rings I can’t even answer anymore
It’s probably a robo call or scam
I hear the background chatter on the call center floor
And when they speak I don’t understand

It’s only a mild indication
That we’re just like frogs in the pot
Too many have lost all sensation
Of what is real and what is not

The con man’s an expert at projection
He knows our desire to believe
He say’s that he got robbed of the election
But there’s no excuse for being naive

A survey for every transaction
They promise it won’t take too much time
To ascertain our level of satisfaction
With every single question line by line.

It’s only a mild indication.
That’s we’re just like frogs in the pot
Too many have lost all sensation
Of what is real and what is not.

Stand back from the crowd and of a mob beware
My mother often told me as a child.
They always burn their witches in the public square
With their imaginations running wild.

People are Sticky

People are sticky
They get attached so easily
If you’re only lookin’ for a quickie
Don’t fool around with me
Cause I’m stuck on you
And that’s the way that it is.

People are mammals
Somewhere up the family tree
Just like monkeys and camels
Warm and fuzzy like me
Don’t have to say a word
To show the way that I feel

I have a medulla oblongata
Right at the bottom of my brain
It keeps my heart beatin’ and it keeps me breathin’
Just like a choo choo train.

People are funny
Strange but not ha ha
They all make a different kind of honey
From wherever they’ve had their fal-de-ra
And that’s why I’m here
And why I’m singing this song.

I know that there might be some exceptions
Some people really take the cake
They are not sticky but slimy
Not like a mammal but a snake, but in general

But in general, people are sticky
They get attached so easily
If you’re only lookin’ for a quickie
Don’t fool around with me
Cause I’m stuck on you
And that’s the way that it is.

Prodigal

Got a call from Sam
He was in a jam
Could I lend a hand
Yes, I said, I can

Samuel is my youngest son
And after some estrangement
We have had a one on one
And come to an arrangement

He could use a meal
I could really feel
He was being real
So we made a deal

He’ll go back to school again
And finish his degree
What he wants to major in
Is child psychology

Hope he does better than me
Dealing with reality
I’d gladly pay the fee
If it would set him free

Fatherhood is rough
They say love should be tough
To produce the right stuff
But it’s not enough

The biggest part of anything
Is simply being there
And the other part of it
Is learning how to care.

I nearly had to laugh
I was much worse by half
Better kill the fatted calf
Instead of givin him the shaft.

How you doin’ son
Must have learned a ton
Hope you’re having fun
When will you be done

He says everything is fine
But I’m late on the rent
A little more would really help
And when will that be sent.

I’ll send it right away
Yes without delay
You’ll have it in a day
But I was being played

It had been at least a year
Since he’d attended classes
I was seeing everything
Through my rose colored glasses

I must have had a screw loose
I thought no news was good news
Am I a jerk well you choose
Falling for all his boo hoos.

Raised in the Suburbs

I was raised in the suburbs
Had all that I need
Of material comfort
It was all guaranteed
My father he worked in the material trade
He commuted to the city an hour each way

That was back in the mid 20th century days
When the cars all had fins and hula hoop was the craze
We played Davy, Davy Crockett king of the wild frontier
It was before the revolution
But in some ways we were freer.

This morning I heard of a typical kid
Made a goal for the wrong side, they still laugh about what he did
Well he signed up for the army as a young high school grad
Now they’re shipping his body back home from Bagdad

Well I fled from the suburbs halfway round the world
And I’ve learned a few lessons as my life has unfurled
But I never regretted the way I did go
Now I’m singing this song from South Camano.

So remember the Alamo, remember the Maine
And don’t declare victory till the end of the game
You may score one for the wrong side fore you learn how to shoot
And still land up a hero and a sung one to boot.

Seventeen Miles Away

I wanna ride, I wanna ride away
I wanna ride, I wanna ride away
I wanna get down down
Seventeen miles away.

Take me down, down where the water is wide
Take me down, down where the water is wide
I want to walk the sand
I want to sit and watch the tide

Sometimes it’s hard, hard just to be a man
Sometimes it’s hard, hard just to be a man
When you face the music
You can only do what you can

When I came back to this country I went before the judge
When I came back to this country I went before the judge
I got a hundred days in prison
On a misdemeanor he wouldn’t budge

I’ve been high, gained the world but lost my soul
Riding high, gained the world but lost my soul
And I’ve been down so low
Livin on the dole.

I’ve had some women in my life, God knows I’ve had a few
I’ve had some women in my life, God knows I’ve had a few
The good the bad and the ugly
Sometimes it’s hard to know who’s who

The Sky is Not Falling

The sky is not falling
Though prophets of doom are calling
That maybe it will.
Apocalypse is stalling
Which some might find appalling
But we still have time to kill
Let’s settle in for the duration
You can change the station
I’ve had my fill.
The planet may warm
More than the norm
So why don’t we chill.

The Dow may keep dropping
If shoppers stop shopping
Like they did in the boom.
It may be a bear
But I really don’t care
To share in the gloom.
Don’t try to alarm me
The Salvation Army
has plenty of room
And if they insist
And I have to enlist
I can still push a broom.

If they tell you that we’re
Going straight to hell in a handbasket
Well, them’s the brakes.
Sometimes I can almost smell
The sulphur see the burning lake.
If you fall down a well
You can yell but still there’s
Only one way to take
That is higher, don’t expire or tire though it’s dire and you’re stuck in the mire and it’s down to the wire
There’s much too much at stake.

Song for Henri Rousseau

He was an ordinary man
A customs clerk somewhere in France
Till he retired at forty-nine
He lived a life inside his mind

He never left his native land
To paint what he had never seen
The sleeping gypsy in the sand
The world suspended in a dream.

He holds a staff still in his hand
A lion sniffs around his head
Is he asleep or just pretend
His lute is silent as the dead

The moon is watching from the sky
The stars are peering through the dawn
The lion gazes with his eye
The gypsy sleeps until the morn.

And there is even more to tell
The mountains rising from the plain
They play their part they cast their spell
A world where nothing is mundane.

The coat he wears like Joseph’s own
Also a dreamer he was called
Of many colors it was sewn
Will it be torn will he be mauled

They say that always in the dream
Each thing you see is only you
Things are not always what they seem
Or what at first we may construe

A nude reclining on a chair
Where jungle vegetation grows
The creatures deep within all stare
Regarding Henri Rousseau.

The Preacher

The preacher was king in Jerusalem
The wisest man in all the earth
Wives and treasure beyond all measure
Still he wonders what it’s all worth

All is vain the preacher is sayin’
What do you gain from your sweat and strain
It’s all in vain don’t wrack your brain
Too much wisdom only brings pain

Once you had your fill of wine women and song
Preach me the difference between right and wrong
It’s all in vain as the rivers drain
Into the sea and come back as rain

Nothing is new under the sun
Have your fun while you’re still young
Nothing written that hasn’t been told
Enjoy your life even when you’re old

Pie in the sky or mud in your eye
No use wondering bout the by and by
Don’t be to wicked don’t be too wise
Don’t be to righteous in your own eyes

Vanity of vanities, keep your tongue from inanity
Vanity of vanities, guard your lips from profanity
The good old days have never been
Enjoy the time you’re living in
The battle’s not always to the strong
But time and chance happen all along

Before the silver cord is broken
And the strains of music die down
And the pitcher is smashed at the cistern
And the dust returns to the ground
And the breath to the one who imparted
Be thankful for the life that you live
And the love that you share open-hearted
That is all the preacher had to give.

THESE THREE THINGS

THESE THREE THINGS ARE TO WONDERFUL FOR ME
FOUR TOO MARVELOUS TO SAY
I STAND AND WONDER AT THE BEAUTY OF IT ALL
IT TAKES MY BREATH AWAY

THE WAY OF AN EAGLE MOUNTING UP TO THE SKY
RIDING THE CURRENTS IN THE AIR
SPREADING ITS WINGS AS IT SOARS TO HIGH
DANCING AND TWIRLING IN A PAIR

THE WAY OF A SERPENT SUNNING ON A ROCK IT LIES
ITS NAME IS PAINTED ON ITS SKIN
TWISTING AND WRITHING AS IT STALKS ITS PRIZE
TELL ME WHERE IS THE SIN.

THE WAY OF ASHIP IN THE MIDST OF THE SEA
RIDING ON THE SWELL
ON THE BACK OF AN ELEPHANT LIKE A TINY LITTLE FLEA
IN OUR HEARTS WE WISH THEM WELL

THE WAY OF A YOUNG MAN WITH THE WOMAN OF HIS DESIRE
CHOOSING TO SHARE THEIR LIVES
MAKES ME BELIEVE THAT THE WORLD WILL NOT EXPIRE
AS LONG AS THEIR LOVE SURVIVES

Train Song

I can’t explain
It’s like I’m on a train
I see the fields go by
I close my eyes
It’s like I’m hypnotized
I fall asleep for a while

Train is rocking
And my dreams unlocking
All my memories
Shifting places
And I’m seeing faces
From my history

Time just gets swifter
And I’m just a drifter
A comet approaching the sun
My orbit grows small
As I fall and I fall
And the years just rush by one by one.

Can’t stop your brain
And you can’t stop the train
And you can’t stop time
Life is sweet
But the days are fleet
It’s part of the design

Please be patient
Till we reach the station
As we surely shall
Enjoy the ride
Watch the countryside
That’s the rationale

And then it goes back
And it’s hard to keep track
Of where I was when I began
I am him inside
And I cannot divide
The child that is father to man.

Tyee Store

Tyee store tyee store
Everything costs just a little bit more
Shut them winders and close the door
I’m goin down to Tyee store.

My mama brought me up to be a real gourmet
No Wonder Bread or Twinkies in the house she’s say
But here on the South End I’ve been led astray
Tyee Store has ’em by the tray.

Well I was readin’ in the paper today
There’s twenty different kinds of frozen waffles they say
If you want just one and are willin to pay
Tyee store’s just a mile away

If you got the cabin fever or just the blues
Button yer jacket and tie yer shoes
Fer half a dozen eggs whatcha got to lose
Tyee store is the place to choose

If you got an extra million under the bed
And wondrin’ what to do with all that bread
Just put the cash on the barrelhead
You can buy the whole store, they’ll throw in the shed

Tyee store tyee store
Everything costs just a little bit more
Shut them winders and close the door
I’m goin down to Tyee store.

War in the Family

This ain’t Tennessee Williams,
This ain’t Eugene O’Neil
Multiply that by a million
Maybe then you’ll know how I feel.

War in the family
The plot is thickening
Smiles and deception
It’s almost sickening.

It’s like Shakespeare or maybe the Bible
Family feuds in a really big way
If you value your survival
Watch your back and mind what you say.

War in the family
The plot is thickening
All the world’s a stage
The pulse is quickening.

Startin’ out with Cain and Abel
What makes us think we’re a different breed
Lay lay our cards right on the table
Court’s in session, how do you plead.

War in the family
A sword is beckoning
Choosin’ up sides
For the day of reckoning.

Desdemona loved Othello
What made him think she done him wrong
Shouldn’t have smothered her with a pillow
Shoulda trusted her all along

War in the family
It’s so unsettling
Don’t get in the middle
You’d just be meddling.

Don’t have to tell you about Medea
Her husband left her for a younger bride.
She loved her children she was quite sincere
But still she killed ’em cause he hurt her pride

War in the family
It’s so unyielding
Better pay attention
To what your wielding

Absalom may have looked like a hippie
With his hair flowin’ down his back
He was a prince but he was still pretty creepy
Takin’ the palace in surprise attack

War in the family
It’s not just mythology
Any shrink’ll tell ya
It’s only psychology.

Watchin’ the Senora

Watching the senora digging out de’ dande’lions
I’m out on the veranda just about siesta time
The boat in the water looking like a toy
And I’m feeling like a cabana boy
Watching the senora digging out de’ dande’lions

On my island, island in the sea
Two turtle doves perchin’ in a tree
Leave some of those weeds behind
I don’t need an Eden but I’ll take what I can find
Watching the senora digging out de’ dande’lions

Watching the senora digging out de’ dande’lions
She don’t sweat a lot cause de’ weather she’s so fine
Just a little trickle down the small of her back
And her hair hangin down from the brim of her hat
Watching the senora digging out de’ dande’lions

On my island, island in the sea
Two turtle doves perchin’ in a tree
Leave some of those weeds behind
I don’t need an Eden but I’ll take what I can find
Watching the senora digging out de’ dande’lions

White Doeskin Shoes

Oh bury me in my white doeskin shoes
Bury me in my white doeskin shoes
You didn’t like them when I was walkin
Now my shoes will do the talkin
Oh bury me in my white doeskin shoes

You didn’t like to hear them slappin on the floor
You didn’t like to hear them slappin on the floor
You said they sound like patent leather
but they feel light as a feather
Now you’ll never hear that slappin sound again

I’d take you dancin in my white doeskin shoes
I’d take you dancin in my white doeskin shoes
We’d a boogied all around
Kinda floatin off the ground
Dancin in my white doeskin shoes

You Can’t Go Home Again

I was born in New York City, 1949
Near Kingsbridge Station on the IRT line
I can see the trains a-slowin at the station each night
I can see the clocktower glowin with a ghostly light
You can’t go home again, you can’t go home again
You can’t go home again.

I’m standing at the window,
I can’t be more than two
25-25 Aquaduct Avenue
Rosemary Clooney’s on the radio
I don’t know what she’s singing
But she’s crooning sweet and low.
You can’t go home again, you can’t go home again
You can’t go home again.

I dreamed that all I wanted was to beat upon a drum
No one would give one to me but my sister bought me one.
Now my sister’s she’s not livin on this planet anymore
I hope she’s finally happy and I hope she’s learned the score
You can’t go home again, you can’t go home again
You can’t go home again.

Doesn’t matter where you come from
Doesn’t matter who you are
Doesn’t matter if you’ve wandered near or far
If you go by motor or if you go by rail.
If you are in prison or if you’re out on bail.
You can’t go home again, you can’t go home again
You can’t go home again.

12 + 14 =

MUSIC

My musical background began in the bathtub, when I  was a baby. My mother would sing to me, "The headbone's connected to the neckbone..." She had a collection of 78 rpm records of folk music, mostly from the 40's, when she had hung out with some of the artists. I was also steeped in classical music from the radio, as well as every other kind; you name it. As a teenager, I hung out in Greenwich Village, where I learned to pick guitar and listen to jazz. Yet, it wan't until I was middle-aged that I began to write my own songs. I spent 10 years in a string band and then assembled my own groups to record and perform. I have written about 50 songs to date.

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Location

9915 270 St. NW, Stanwood, WA 98292

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