Thursday, November 30, 2006
KAMP KERR
Jasper James and the CHOIR IN MY HEAD
June 1 2009...Sometimes I romanticise about the old days when the toilets were a stinking mess and the coffee was whatever and the showers were more likely to make things worse. But I wouldn’t want to kick out Starbucks and Home Depot and Waste Management and all the sponsors who have made this such a sanitized escape from the stresses of real life. I never thought I’d be saying this, but the Government is actually running these folk festivals more efficiently than the hodgepodge of hippies and folkies that used to be in charge. It gives us all a chance to get things off our chests so we can go back to work securing the peace in a dangerous world without letting our convictions get us into trouble. JJ
PS...and I want to thank the Ministry of Protest for commissioning and over- seeing the writing of the songs on this CD.
1. AMERICA
2. PALMDALE, CALIFORNIA - 1951
...when it was still today.
3. LITTLE BOYS LOVE BASEBALL
4. WE DON’T KNOW MUCH
5. JESSE
6. ADOLESCENT ANGEL
7. IF YOU LEFT ME
8. TESLA
9. HEROES
10. A NATION ROCKED TO SLEEP
...from a poem by Carly Sheehan
11. SHOES
12. YOU
13. AMERICA reprise
All songs by Jasper James Michael Taylor except where noted.
(C) 2006 Royal T Music (P) txh2o Records
1. AMERICA
America, where are you now? Don’t you care about your sons and daughters.
America, we need you now. We can’t fight alone against the Monster.
Would you believe my mom and my dad would send me off to war.
A “Good-bye,” and nothing more. And then I find out I’m training to be a killer
America...
(1970 by STEPPENWOLF with my arrangement and commentary. jj)
2. PALMDALE, CALIFORNIA - 1951 - when it was still TODAY
Palmdale, California, 1951. Pretty yellow chickens hatching in the sun.
Fertilizer spreader flings its fecal load. I climb up to watch in the trees along the road
Little chickens, running, pecking, darting, so aware
Tiny fluffy brand new babies hatching everywhere
Mojave Desert blows across the street. Calls to fly my kite now: cloudless smiling breeze
I will let my string out ‘til it's all unwound. Kite will fly to heaven. I'll stay on the ground Dusty devil grabs my string and jerks my kite a bit
"Snap," it breaks my string and I go running after it
Quartz path markers sparkle, spread along the trail. Horny toad smacks red ants, stubby
scaly tail. Tumble weeds are bouncing up against the trees. I climb down and bury naked
legs up to my knees... Tiny stickers prick my ankles, grab my socks and shoes I can't stop the itching and I scratch myself a bruise
Army worms are marching westward to the ditch. I stand there and watch them falling
Miniature migration, dusty black and green, following a silent calling
And they wiggle, such a struggle, but it's futile now
They can not escape the heat, no butterflies allowed
Cement chunk of rubble, origin unknown. I called it Bear's Head. I'd go there to be alone
'Neath blast of afterburners, deadly silver bird, echoes of the cannons so recently unheard
And I didn’t know the war was just the day before
And I didn’t know tomorrow there’d be another war
3. LITTLE BOYS LOVE BASEBALL
Little boys play baseball. The rules are very clear. You know if you're first or second or short or if you're forth on the batting order. Little boys play baseball.
Little boys love baseball on a sunny day. When Mom or Dad come to cheer for you there’s nothing more fun to do. Little boys love baseball.
It's a game with rules a child can understand. The score is how you tell who loses and who wins. And you know when the game is over. And you know there'll be another day. And you hop on to your bike and whistle a homeward way
Little boys love baseball. It's something they can do. A uniform and a shiny leather mitt. And there's a place where every little boy can fit. Little boys love baseball. .
A game with rules a child can understand. The score is how you tell who loses and who wins. And you know when the game is over. And you know there'll be another day. And you hop on to your bike and whistle a homeward way
Little boys miss baseball when they grow up to be men. When the game isn't over and it's getting dark and the rules aren't much good outside the park, little boys miss baseball
4. WE DON'T KNOW MUCH
I was mowing the lawn and it hit me!
We don't know much.
We can be sad and not know why
We can say we're happy and know that it's a lie
We can say we're finished and start right up again
We can swear we're losing and turn around and win
We can yearn for heaven and be afraid of hell
But it might just all be over if we tripped into a well
We don't know much
We know it's going to rain but we don't know where or when
We can guess and be right and be wrong when we guess again
We can think our love will last forever and lose interest in a year
We can say "Good-bye" to someone and they won't even hear
We can swear we saw a space ship but never be for sure
We can sell our wart to someone but that might not be the cure
We don't know much
We think hoping makes things happen and we hope it's true
But would it happen any way? Do we really have a clue
When we pray are we just asking for what's already on it's way
Now, tell me, is that true or just something that we say
When Dad says, "Wear your hat so you won't get sunstroke"
Did he read that somewhere and doesn't he know that it's a joke
We don't know much
We can't imagine being sick when we are feeling fine
We can't imagine being well when, in sickness, we recline
We can't imagine time coming to an end
But we believe all things have to begin.
And when we kill people who disagree about what happens
when we die. How can we refuse to face facts about the things
we know when we are alive. We don't know much!
5. JESSE
I never met Jesse, but I heard her howl in the night and I
heard her pups yelping for whatever they were yelping for.
She was strong and she was there. And in the Texas night,
out on the prairie between Alvarado and Lillian,
you could hear them singing their song.
I never saw Jesse, but sometime late at night
I lie awake and listen and I wonder whatever happened to Jesse .
6. ADOLESCENT ANGEL
Morning sun shines thru the curtains throwing shadows on your
face. I completely lose my bearings. Lose all sense of time and
space. Like an ADOLESCENT ANGEL, come to sleep here in
your place. Morning sun shines thru the curtains. Dancing shadows
on your face... Is it light or is it magic. Is it love or is it grace
Could an ADOLESCENT ANGEL really live there in your face
Sometimes as the day progresses she gets swept up in the race
Morning sunlight soon renews her. Yesterday leaves not a trace.
Could an ADOLESCENT ANGEL be the spirit you convey
Could an ADOLESCENT ANGEL deliver you to me each day...etc
7. IF YOU LEFT ME written with Lisa Aschmann
(With Lisa sitting there at the table with me.)
I wrote all the words and music.
But I changed course a time or two at her bidding.
I'm not going to write songs like this any more.
Songs seem to have a prophetic power
I'm not eager to play into any more.
IF YOU LEFT ME, I wouldn't want to talk. I'd set your sandals
by the curb and then I'd take a little walk. I'd buy a roll of paper
towels to soak up every tear. Then I'd hang it on the clothesline
and watch them disappear.
IF YOU LEFT ME I wouldn't want to think. I'd buy a batch of
oopsy paint and mix it right here in the sink. And I'd paint out all
your colors and I'd paint out all your smells. Paint whiskers on all
your pictures. Have my way with your pastels
I'd bang my head against the window 'til I broke out all the pane. Throw your beach towels on the counter to soak up all the rain
IF YOU LEFT ME I wouldn't want to eat. I'd stash the bird food
in the freezer next to your parakeet and I'd scoff at all my hunger
and I'd be mean as I could be. And I'd waste away to nothing just
so you couldn't see *..*
IF YOU LEFT ME I wouldn't want to live. I'd be a rhyme without a reason, a rope without a shiv. I'd steal the paper from the neighbors
and leave my trash out by the curb. I'd turn on my car alarm, hang
out a sign: DO NOT DISTURB..© 2005 Royal T Music/Nashville Geographic
8. TESLA (1856 - 1943)
Who invented remote control? Tesla!
Who invented the fluorescent light? Tesla!
Who invented the radio? Tesla!
And who died alone and forgotten in 1943? Tesla!
So, you say, “Now, don’t be angry.”
And you say, “Just tell the story.”
But I’d like to ask a question: ”Why?”
Dumbing down. Dumbing down.
Who’d you never hear about in high school? Tesla!
Who’d you never hear about in college? Tesla!
Who’d you never hear about in science? Tesla!
Who’d you never hear about in physics? Tesla!
So, you say, “Now, don’t be angry.”
And you say, “Just tell the story.”
But I’d like to ask a question: ”Why?”
And what on earth would you do with a remote control devise?
Why didn’t anybody mention Tesla?
Why didn’t teachers tell us about Tesla?
Why didn't they even know about Tesla?
So, don’t tell me, “Don’t be angry.”
And I’ll try to tell the story
but right now I ask the question, “Why?”
Dumbing down. Dumbing down.
A guy named Marconi gets the Nobel Prize for inventing the radio.
So, what does Tesla do?
He invents this thing called the induction motor and he makes a deal with Westinghouse.
He lights up the Chicago World’s Fair with alternating current.
Take that Thomas “DC” Edison.
All praise Westinghouse. Let’s all praise Westinghouse.
And a nickety nackity Edison too.
So Westinghouse treats Tesla like the Unites States government treated the natives.
Lie, lie, lie.
Who could create and control plasma balls? Tesla!
And who created 100 foot lightning bolts? Tesla!
And who discovered the rotating magnetic field principle? Tesla!
And who invented the Tesla Coil? Tesla!
Did he really waste a lot a lot of money on silly projects.
Dang fool, thought we could control the weather.
It wasn’t Tesla that said that it was, “ 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration.”
That was Thomas Edison.
9. HEROES
This came out of a conversation Cindy Sheehan and I were having back before she got famous.
Well, I ain't no hero. I'm just trying to survive. No, me and Cindy, we're just staying alive. We got a hurt in our heart and a tear in our eye. But we ain’t heroes.....Small town constable he liked to play cop. He got a cop radio and turned it way up. Chased a stolen van and he signaled 'em to stop...Small town constable got his self dead. Blew the shirt off his shoulders, the hat off his head. Shotgun blast turned everything red.....So he had hisself a funeral one fine day. Every cop in Texas came to sing his praise. Sounded like thunder when they roared away. Called him little rooster under their breath. “Just another unnecessary death.” Could have said it out loud but instead they called him a HERO So let's take a closer listen to this hero talk. When you save your own skin it's not a hero's walk. If the shoe don't fit you don't call it a sock. If you got an alligator you don't call it a crock. When you blacken up your skillet you don't call it a wok. You catch a school of fish you don't call it a flock. When you eat up all the gumbo you just gotta restock. If the boat don't float you don't call it Iraq. You call it a peerow.....It don't take a hero to say, "No!" to the draft. And it don't take a genius to see thru their crap. They can't take MY freedom and give it to Iraq. If I come into your country and you shoot my ass, and my buddies drag my body back over the pass, wrap me up in a flag and send my family some cash and call me a hero. “Please sign this receipt for an American flag, a certificate declaring your son a hero and $150,00.” “You gotta be kidding!” I ain't no hero. I'm just trying to survive. No, me and Cindy, we're just staying alive. We got a hurt in our heart and a tear in our eye But we ain't heroes. (background) When the mist lies o're the bayou you don't call it a fog. When you trip out to the outhouse you don't read the catalog. When you mix a Bloody Mary you don't call it eggnog. When you wander thru the Bayou you don't call it a bog. When you gig a big toad you don't call it a frog. When the people hug the trees you don't all 'em prologue. If you need a hound for hunting you don't want a lap dog. When you rustle up an oyster you don't call it a qauhog. When you need a tuxedo you don't order a tog. When the neighbors honk their horns you don't call it a knock. When you need to get a job done you don't call a peacock. When you go to buy a bond you don't call it a stock. When you're dancing to the fiddle you don't call it hard rock. When the boat's up in the driveway you don't call it dry dock. If you want dumplins for your dinner do you kill a game cock? When you love your perish priest do you vote to defrock.
10. A NATION ROCKED TO SLEEP
Have you ever heard the sound of a mother screaming for her son? The torrential rains of a mother's weeping will never be done. She calls for her darling but she knows her darling’s gone. Have you ever heard the sound of a mother screaming for her son? Have you ever heard the sound of a father holding back his cries? The only thing he allows him self is long deep sighs.
Have you ever heard the sound of a father holding back his cries? Have you ever heard the sound of taps played at your brother's grave? They say he died so the flag will continue to wave, but I believe he died because they had oil to save. Have you ever heard the sound of taps played at your brother's grave? Have you ever heard the sound of a Nation Rocked to Sleep? The leaders want to keep you numb so the pain won't be so deep, But if we the people don’t stop them, how many more will weep? Have you ever heard the sound of a Nation Rocked to Sleep?~ From a poem, A Nation Rocked To Sleep/For Casey by Carly Sheehan (C) 2004
11. SHOES
I wrote this after experiencing the EYES WIDE SHUT display in Dallas.
I complained because I had no shoes
until I saw the shoes that had no feet.
Every day another mother will smother
when she reads that letter. And should it
be a bother for a father to teach his son
“Son, there are things that we do not do.
And, Son, there are games we do not play.
And you don’t point guns at people
when we are at work or at play.
And you don’t follow your buddy when it’s clear
he’s lost his way.
And you don’t make others suffer because you are afraid.
I complained because I had no shoes until
I saw the shoes that had no feet.
13. YOU
There's a place in my mind where your face had a home.
Back before you walked into my life. Before you were a known.
There's a note in my song that I knew fit somewhere.
Tho the journey was long, I hoped I wouldn't be wrong.
You’d be meeting me there.
Every longing I knew proved there was you.
Just as I know there’s water because I get thirsty,
I knew there was YOU.
There’s a thought that I hold about a love that can be.
It’s a thought about you. It’s a thought about me.
There’s a place in my mind. Some will say, “an ideal.”
A cloud silver-lined, above a road that will wind
to a place that is real.
Every longing I knew proved there was you.
Just as I know there’s water because I get thirsty,
I knew there was YOU.
All the questions inside even tears couldn’t soothe.
Not to run, not to hide.
A need undenied, and the answer was YOU.....
All songs by Jasper James Michael Taylor except AMERICA which is my rearrangement of part of a song Steppenwolf did on the MONSTER LP in 1970, written by John Kay, J. Edmonton, M.St Nicholas & L. Byrum [(C)1969 MCA Music] and IF YOU LEFT ME was written with Lisa Aschmann. [(C) 2006 Royal T Music/Nashville Geographic]
Talk to me...
www.jamesmichaeltaylor.com
Jasper James and the CHOIR IN MY HEAD
June 1 2009...Sometimes I romanticise about the old days when the toilets were a stinking mess and the coffee was whatever and the showers were more likely to make things worse. But I wouldn’t want to kick out Starbucks and Home Depot and Waste Management and all the sponsors who have made this such a sanitized escape from the stresses of real life. I never thought I’d be saying this, but the Government is actually running these folk festivals more efficiently than the hodgepodge of hippies and folkies that used to be in charge. It gives us all a chance to get things off our chests so we can go back to work securing the peace in a dangerous world without letting our convictions get us into trouble. JJ
PS...and I want to thank the Ministry of Protest for commissioning and over- seeing the writing of the songs on this CD.
1. AMERICA
2. PALMDALE, CALIFORNIA - 1951
...when it was still today.
3. LITTLE BOYS LOVE BASEBALL
4. WE DON’T KNOW MUCH
5. JESSE
6. ADOLESCENT ANGEL
7. IF YOU LEFT ME
8. TESLA
9. HEROES
10. A NATION ROCKED TO SLEEP
...from a poem by Carly Sheehan
11. SHOES
12. YOU
13. AMERICA reprise
All songs by Jasper James Michael Taylor except where noted.
(C) 2006 Royal T Music (P) txh2o Records
1. AMERICA
America, where are you now? Don’t you care about your sons and daughters.
America, we need you now. We can’t fight alone against the Monster.
Would you believe my mom and my dad would send me off to war.
A “Good-bye,” and nothing more. And then I find out I’m training to be a killer
America...
(1970 by STEPPENWOLF with my arrangement and commentary. jj)
2. PALMDALE, CALIFORNIA - 1951 - when it was still TODAY
Palmdale, California, 1951. Pretty yellow chickens hatching in the sun.
Fertilizer spreader flings its fecal load. I climb up to watch in the trees along the road
Little chickens, running, pecking, darting, so aware
Tiny fluffy brand new babies hatching everywhere
Mojave Desert blows across the street. Calls to fly my kite now: cloudless smiling breeze
I will let my string out ‘til it's all unwound. Kite will fly to heaven. I'll stay on the ground Dusty devil grabs my string and jerks my kite a bit
"Snap," it breaks my string and I go running after it
Quartz path markers sparkle, spread along the trail. Horny toad smacks red ants, stubby
scaly tail. Tumble weeds are bouncing up against the trees. I climb down and bury naked
legs up to my knees... Tiny stickers prick my ankles, grab my socks and shoes I can't stop the itching and I scratch myself a bruise
Army worms are marching westward to the ditch. I stand there and watch them falling
Miniature migration, dusty black and green, following a silent calling
And they wiggle, such a struggle, but it's futile now
They can not escape the heat, no butterflies allowed
Cement chunk of rubble, origin unknown. I called it Bear's Head. I'd go there to be alone
'Neath blast of afterburners, deadly silver bird, echoes of the cannons so recently unheard
And I didn’t know the war was just the day before
And I didn’t know tomorrow there’d be another war
3. LITTLE BOYS LOVE BASEBALL
Little boys play baseball. The rules are very clear. You know if you're first or second or short or if you're forth on the batting order. Little boys play baseball.
Little boys love baseball on a sunny day. When Mom or Dad come to cheer for you there’s nothing more fun to do. Little boys love baseball.
It's a game with rules a child can understand. The score is how you tell who loses and who wins. And you know when the game is over. And you know there'll be another day. And you hop on to your bike and whistle a homeward way
Little boys love baseball. It's something they can do. A uniform and a shiny leather mitt. And there's a place where every little boy can fit. Little boys love baseball. .
A game with rules a child can understand. The score is how you tell who loses and who wins. And you know when the game is over. And you know there'll be another day. And you hop on to your bike and whistle a homeward way
Little boys miss baseball when they grow up to be men. When the game isn't over and it's getting dark and the rules aren't much good outside the park, little boys miss baseball
4. WE DON'T KNOW MUCH
I was mowing the lawn and it hit me!
We don't know much.
We can be sad and not know why
We can say we're happy and know that it's a lie
We can say we're finished and start right up again
We can swear we're losing and turn around and win
We can yearn for heaven and be afraid of hell
But it might just all be over if we tripped into a well
We don't know much
We know it's going to rain but we don't know where or when
We can guess and be right and be wrong when we guess again
We can think our love will last forever and lose interest in a year
We can say "Good-bye" to someone and they won't even hear
We can swear we saw a space ship but never be for sure
We can sell our wart to someone but that might not be the cure
We don't know much
We think hoping makes things happen and we hope it's true
But would it happen any way? Do we really have a clue
When we pray are we just asking for what's already on it's way
Now, tell me, is that true or just something that we say
When Dad says, "Wear your hat so you won't get sunstroke"
Did he read that somewhere and doesn't he know that it's a joke
We don't know much
We can't imagine being sick when we are feeling fine
We can't imagine being well when, in sickness, we recline
We can't imagine time coming to an end
But we believe all things have to begin.
And when we kill people who disagree about what happens
when we die. How can we refuse to face facts about the things
we know when we are alive. We don't know much!
5. JESSE
I never met Jesse, but I heard her howl in the night and I
heard her pups yelping for whatever they were yelping for.
She was strong and she was there. And in the Texas night,
out on the prairie between Alvarado and Lillian,
you could hear them singing their song.
I never saw Jesse, but sometime late at night
I lie awake and listen and I wonder whatever happened to Jesse .
6. ADOLESCENT ANGEL
Morning sun shines thru the curtains throwing shadows on your
face. I completely lose my bearings. Lose all sense of time and
space. Like an ADOLESCENT ANGEL, come to sleep here in
your place. Morning sun shines thru the curtains. Dancing shadows
on your face... Is it light or is it magic. Is it love or is it grace
Could an ADOLESCENT ANGEL really live there in your face
Sometimes as the day progresses she gets swept up in the race
Morning sunlight soon renews her. Yesterday leaves not a trace.
Could an ADOLESCENT ANGEL be the spirit you convey
Could an ADOLESCENT ANGEL deliver you to me each day...etc
7. IF YOU LEFT ME written with Lisa Aschmann
(With Lisa sitting there at the table with me.)
I wrote all the words and music.
But I changed course a time or two at her bidding.
I'm not going to write songs like this any more.
Songs seem to have a prophetic power
I'm not eager to play into any more.
IF YOU LEFT ME, I wouldn't want to talk. I'd set your sandals
by the curb and then I'd take a little walk. I'd buy a roll of paper
towels to soak up every tear. Then I'd hang it on the clothesline
and watch them disappear.
IF YOU LEFT ME I wouldn't want to think. I'd buy a batch of
oopsy paint and mix it right here in the sink. And I'd paint out all
your colors and I'd paint out all your smells. Paint whiskers on all
your pictures. Have my way with your pastels
I'd bang my head against the window 'til I broke out all the pane. Throw your beach towels on the counter to soak up all the rain
IF YOU LEFT ME I wouldn't want to eat. I'd stash the bird food
in the freezer next to your parakeet and I'd scoff at all my hunger
and I'd be mean as I could be. And I'd waste away to nothing just
so you couldn't see *..*
IF YOU LEFT ME I wouldn't want to live. I'd be a rhyme without a reason, a rope without a shiv. I'd steal the paper from the neighbors
and leave my trash out by the curb. I'd turn on my car alarm, hang
out a sign: DO NOT DISTURB..© 2005 Royal T Music/Nashville Geographic
8. TESLA (1856 - 1943)
Who invented remote control? Tesla!
Who invented the fluorescent light? Tesla!
Who invented the radio? Tesla!
And who died alone and forgotten in 1943? Tesla!
So, you say, “Now, don’t be angry.”
And you say, “Just tell the story.”
But I’d like to ask a question: ”Why?”
Dumbing down. Dumbing down.
Who’d you never hear about in high school? Tesla!
Who’d you never hear about in college? Tesla!
Who’d you never hear about in science? Tesla!
Who’d you never hear about in physics? Tesla!
So, you say, “Now, don’t be angry.”
And you say, “Just tell the story.”
But I’d like to ask a question: ”Why?”
And what on earth would you do with a remote control devise?
Why didn’t anybody mention Tesla?
Why didn’t teachers tell us about Tesla?
Why didn't they even know about Tesla?
So, don’t tell me, “Don’t be angry.”
And I’ll try to tell the story
but right now I ask the question, “Why?”
Dumbing down. Dumbing down.
A guy named Marconi gets the Nobel Prize for inventing the radio.
So, what does Tesla do?
He invents this thing called the induction motor and he makes a deal with Westinghouse.
He lights up the Chicago World’s Fair with alternating current.
Take that Thomas “DC” Edison.
All praise Westinghouse. Let’s all praise Westinghouse.
And a nickety nackity Edison too.
So Westinghouse treats Tesla like the Unites States government treated the natives.
Lie, lie, lie.
Who could create and control plasma balls? Tesla!
And who created 100 foot lightning bolts? Tesla!
And who discovered the rotating magnetic field principle? Tesla!
And who invented the Tesla Coil? Tesla!
Did he really waste a lot a lot of money on silly projects.
Dang fool, thought we could control the weather.
It wasn’t Tesla that said that it was, “ 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration.”
That was Thomas Edison.
9. HEROES
This came out of a conversation Cindy Sheehan and I were having back before she got famous.
Well, I ain't no hero. I'm just trying to survive. No, me and Cindy, we're just staying alive. We got a hurt in our heart and a tear in our eye. But we ain’t heroes.....Small town constable he liked to play cop. He got a cop radio and turned it way up. Chased a stolen van and he signaled 'em to stop...Small town constable got his self dead. Blew the shirt off his shoulders, the hat off his head. Shotgun blast turned everything red.....So he had hisself a funeral one fine day. Every cop in Texas came to sing his praise. Sounded like thunder when they roared away. Called him little rooster under their breath. “Just another unnecessary death.” Could have said it out loud but instead they called him a HERO So let's take a closer listen to this hero talk. When you save your own skin it's not a hero's walk. If the shoe don't fit you don't call it a sock. If you got an alligator you don't call it a crock. When you blacken up your skillet you don't call it a wok. You catch a school of fish you don't call it a flock. When you eat up all the gumbo you just gotta restock. If the boat don't float you don't call it Iraq. You call it a peerow.....It don't take a hero to say, "No!" to the draft. And it don't take a genius to see thru their crap. They can't take MY freedom and give it to Iraq. If I come into your country and you shoot my ass, and my buddies drag my body back over the pass, wrap me up in a flag and send my family some cash and call me a hero. “Please sign this receipt for an American flag, a certificate declaring your son a hero and $150,00.” “You gotta be kidding!” I ain't no hero. I'm just trying to survive. No, me and Cindy, we're just staying alive. We got a hurt in our heart and a tear in our eye But we ain't heroes. (background) When the mist lies o're the bayou you don't call it a fog. When you trip out to the outhouse you don't read the catalog. When you mix a Bloody Mary you don't call it eggnog. When you wander thru the Bayou you don't call it a bog. When you gig a big toad you don't call it a frog. When the people hug the trees you don't all 'em prologue. If you need a hound for hunting you don't want a lap dog. When you rustle up an oyster you don't call it a qauhog. When you need a tuxedo you don't order a tog. When the neighbors honk their horns you don't call it a knock. When you need to get a job done you don't call a peacock. When you go to buy a bond you don't call it a stock. When you're dancing to the fiddle you don't call it hard rock. When the boat's up in the driveway you don't call it dry dock. If you want dumplins for your dinner do you kill a game cock? When you love your perish priest do you vote to defrock.
10. A NATION ROCKED TO SLEEP
Have you ever heard the sound of a mother screaming for her son? The torrential rains of a mother's weeping will never be done. She calls for her darling but she knows her darling’s gone. Have you ever heard the sound of a mother screaming for her son? Have you ever heard the sound of a father holding back his cries? The only thing he allows him self is long deep sighs.
Have you ever heard the sound of a father holding back his cries? Have you ever heard the sound of taps played at your brother's grave? They say he died so the flag will continue to wave, but I believe he died because they had oil to save. Have you ever heard the sound of taps played at your brother's grave? Have you ever heard the sound of a Nation Rocked to Sleep? The leaders want to keep you numb so the pain won't be so deep, But if we the people don’t stop them, how many more will weep? Have you ever heard the sound of a Nation Rocked to Sleep?~ From a poem, A Nation Rocked To Sleep/For Casey by Carly Sheehan (C) 2004
11. SHOES
I wrote this after experiencing the EYES WIDE SHUT display in Dallas.
I complained because I had no shoes
until I saw the shoes that had no feet.
Every day another mother will smother
when she reads that letter. And should it
be a bother for a father to teach his son
“Son, there are things that we do not do.
And, Son, there are games we do not play.
And you don’t point guns at people
when we are at work or at play.
And you don’t follow your buddy when it’s clear
he’s lost his way.
And you don’t make others suffer because you are afraid.
I complained because I had no shoes until
I saw the shoes that had no feet.
13. YOU
There's a place in my mind where your face had a home.
Back before you walked into my life. Before you were a known.
There's a note in my song that I knew fit somewhere.
Tho the journey was long, I hoped I wouldn't be wrong.
You’d be meeting me there.
Every longing I knew proved there was you.
Just as I know there’s water because I get thirsty,
I knew there was YOU.
There’s a thought that I hold about a love that can be.
It’s a thought about you. It’s a thought about me.
There’s a place in my mind. Some will say, “an ideal.”
A cloud silver-lined, above a road that will wind
to a place that is real.
Every longing I knew proved there was you.
Just as I know there’s water because I get thirsty,
I knew there was YOU.
All the questions inside even tears couldn’t soothe.
Not to run, not to hide.
A need undenied, and the answer was YOU.....
All songs by Jasper James Michael Taylor except AMERICA which is my rearrangement of part of a song Steppenwolf did on the MONSTER LP in 1970, written by John Kay, J. Edmonton, M.St Nicholas & L. Byrum [(C)1969 MCA Music] and IF YOU LEFT ME was written with Lisa Aschmann. [(C) 2006 Royal T Music/Nashville Geographic]
Talk to me...
www.jamesmichaeltaylor.com
Labels: KAMP KERR
NameDropper
James Michael Taylor - unplugged
1. ANNAH Child of My Restless Dreams
2. ASA I Met a Man Named Asa Today
3. CEDRICH Cedrich Allrunner/Blackhawk
4. CRISTI Cry, Cry Cristi
5. DENA The Dena Wind
6. ROSE Last Night I Said “Good-bye” to Rose
7. JIMMY Forever Young, Forever Foolish
8. JONAH Jonah Lives Under the Bridge
9. REBECCA I Live With Rebecca
10. SCARLETT Oh, Scarlett
11. SONNY A Cloudy Day for Sonny
12. THEDA NELL The Ballad of Theda Nell
All songs by James Michael Taylor
(C) 2006 Royal T Music (P) 2006 txh2o Records
One sunny afternoon in the fall of 2005 my oldest daughter, Wyn elan and her two boys and I were relaxing in the shade of a big pecan tree at a festival called Raz on the Braz, Terry Razor's annual birthday bash. I don't know what brought it up but Wyn suggested I put together a CD of name songs. So, back home, I went thru my songbook and assembled about 25 name songs. I burned a few CD copies and passed them out to people whose opinions I valued.. I got an email from Jeff Prince that went like this...
.
"i like the name songs that are about specific people, and each song ought to be entitled by the name of the protagonist. that would make an interesting theme. some of the songs on this cd don't fit that theme. for instance, "cowtown" is nice but the song is about a city, not a person, and doesn't fit the more limited theme i envision. nor do "gramma's shampoo" (gramma is a title, not a name), "cactus flower," "california xmas memories," "feathers in the wind," etc. but that's just my opinion....jeff
Jeff is pretty smart. Besides, he's the only one so far that has taken the time to give me some feedback so this is what it has all come to. Most of these songs were written many years ago and most of them have not been included on a previous CD. All are real people and only, Jonah, who's name I do not know, is not the name of the person I wrote it about. jmt
1. CHILD OF MY RESTLESS DREAMS
I saw Annah last night, when she rose to hug me
I saw that she was with child
I saw Ahnna last night and she looked so happy
I had to stay for a while
Should I be happy or should
I morn another stranded soul thrown up on the shore?
I saw Ahnna last night. Has it been a year now since
I last looked in her eyes?
But I’ve warmed to her light loving up to her memory
To get some sleep in the night
So much goes unspoken
So much left unsaid it seems
But the child is my child
Child of my restless dreams
I saw Ahnna last nigh and she looked so happy
I had to stay for a while
I saw Ahnna last night. She said she had a sponsor
She won’t be keeping the child
So much goes unspoken
So much left unsaid it seems
But the child is my child
Child of my restless dreams
Should I be happy or should
I morn another soul thrown up on the shore?
I saw Ahnna last night...
2. ASA
I met a man named Asa today. Sweeping an apartment hallway.
A washer of windows, a painter of walls. He moves when the
manager calls. I was in San Francisco, visiting with a friend
at the door, about to walk in. I saw this fella sweeping the floor
That was all, a little later there was more. As I rode the elevator.
Getting off at the third floor the same fella reaches in, tapes a
note on the wall. It says, "If you need your windows washed,
here's a number to call. . ." Actually, the sign said, "For seven
measly bucks, get your windows washed, inside and out,
sparkling like a jewel. Contact Asa thru the manager."
And I said, "Isn't Asa a Bible name. He said, "Yes.
And ain't it a shame. I don't even know who the fella was
and I don't know anybody that does." Well, we started talking
and I told him I was a window washer too and it wasn't long before he said,
"I got a wife with a husband, you see. Trouble is, that husband ain't me.
She's a part of my body, it's becoming quite clear.
I'll not rest until I again have her near.” And then he said,
“I've spent two years searching my mind. Two years, and this is what I find:
Brothers and sisters, I have quite a few but as a wife just one person will do."
And then he said, "I saw her the other day and I took that opportunity to say,
‘Brothers and sisters, I have quite a few but as a wife I have only you.’
And he said she said, ‘Things aren't good between me and my man.
If you keep on trying, maybe you can get what your after,
In fact, you might be right, waiting for me.’"
I met a man named Asa today. Sweeping an apartment hallway.
A washer of windows, a painter of walls. He moves when the manager calls.
3. CEDRICH ALLRUNNER/BLACKHAWK
Albuquerque, '74. I pulled off the road. I opened the door. I said, "Hop in fellow if you're needing a ride. You got nothing to fear. I got nothing to hide." I could tell he'd been drinking. He could hardly walk. He dropped thru the door and he started to talk. He looked at his hands and he started to cry. He said, "Nobody cares if I live or die. . .
I’m just an Indian, drunken Indian.Just an Indian, drunken Indian."
He said, "I'm Cedric Allrunner Black Hawk."
He said, "I got a son. He's a football player. He kicks it here and he throws it there. He hasn't even got a pony but check his cheek and you'll find it bony. Take this ring. Take it well. What the heaven? What the hell? I got two. You got none. Take it from me boy. Please don't run.
*. . .*
He said, "I got a son. He is a doctor. Pick my brain. Pick my lock. Turn muddy water into liquor. Make me sick. Make me sick. Her daddy was a Choctaw warrior. Let me tell you how he tore your history book into pieces. One man lives and another man ceases.
*. . .*
“Well, picture that. Picture this. Try to walk. Try to piss. Try to stand. Try to move. I got nothing left to prove. Served my country, served her fine, spilled my blood out on t line. I watched it run. I watched it curdle. I'm the brother of the moon. I'm the son of a turtle.
*. . .*
Pour the water in the pot. Set it up and burn it hot. Pour the coffee in the water. Guadacanal was quite a slaughter. German army try to hear. I stick my tongue down in their ear. You kill then Jap! You kill the deer! I’m so drunk I got no fear.
*. . .*
4. CRY CRY CRISTI
Cristi reads books about radio.
She sits the children of light
Had a child of her own once in Mexico
Now her body's a dead end at night...
Cry Cry Cristi
One morning, I, sleeping beside her.
Dreaming what never could be.
New life to the desert inside her
Was not meant for Cristi and me
Bye Bye Cristi
Tho she left she's hardly gone.
So much of her is hanging around
She lives in my heart, ever on my mind
Could I be her lost and found
Why Why Cristi?
Sometimes time will take a memory
and twist it all out of whack
That must be what's happening to you and me
While we're searching for something we lack
Try Try Cristi
It's colder now, we're deep into fall.
The leaves have all to the ground
and things I could hardly see at all
Are now quite easily found
My My Cristi
Cristi reads books about radio.
She sits the children of light
Lost a child of her own once down in Mexico
Now her body's a dead end at night. Cry Cry Cristi...
5. THE DENA WIND
The winds they blow down thru the canyon
Blowing so wild and free
And the night is my only companion
As they're blowing Dena to me
Blowing in the wind. Canyons in the wind
Fire is in the wind of my life
Questions in the wind. Answers in the wind
Dena's in the wind of my life
The sun it beats down Amarillo
The shadows they all fight for a place
And I'm finding that life is a riddle
That is staring me right in my face
Riddles in the wind. Puzzles in the wind
Fear is in the wind of my life
Faces in the wind. Voices in the wind
Dena's in the wind of my life...
Pieces in the wind. Puzzles in the wind
Questions in the wind of my life
Faith is in the wind. Hope is in the wind
Dena's in the wind of my life
The fires blow down thru the canyon
Burning so wild and free
And the wind is my only companion
And it's blowing La Dena to me...
6. LAST NIGHT I SAID “GOOD-BYE” TO ROSE
Last night I said, “Good Bye,” to Rose
But long ago I learned
The things that last we seldom know
And think a bridge is burned
Good Bye is just a passing thing
Hello, lasts for so long
That's why as I lay down my pen
I raise my voice in song
And Roses grow and Roses fade
and Roses sweetly bloom
So long I've lived in Rose's shade
Let Roses shade my tomb
I've tried my best to say it well
I said so well so much
But from your answers I can tell
That I have failed to touch you
Or could it be I have not failed
And it all goes to prove
There are those that we can touch
That we may never move?
And Roses grow and Roses fade
and Roses sweetly bloom
So long I've lived in Roses shade
Let Roses shade my tomb
Now, I'm not fooled by careless words
That dangle like a rope
And I'm not fooled by mocking birds
And I'm not fooled by hope
Tonight I said Good Bye to Rose
But I learned long ago
“Good-Bye.” is just a passing thing
Forever is, “Hello.”
And Roses grow and Roses fade
and Roses sweetly bloom
So long I've lived in Roses shade
Let Roses shade my tomb. . .
7. FOREVER YOUNG, FOREVER FOOLISH
Had he only known that his fate was his own
and he held it right there in his hand.
There was no guarantee what his children would be.
Some things were beyond his command
He was like many who plan, a disappointed man
whose Pretty Petite had grown fat.
He was smart and sincere and had just enough fear
to have known it would turn out like that
*Jimmy’s smile grew larger year after year
He couldn't talk but he could hear
And sometimes it seemed he'd understand
As he sat with his bucket and shovel in hand
Forever young. . .Forever foolish
Well, what was in store was so very much more
and he had not even a trace and had he but known,
perhaps he'd have flown like a dog on a track in a race.
He had a scheme or so it would seem:
He thought he would blow it all off.
He'd be on his own when the kids had all grown
but he did not hear the wind scoff.
*. . .*
The children were nice, but they each had their price
And he couldn't risk getting too close
And its simple and clean and I'll say it again
At the risk of seeming verbose
*. . .Jimmy's smile grew larger year after year
He couldn't talk but he could hear
And sometimes it seemed that he'd understand
As he sat with his bucket and shovel in hand
Forever young. . .Forever foolish
8. JONAH
JONAH lives under the bridge
He's there up off the ground
His world is looking down
Bicycles pass him by
Children ask parents why
JONAH lives under the bridge
No insurance policy
On JONAH's odyssey
Send in the scholar see
JONAH in squalor
JONAH lives under the bridge
His roof is the pathway
The tires all travel
People with places to go
His floor is the grit and
The sand and the gravel and the
Rain and the wind and the cold, so
JONAH lives under the bridge
There are those with the will
To earn the dollar
People with something to buy
JONAH finds cardboard
To burn up the hours
To warm up the smoke in his eye
JONAH lives under the bridge
9. I LIVE WITH REBECCA
I live with Rebecca. I keep her by my side
I live with Rebecca. With her I do abide
Some people never see light at their door
While others, finding their fill, want no more
One day he blew it but he never knew it
No one has told him to this day.
He doesn't show it because he doesn't know it.
His Rebecca's gone away...
Some people never see light at their door
While others, finding their fill, want no more
I live with Rebecca. I keep her by my side
I live with Rebecca. With her I do abide...
10. OH, SCARLETT
If I was a stream I'd flow so free
And hope that you would drink of me
If I were a cloud and you were the sky
I'd savor you as I float by
Oh, Scarlett, eyes so bright
Oh, Scarlett, hold me tight
Oh, Scarlett, mouth so sweet
Oh, Scarlett, I'd kiss your feet
If you were earth and I was the sun
I'd shine on you when the day is done
If I were a mountain and you were the snow,
I'd cry. In springtime, tears would flow
And if I were a lover and you were alone,
I'd feel your needs as I feel my own
Oh, Scarlett, eyes so bright
Oh, Scarlett, hold me tight
Oh, Scarlett, mouth so sweet
Oh, Scarlett, I'd kiss your feet.
If I was a sream I’d flow so free
and hope that you would drink of me
11. A CLOUDY DAY FOR SONNY
They joke and they laugh and they smile and they sneer
They say things like, "I love you," so Sonny can hear.
And she thinks it's a reason to give love away
but Sonny's always crying because they never stay...
Well, Sonny's from Texas and Sonny is tall
and Sonny gives freely and Sonny gives all
but clouds follow Sonny where ever she goes.
Fair-weather friends soon fade and Sonny knows...
It must be time to move on
The boys are all tirted and the fun is all gone.
Who’s taking Sonny home? Who's taking Sonny home?
Who's taking Sonny tonight?
Sonny will smile till the smiles are all gone.
Then Sonny throws bar stools, runs and hides in the John.
And nobody will follow because they have learned
Sonny's so easy, when Sonny's been burned.
It must be time to move on.
The boys are all tired and the fun is all gone.
Who's taking Sonny home? Who's taking Sonny home?
Who's taking Sonny tonight?
12. THE BALLAD OF THEDA NELL
On the shoulder of the eagle where the sparrow builds her nest
Texas town of Palo Pinto, there's a courthouse in the West
Where the clerks all talk in whispers as tell their tattle tale
And the rich man pays his money and the poor man goes to jail
And her name was Theda Knell and she was buried there today
A child of class and beauty sleeps beneath a rose arrey
I was working down at Tony's, just a singing for my pay
I sang Bad Moon on the Rise. I should listen what I say
They tell me she’s is a lady and I know 'cause I can see
And the way she reached out with her eyes runs chills all over me
Her husband was a rich man. He could buy a racing horse
And he did and it could win a race of course
I sit here and I wonder how could I have gone so wrong
But I could not deny her. I could never be that strong
Oh, I remember nothing in my life to touch her art
The sadness in her smile, the way she took me to her heart
And her husband could not give her what she wanted most in life
A child that she could fondle like he never did his wife
He told then that I killed her and he wept to prove his pain
I said,"Oh, no. I only loved her." But of course, it was in vain
If I heal and if I live I know I never will be free
For I am poor and I am lost and have no family
He told me he could buy another, she was one of eight
But her mother and her father fear his shadow on their gate
On the shoulder of an eagle where the sparrow builds her nest
Texas town of Palo Pinto, there's a courthouse in the West
and the guards all talk in whispers as they tell their tattle tale
Of how rich men pays his money and the poor man goes to jail
Her name is Theda Nell and they buried her today...
All songs by James Michael Taylor
(C) 2006 Royal T Music - ASCAP
(P) 2006 txh2o Records & Stuff, Fort Worth, Texas
Talk to me...
www.jamesmichaeltaylor.com
James Michael Taylor - unplugged
1. ANNAH Child of My Restless Dreams
2. ASA I Met a Man Named Asa Today
3. CEDRICH Cedrich Allrunner/Blackhawk
4. CRISTI Cry, Cry Cristi
5. DENA The Dena Wind
6. ROSE Last Night I Said “Good-bye” to Rose
7. JIMMY Forever Young, Forever Foolish
8. JONAH Jonah Lives Under the Bridge
9. REBECCA I Live With Rebecca
10. SCARLETT Oh, Scarlett
11. SONNY A Cloudy Day for Sonny
12. THEDA NELL The Ballad of Theda Nell
All songs by James Michael Taylor
(C) 2006 Royal T Music (P) 2006 txh2o Records
One sunny afternoon in the fall of 2005 my oldest daughter, Wyn elan and her two boys and I were relaxing in the shade of a big pecan tree at a festival called Raz on the Braz, Terry Razor's annual birthday bash. I don't know what brought it up but Wyn suggested I put together a CD of name songs. So, back home, I went thru my songbook and assembled about 25 name songs. I burned a few CD copies and passed them out to people whose opinions I valued.. I got an email from Jeff Prince that went like this...
.
"i like the name songs that are about specific people, and each song ought to be entitled by the name of the protagonist. that would make an interesting theme. some of the songs on this cd don't fit that theme. for instance, "cowtown" is nice but the song is about a city, not a person, and doesn't fit the more limited theme i envision. nor do "gramma's shampoo" (gramma is a title, not a name), "cactus flower," "california xmas memories," "feathers in the wind," etc. but that's just my opinion....jeff
Jeff is pretty smart. Besides, he's the only one so far that has taken the time to give me some feedback so this is what it has all come to. Most of these songs were written many years ago and most of them have not been included on a previous CD. All are real people and only, Jonah, who's name I do not know, is not the name of the person I wrote it about. jmt
1. CHILD OF MY RESTLESS DREAMS
I saw Annah last night, when she rose to hug me
I saw that she was with child
I saw Ahnna last night and she looked so happy
I had to stay for a while
Should I be happy or should
I morn another stranded soul thrown up on the shore?
I saw Ahnna last night. Has it been a year now since
I last looked in her eyes?
But I’ve warmed to her light loving up to her memory
To get some sleep in the night
So much goes unspoken
So much left unsaid it seems
But the child is my child
Child of my restless dreams
I saw Ahnna last nigh and she looked so happy
I had to stay for a while
I saw Ahnna last night. She said she had a sponsor
She won’t be keeping the child
So much goes unspoken
So much left unsaid it seems
But the child is my child
Child of my restless dreams
Should I be happy or should
I morn another soul thrown up on the shore?
I saw Ahnna last night...
2. ASA
I met a man named Asa today. Sweeping an apartment hallway.
A washer of windows, a painter of walls. He moves when the
manager calls. I was in San Francisco, visiting with a friend
at the door, about to walk in. I saw this fella sweeping the floor
That was all, a little later there was more. As I rode the elevator.
Getting off at the third floor the same fella reaches in, tapes a
note on the wall. It says, "If you need your windows washed,
here's a number to call. . ." Actually, the sign said, "For seven
measly bucks, get your windows washed, inside and out,
sparkling like a jewel. Contact Asa thru the manager."
And I said, "Isn't Asa a Bible name. He said, "Yes.
And ain't it a shame. I don't even know who the fella was
and I don't know anybody that does." Well, we started talking
and I told him I was a window washer too and it wasn't long before he said,
"I got a wife with a husband, you see. Trouble is, that husband ain't me.
She's a part of my body, it's becoming quite clear.
I'll not rest until I again have her near.” And then he said,
“I've spent two years searching my mind. Two years, and this is what I find:
Brothers and sisters, I have quite a few but as a wife just one person will do."
And then he said, "I saw her the other day and I took that opportunity to say,
‘Brothers and sisters, I have quite a few but as a wife I have only you.’
And he said she said, ‘Things aren't good between me and my man.
If you keep on trying, maybe you can get what your after,
In fact, you might be right, waiting for me.’"
I met a man named Asa today. Sweeping an apartment hallway.
A washer of windows, a painter of walls. He moves when the manager calls.
3. CEDRICH ALLRUNNER/BLACKHAWK
Albuquerque, '74. I pulled off the road. I opened the door. I said, "Hop in fellow if you're needing a ride. You got nothing to fear. I got nothing to hide." I could tell he'd been drinking. He could hardly walk. He dropped thru the door and he started to talk. He looked at his hands and he started to cry. He said, "Nobody cares if I live or die. . .
I’m just an Indian, drunken Indian.Just an Indian, drunken Indian."
He said, "I'm Cedric Allrunner Black Hawk."
He said, "I got a son. He's a football player. He kicks it here and he throws it there. He hasn't even got a pony but check his cheek and you'll find it bony. Take this ring. Take it well. What the heaven? What the hell? I got two. You got none. Take it from me boy. Please don't run.
*. . .*
He said, "I got a son. He is a doctor. Pick my brain. Pick my lock. Turn muddy water into liquor. Make me sick. Make me sick. Her daddy was a Choctaw warrior. Let me tell you how he tore your history book into pieces. One man lives and another man ceases.
*. . .*
“Well, picture that. Picture this. Try to walk. Try to piss. Try to stand. Try to move. I got nothing left to prove. Served my country, served her fine, spilled my blood out on t line. I watched it run. I watched it curdle. I'm the brother of the moon. I'm the son of a turtle.
*. . .*
Pour the water in the pot. Set it up and burn it hot. Pour the coffee in the water. Guadacanal was quite a slaughter. German army try to hear. I stick my tongue down in their ear. You kill then Jap! You kill the deer! I’m so drunk I got no fear.
*. . .*
4. CRY CRY CRISTI
Cristi reads books about radio.
She sits the children of light
Had a child of her own once in Mexico
Now her body's a dead end at night...
Cry Cry Cristi
One morning, I, sleeping beside her.
Dreaming what never could be.
New life to the desert inside her
Was not meant for Cristi and me
Bye Bye Cristi
Tho she left she's hardly gone.
So much of her is hanging around
She lives in my heart, ever on my mind
Could I be her lost and found
Why Why Cristi?
Sometimes time will take a memory
and twist it all out of whack
That must be what's happening to you and me
While we're searching for something we lack
Try Try Cristi
It's colder now, we're deep into fall.
The leaves have all to the ground
and things I could hardly see at all
Are now quite easily found
My My Cristi
Cristi reads books about radio.
She sits the children of light
Lost a child of her own once down in Mexico
Now her body's a dead end at night. Cry Cry Cristi...
5. THE DENA WIND
The winds they blow down thru the canyon
Blowing so wild and free
And the night is my only companion
As they're blowing Dena to me
Blowing in the wind. Canyons in the wind
Fire is in the wind of my life
Questions in the wind. Answers in the wind
Dena's in the wind of my life
The sun it beats down Amarillo
The shadows they all fight for a place
And I'm finding that life is a riddle
That is staring me right in my face
Riddles in the wind. Puzzles in the wind
Fear is in the wind of my life
Faces in the wind. Voices in the wind
Dena's in the wind of my life...
Pieces in the wind. Puzzles in the wind
Questions in the wind of my life
Faith is in the wind. Hope is in the wind
Dena's in the wind of my life
The fires blow down thru the canyon
Burning so wild and free
And the wind is my only companion
And it's blowing La Dena to me...
6. LAST NIGHT I SAID “GOOD-BYE” TO ROSE
Last night I said, “Good Bye,” to Rose
But long ago I learned
The things that last we seldom know
And think a bridge is burned
Good Bye is just a passing thing
Hello, lasts for so long
That's why as I lay down my pen
I raise my voice in song
And Roses grow and Roses fade
and Roses sweetly bloom
So long I've lived in Rose's shade
Let Roses shade my tomb
I've tried my best to say it well
I said so well so much
But from your answers I can tell
That I have failed to touch you
Or could it be I have not failed
And it all goes to prove
There are those that we can touch
That we may never move?
And Roses grow and Roses fade
and Roses sweetly bloom
So long I've lived in Roses shade
Let Roses shade my tomb
Now, I'm not fooled by careless words
That dangle like a rope
And I'm not fooled by mocking birds
And I'm not fooled by hope
Tonight I said Good Bye to Rose
But I learned long ago
“Good-Bye.” is just a passing thing
Forever is, “Hello.”
And Roses grow and Roses fade
and Roses sweetly bloom
So long I've lived in Roses shade
Let Roses shade my tomb. . .
7. FOREVER YOUNG, FOREVER FOOLISH
Had he only known that his fate was his own
and he held it right there in his hand.
There was no guarantee what his children would be.
Some things were beyond his command
He was like many who plan, a disappointed man
whose Pretty Petite had grown fat.
He was smart and sincere and had just enough fear
to have known it would turn out like that
*Jimmy’s smile grew larger year after year
He couldn't talk but he could hear
And sometimes it seemed he'd understand
As he sat with his bucket and shovel in hand
Forever young. . .Forever foolish
Well, what was in store was so very much more
and he had not even a trace and had he but known,
perhaps he'd have flown like a dog on a track in a race.
He had a scheme or so it would seem:
He thought he would blow it all off.
He'd be on his own when the kids had all grown
but he did not hear the wind scoff.
*. . .*
The children were nice, but they each had their price
And he couldn't risk getting too close
And its simple and clean and I'll say it again
At the risk of seeming verbose
*. . .Jimmy's smile grew larger year after year
He couldn't talk but he could hear
And sometimes it seemed that he'd understand
As he sat with his bucket and shovel in hand
Forever young. . .Forever foolish
8. JONAH
JONAH lives under the bridge
He's there up off the ground
His world is looking down
Bicycles pass him by
Children ask parents why
JONAH lives under the bridge
No insurance policy
On JONAH's odyssey
Send in the scholar see
JONAH in squalor
JONAH lives under the bridge
His roof is the pathway
The tires all travel
People with places to go
His floor is the grit and
The sand and the gravel and the
Rain and the wind and the cold, so
JONAH lives under the bridge
There are those with the will
To earn the dollar
People with something to buy
JONAH finds cardboard
To burn up the hours
To warm up the smoke in his eye
JONAH lives under the bridge
9. I LIVE WITH REBECCA
I live with Rebecca. I keep her by my side
I live with Rebecca. With her I do abide
Some people never see light at their door
While others, finding their fill, want no more
One day he blew it but he never knew it
No one has told him to this day.
He doesn't show it because he doesn't know it.
His Rebecca's gone away...
Some people never see light at their door
While others, finding their fill, want no more
I live with Rebecca. I keep her by my side
I live with Rebecca. With her I do abide...
10. OH, SCARLETT
If I was a stream I'd flow so free
And hope that you would drink of me
If I were a cloud and you were the sky
I'd savor you as I float by
Oh, Scarlett, eyes so bright
Oh, Scarlett, hold me tight
Oh, Scarlett, mouth so sweet
Oh, Scarlett, I'd kiss your feet
If you were earth and I was the sun
I'd shine on you when the day is done
If I were a mountain and you were the snow,
I'd cry. In springtime, tears would flow
And if I were a lover and you were alone,
I'd feel your needs as I feel my own
Oh, Scarlett, eyes so bright
Oh, Scarlett, hold me tight
Oh, Scarlett, mouth so sweet
Oh, Scarlett, I'd kiss your feet.
If I was a sream I’d flow so free
and hope that you would drink of me
11. A CLOUDY DAY FOR SONNY
They joke and they laugh and they smile and they sneer
They say things like, "I love you," so Sonny can hear.
And she thinks it's a reason to give love away
but Sonny's always crying because they never stay...
Well, Sonny's from Texas and Sonny is tall
and Sonny gives freely and Sonny gives all
but clouds follow Sonny where ever she goes.
Fair-weather friends soon fade and Sonny knows...
It must be time to move on
The boys are all tirted and the fun is all gone.
Who’s taking Sonny home? Who's taking Sonny home?
Who's taking Sonny tonight?
Sonny will smile till the smiles are all gone.
Then Sonny throws bar stools, runs and hides in the John.
And nobody will follow because they have learned
Sonny's so easy, when Sonny's been burned.
It must be time to move on.
The boys are all tired and the fun is all gone.
Who's taking Sonny home? Who's taking Sonny home?
Who's taking Sonny tonight?
12. THE BALLAD OF THEDA NELL
On the shoulder of the eagle where the sparrow builds her nest
Texas town of Palo Pinto, there's a courthouse in the West
Where the clerks all talk in whispers as tell their tattle tale
And the rich man pays his money and the poor man goes to jail
And her name was Theda Knell and she was buried there today
A child of class and beauty sleeps beneath a rose arrey
I was working down at Tony's, just a singing for my pay
I sang Bad Moon on the Rise. I should listen what I say
They tell me she’s is a lady and I know 'cause I can see
And the way she reached out with her eyes runs chills all over me
Her husband was a rich man. He could buy a racing horse
And he did and it could win a race of course
I sit here and I wonder how could I have gone so wrong
But I could not deny her. I could never be that strong
Oh, I remember nothing in my life to touch her art
The sadness in her smile, the way she took me to her heart
And her husband could not give her what she wanted most in life
A child that she could fondle like he never did his wife
He told then that I killed her and he wept to prove his pain
I said,"Oh, no. I only loved her." But of course, it was in vain
If I heal and if I live I know I never will be free
For I am poor and I am lost and have no family
He told me he could buy another, she was one of eight
But her mother and her father fear his shadow on their gate
On the shoulder of an eagle where the sparrow builds her nest
Texas town of Palo Pinto, there's a courthouse in the West
and the guards all talk in whispers as they tell their tattle tale
Of how rich men pays his money and the poor man goes to jail
Her name is Theda Nell and they buried her today...
All songs by James Michael Taylor
(C) 2006 Royal T Music - ASCAP
(P) 2006 txh2o Records & Stuff, Fort Worth, Texas
Talk to me...
www.jamesmichaeltaylor.com
Labels: NameDropper
SLAUGHTER MOUNTAIN
James Michael Taylor
1. BIG FAT HORSE
2. HOEDOWN
3. PROLOG
4. CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS MEMORIES
5. DIAMONDS & WATER
6. FRUSTRATED ARTIST
7. COAL FEVER
8. LISA MAKES APPOINTMENTS
9. HICKORY STIX
10. SUNLIGHT ON SPIDER WEBS
11. SOMEONE’S LITTLE BROTHER/HELP
12. OH, JIMMY!
13. SLAUGHTER MOUNTAIN
14. I’M STILL HERE
15. LULLABY
16. EPILOG
All songs by James Michael Taylor and published by Royal T Music except HICKORY STIX, Lisa Aschmann and James Michael Taylor Published by Nashville Geographic & Royal T Music
SLAUGHTER MOUNTAIN is not a name on a sign at the edge of any town or at the base of any mountain that I can show you on a map. But I can show you the creek into which my mother emptied her tubercular mother's spit bucket and I can show you the sealed entrance to the mine where my grandfather, Fred Teeters breathed the dust that destroyed his lungs. I can show you the mislabeled grave stones that mark their resting place. I can show you the cave my mother played in with her friends. The cave is now a national monument. I can show you the factory that makes the hickory handles. I can show you the river where someone's little brother was swept away that day and I can show you a picture in a yearbook of a girl named Marie Angel. I can show you sunlight on spider webs and I can show you a bale of cotton. The same five hundred pound bale of cotton that scabbed human hands picked for two dollars and fifty cents. I can show you the grave of those who demanded one dollar for each hundred pounds. I can show you the berries on the fence at the end of the trail and I can show you the same sun that sat on that mountain.
1. BIG FAT HORSE (From a folk song called SHADY GROVE)
Wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
Corn to feed him on
Pretty little girl to stay at home
Feed him when I’m gone
Wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
Wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE…
I wish I had a mountain top
Look out to the sea
Wish I had a mountain top
See what I could see
Wish I had a mountain top
Wish I had a mountain top…
I wish I had a buffalo
A bone to tan his skin
I wish I had a buffalo
Corn to feed my kin
I wish I had a buffalo
I wish I had a buffalo…
I wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
Corn to feed him, on
Pretty little girl to stay at home
Fed him when I’m gone
I wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
I wish I had a mountain top
I wish I had a buffalo
What can we do with the drunken miner
What can we do with the drunken soldier
What can we do with the drunken sailor
Early in the morning
I wish I had a big fat frog
Fry him in a pan
Open up some pork and beans
Eat ‘em from the can
I wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
I wish I had a mountain top
I wish I had a buffalo….
Wish I had a big fat frog.....
2. GRASSICAL HOEDOWN (From the traditional song PICK A BALE OF COTTON)
An effort to do a slide show at a dance that takes place
at the same time on two different ends of the country:
The San Jouquin Valley of California and the Sequatchie Valley in Tennessee.
Hey, now. Hoe, now. Hey, now. Hoe, now
Chop that cotton row. Oh. Oh
One, two, three, four Hoe now. Hey now.
What you got to say, now.
Tell me what you said. What’s in your pretty head
(Swing your partner) Oh, oh. Allemande right.
All together now. All together now
Got a little work gotta do today.
Gotta little work gotts do today
Gotta little work gotta do today
Before I get my paycheck
Hi, ho, here we go, make some money and buy some clothes.
Meet me at the dance hall.
Ha, ha, ha, ha. Hoe, now. Hey, now .
Pick a bale a day now. Oh, Yeah.
Sixty cents a hundred.
When I was a teenager my moma said
“You really know how to pick em.” Oh, oh, oh.
Pick one bale and I make three dollars
Oh, oh, bless my soul
Bolls hurt my fingers and it makes me holler
You got a june bug on your collar
I look at all the hungry people
I’m so hungry it makes me swaller
Hang it on the fence it’ll dry by evenin’
Gotta get to town now
Bathin’ in the creek and I think I’m freezin’
When I was a little boy my mama said,
“Now son, you really know how to pick em’.
Hey, now. Ho, now. Hey, now. Hoe now
Chop that cotton row now.
Woe. Vote for your sweet heart
Hoe now. Hey now
What you got to say, now.
Tell me what you said.
What’s in your pretty head now
Woe. Woe.
Got a little work gotta do today
Got a little work gotta do today
Before I get my paycheck
Hi, ho, here we go
Make some money and buy some clothes
Little bitty mouse runs across my banjo
Now I lay me down to sleep my soul to keep.
I’m waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
3. PROLOGUE
I was born in California. I was raised in California.
To me the world was California. Everything else was some strange place.
One place I knew about was Tennessee where my mom grew up.
I heard her stories about how her dad being a miner
and her brothers and sisters fighting and divorcing and trying to kill eachother
and being alcoholics and not getting along
I thought maybe I’d write some day, like Faulkner, about the South.
How sad it all was and how impossible it all seemed.
And then I left California. Spent the last thirty something years in Texas.
Tennessee still seems like a strange place that got lost somewhere in the past.
Back roads into Orem. Go to the hickory handle factory there in Sequatchie.
Take I 24 out of Marion County into Chattanooga...
4. CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS MEMORIES
This was one of the songs I entered in the Christmas Song contest sponsored by the Fort Worth Songwriters Association in 2005. I wanted to write about the importance of wrapping paper at Christmas. A song called REDNECK CHRISTMAS won.
Take me back to California on a sunny Christmas morn.
Well, Christmas there was different on those Mojave Desert nights.
No snow and not much money for sharp clothes or hunting knifes.
In fact we got a lot of toothpaste and some clothes we'd done worn
out. Once I unwrapped a can of Pork 'n Beans. I said, "Holy cow!"
Then, Dad would turn to Mom and see that twinkle in her eye. And he
almost broke out laughing when John unwrapped his old bow tie. It
was an instant disappointment, enough to ruin the year. Somehow
we rose above it all and we're all still glad to be here
Take me back to California, to the Christmas sunshine warm.
California Christmas memories where my expectations formed.
Just me and my two brothers and a happy dad and mom.
Take me back to California on that sunny Christmas morn.
Daddy had a sense of humor and he had a narrow smile
He made the best of what we had, sometimes it got real wild.
One time he took two mattresses and he made a trampoline.
Well, me and John would jump off the roof on the count of three.
Well, I'd jump off. John was what we call a fraidy cat.
He'd say, “Two and a quarter, two and a half, two and three quarters...”
He’s bigger than me now but he's still a fraidy cat.
Take me back to California on a sunny Christmas morn.
My dad, he had his theories about what matters in this world
It don't matter if you are a boy or if you are a girl
Inside we're all the same so we might as well be having fun
'Cause once we take off all the wrapping the guessing is all done.
And, my daddy had his theories about holidays and things
It wasn't how many quail you killed , it was all about the bang
And once the presents opened and living room's all clean
The wrapping's what it's all about in that desert Christmas scene
Take me back to California to the Christmas sunshine warm
California Christmas memories when my expectations formed
Just me and my two brothers and a healthy dad and mom
Take me back to California on a sunny Christmas morn.
5. DIAMONDS & WATER
I think I sleep-walked one night to the studio.
That's the only explanation that makes any sense to me about this...
You wear diamonds on your fingers.
You wear diamonds on your ears
and you wear diamonds on your necklace.
You wear diamonds to the party.
You wear diamonds to the banquet.
You wear diamonds to the opera.
But I’ll take a thousand gallons of water.
You can keep your diamonds.
You can keep your gold and you can keep your platinum.
But I’ll breathe fresh air in a meadow.
A meadow. Remember the meadow?
6. FRUSTRATED ARTIST
My argument for supporting the arts...
He was a FRUSTRATED ARTIST
trying to sell his pictures on the street.
He was a FRUSTRATED ARTIST,
never selling quite enough to eat, so
he overcompensated for the lack of
compensation for the pictures that he
drew, and he took out his frustrations
on the gypsies of the nation and an
occasional Jew
He was a FRUSTRATED ARTIST
Drawing some new borders on the map
He was a FRUSTRATED ARTIST
Drawing blood while Europe took a nap
We all know frustration can make a
man to do crazy things. We all know
frustration can black an eye and make
a gun go “Bang!” “Garble, garble.”
Roughly translated,
“If I had been taken seriously as an artist
I never would have gotten involved in politics.”
Da da da...
7. COAL FEVER
Sometime back in the 70s I was thinking about jumping freight trains when I was a boy and that old song Coal Tattoo. I wrote music again and again over the years but until recently the music wouldn't stick to it.
When I caught the fever I was ten years old
Mama called the doctor, so the story is told
And the doctor's diagnosis made her blood run cold
He said, "Your son's been infected by the #9 coal"
COAL FEVER
I never told my mama how I got the disease
I hid the black scars on my elbows and knees
You try to grab a boxcar when she's starting to roll
And you miss the first step, you get a fist full of coal
COAL FEVER
COAL FEVER. . .You know it runs in your blood
COAL FEVER. . .Turns your name into mud
You got to find a woman in every town
That's the only way to keep the fever down
COAL FEVER
They say you starve a fever when you feed it the coal,
but a wife and three kids can get mighty old
I didn't leave a trace. I never looked back
They found my old DeSoto on the railroad track
COAL FEVER
Well, my mama died of cancer and my daddy lost heart.
Try not to think about it, 'cause it tears me apart.
The fever keeps me hopping and I don't want to be late
when I ride that Midnight Special thru the pearly gate
COAL FEVER...
8. LISA MAKES APPOINTMENTS
Lisa makes appointments for her friends to come and cry
She’s got a comfy shoulder and an empathetic sigh
Lisa’s had some troubles. Enough to last a life
But, Lisa makes appointments so her friends can come and cry
Her friends don’t see the fingers that her father broke, each one
Like pretzels, brittle snaps the little fingers soon were done
They don’t know about the husband that died so long ago
Or the house that washed into the sea and took away the road
I don’t know how Lisa does it but she does it every day
The music in her heart must wash it all away
Lisa’s not above the storm and Lisa’s not beneath the waves
I don’t know how Lisa does it but she does it every day
Yes, Lisa makes appointments for her friends to come and cry
About their freshly busted lip or a brand new blackened eye
Or a fingernail that’s damaged by the strings of a guitar
Or some imagined insult atop an imaginary scar
So her friends go cry on Lisa and she takes it with a shrug
The hell in all their lives won’t make a lump beneath her rug
And when the crying’s over, she knows it’s just a phase
Lisa hugs her friend and writes another song of praise.
I don’t know how Lisa does it but she does it every day
The music in her heart must wash it all away.
Lisa’s not above the storm and Lisa’s not beneath the waves
When Lisa goes to funerals Lisa smells the flowers on the graves
9. HICKORY STIX*
I wrote this poem sitting at the dining room table with Lisa Aschmann at her apartment in Nashville one evening. She kept saying "No, that verse belongs in another song," and "That's a keeper..." and at some point she started singing it back to me. I said, "We need a chorus." Lisa said, "No." The next morning she said, "You were right. We need a chorus," and she sang me three notes. I took those notes and made them into a howl. We liked that. Then we wrote the ending together. We celebrated. It was our first song together.
Billy Joe and Don McRay drive to work each dawn at six
Down the mountain to the factory that makes handles out of hickory sticks.
Their job is easy labor, hanging handles on the line that drags them thru the lacquer. Killing more than time
First batch of handles drying on the dripping drying rack
Another batch of brain cells dying. They'll never get them back
Bobtail full of handles. Yard high with hickory chips.
Eyes glazed like a pastry. They wipe sweat from their cracking lips
They don’t worry about no G-man come close the factory down
They got a cousin's got an uncle's got connections back in town.
And there's not a living thing within ten feet of that room
Not a silver fish, not a cockroach. Not a seedpod, not a bloom
The wind once blew a firefly, blinking thru the door
They swore it was a spaceship they swatted to the floor
They don't smoke tobacco. They don't need a whiskey fix
At night deep in their pillows they dream about hickory sticks
Hearse heads down the mountain, followed by pickup trucks
The boys are leaving early and they're going home deluxe
Teachers called them slackers. Boss said, “They’re just hicks,
But someone's got lacquer handles made of hickory sticks.”
Somebody’s gotta lacquor hickory handled hardware
Somebody’s gotts lacquor handles made of hickory stix.
10. SUNLIGHT ON SPIDER WEBS (an instrumental)
11. SOMEONE’S LITTLE BROTHER / HELP / THE SOUND OF WATER
A scene from RAZ ON THE BRAZ 2005
I open up the faucet. Water squirts out of the hose
Gurgle, gurgle, splitter, splatter on the lizards and the toads
The mulch rolls like it's boiling. River sound in miniature
Every day I think about it, but I never can be sure...
He said, "Help." A lonely cry for his existence
He said, "Help." The campground echoed his resistance
And as I see him in the distance I respond at his insistence
He said, "Help," as he flowed down with the water
Not a scream, just that word and not much louder
Just a statement, not a shout. He held his chin up like an otter
He said, "Help," as the swelling waters lift him
He said, "Help," the sand beneath his feet was shifting
Lost his footing so he's drifting.
Will the hands of time constrict him?
He said, "Help."
I got sunflowers and tomatoes, caster beans and summer squash
I got roses piled with coffee grounds but this summer is a wash
There's lightning and the thunder sparking ‘cross the dusty plane
Though I love the distant fireworks, what I really need is rain
He said, "Help." Not like he was dying
He said, "Help." And it was me that he was eyeing
Our time had come, there's no denying. Like a puppy's gentle crying.
He said, "Help." I knew I was rushing into trouble
He said, "Help." I knew the drowning could be double
That I must avoid a struggle with the boy that broke the bubble
He said, "Help." Oh, why can't I forget it?
He said, "Help." But to forget is not permitted
We can't stop once we've committed. I'm confused and I admit it.
He said, "Help."
We were meant to meet that day, bobbing in the current
You can't hold destiny at bay when you're stripped of all deterrents
And the memory will replay, yes, the river scene recurrent
He said, "Help." People standing there just talking
On the shore, just drinking beer and gawking
Smoking cigarettes and laughing, all, the fun that they were having
He said, "Help," as he felt the river's power
He said, "Help, help me delay my final hour."
Though unspoken, I could sense it. You can buy, but no one rents it.
He said, "Help." He was someone's little brother
He said, "Help," and somewhere he had a mother
And where’s this child’s father as I splash across the water
He said, "Help." I said, "Son, don't stop trying.
He was silent as I shoved him toward the shore line
All the people standing there.
I said, "Do something. Don't just stare."
I said, "Help!"
OH, JIMMY!
Upon seeing a picture of a beautiful girl named Marie Angel
in my mother's 1939 Marion County, Tennessee high school year book.
After a year of thinking about what the attraction could mean...
On page thirty of a yearbook
He found a picture sweet
A girl named Marie Angel
In school right down the street
He hadn’t noticed that the date was 1983
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
That night he told his mother
He’d finally found the one
She smiled and hugged her angel
She said, “That’s wonderful, Son.”
She didn’t think to ask him who this girl could be.
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
Later in the evening
Something on her mind
Prompted her to ask
About her darling’s loving find
He said, “I found her picture in a book at Dougan’s store.”
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
He said, “Her name is Marie Angel.”
And his mom began to cry
She couldn’t even say the words
When Jimmy asked her, “Why?”
How do you keep a secret you always thought was best?
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
On page ninety in that yearbook
Is a picture of that girl
She stands by Jimmy’s father
King and Queen of Homecoming World
Nobody seemed to notice that the Queen was great with child
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
No more words were spoken
About that day again
Jimmy bought the yearbook
And he holds it now and then
Perhaps, some things are best left unspoken if you can.
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
On page 30 of the yearbook he found the picture sweet...
SLAUGHTER MOUNTAIN
For my mother's funeral.
My mom’s dad was a coal miner. Her mother died of TB when she was a kid. When she was 12 her dad, dying of black lung, slit his throat with a butcher knife. That left her with a cripple little brother to take care of and a bunch of big brothers and sisters to take care of her...When I come to the end of that old dirt road where the berries all grow on the fence and the trail wonders down to the water’s edge and the footprints of all my old friends. She told John once if she hadn’t stuck with her guns as often as she did she wouldn’t have been right as often as she was. So he put that on a piece of paper and framed it and hung it on the wall so we could all remember her stradegy in life. And tho I follow in the footsteps of my friends and the road I walk down had been tramped in to stone. All the tears that I’ve cried will have turned into dust and my life will pass like shadow into the shade. Where the crickets are fiddling at midnight. And the toad frogs all sing to the moon, all the grasshoppers listening and smiling and the coyotes howling the tune. When I come to the end of life’s journey and I’m facing my last setting sun, it’s, “Goodbye,” to this old worn out body and a hope for a shiny new one.
I’M STILL HERE
I’m still here, I’m feeling kinda shoddy
I’m still here in mind and body
I’m still here. My hands are gnarled and knotty but,
I’m still here. I’m still here.
It was New Year’s eve 2005
26 men walked into the mine
There was an explosion and the cavein
13 came back out and 13 were left behind
Little girls play in the kitchen
Little boys play in the yard
Little girls watch what mama’s are fixin
For daddys out working so hard
I’m still here deep in the darkness
I’m still here in the cold cold ground
I’m still here, can you hear me
I’m still here praying to be found
So they drill down to the miners
Listning for a sound and there’s silence
At the truck stops and the diners
In this frozen little town
And the wifes wait on the surface
Children at their side
Praying Daddy’s coming home,
Coming home tonight
I’m still here. You can hear the pin drop
I’m still here but I won’t nbe long
I’m still here come and get me
I’m still here come take me home
LULLABY
Close your eyes and tell me. Tell me what you see
In that sleepy landscape of your reverie
Can you count the blossoms in the garden of your mind
Think about the mountains, the flowers and the trees
Think about the golden, amber autumn leaves
Imagine pretty patterns in the pictures that you’ll find
Can you see the sparrows and the pigeons clinging to
the wire? Can you hear the wind blowing thru their
feathers like an angel choir?
Close your eyes and listen. Listen to them sleeping
The bears are hibernating (Squirrels in the treetops)
Chickens cease their peeping
Sleepy blossoms closing in the garden of your mind
Listen to the water flowing in the river
Gophers in their burrows sleep without a shiver
Sleepy fading pictures of the patterns in your mind
Can you see the sparrows and the pigeons clinging to
the wire? Can you hear the wind blowing thru their
feathers like an angel choir?
Listen to the snowfall. Listen to your heart beat
Listen to the sunset. Mmmmmm
Listen to the moon as it whispers across the sky
The silence of your pillow. The quiet in your eyes.
SLAUGHTER MOUNTAIN
Produced by James Michael Taylor
Good Oops Studios of Fort Worth,Texas
for TEXAS WATER RECORDS
contact - www.txh2o.com
All songs by James Michael Taylor
(C) 2006 Royal T Music - ASCAP
except * (HICKORY STIX) by JMT & Lisa Aschmann (C) 2006 Nashville Geographics/Royal T Music
Cover photo:Fred Teeters and fellow coal miner, circa 1919, Orme, TN
Photographer unknown
JMT photo by RaByn James 2004
RaByn James plays the VariAxe on HOEDOWN
These songs were recorded on my computer using
a program called NUENDO. I use an Earthworks mic
and a MOTU interface. Most of the drum sounds
are samples from a program called Acid.
jamesmichaeltaylor@earthlink.net
www.jamesmichaeltaylor.com
James Michael Taylor
1. BIG FAT HORSE
2. HOEDOWN
3. PROLOG
4. CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS MEMORIES
5. DIAMONDS & WATER
6. FRUSTRATED ARTIST
7. COAL FEVER
8. LISA MAKES APPOINTMENTS
9. HICKORY STIX
10. SUNLIGHT ON SPIDER WEBS
11. SOMEONE’S LITTLE BROTHER/HELP
12. OH, JIMMY!
13. SLAUGHTER MOUNTAIN
14. I’M STILL HERE
15. LULLABY
16. EPILOG
All songs by James Michael Taylor and published by Royal T Music except HICKORY STIX, Lisa Aschmann and James Michael Taylor Published by Nashville Geographic & Royal T Music
SLAUGHTER MOUNTAIN is not a name on a sign at the edge of any town or at the base of any mountain that I can show you on a map. But I can show you the creek into which my mother emptied her tubercular mother's spit bucket and I can show you the sealed entrance to the mine where my grandfather, Fred Teeters breathed the dust that destroyed his lungs. I can show you the mislabeled grave stones that mark their resting place. I can show you the cave my mother played in with her friends. The cave is now a national monument. I can show you the factory that makes the hickory handles. I can show you the river where someone's little brother was swept away that day and I can show you a picture in a yearbook of a girl named Marie Angel. I can show you sunlight on spider webs and I can show you a bale of cotton. The same five hundred pound bale of cotton that scabbed human hands picked for two dollars and fifty cents. I can show you the grave of those who demanded one dollar for each hundred pounds. I can show you the berries on the fence at the end of the trail and I can show you the same sun that sat on that mountain.
1. BIG FAT HORSE (From a folk song called SHADY GROVE)
Wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
Corn to feed him on
Pretty little girl to stay at home
Feed him when I’m gone
Wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
Wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE…
I wish I had a mountain top
Look out to the sea
Wish I had a mountain top
See what I could see
Wish I had a mountain top
Wish I had a mountain top…
I wish I had a buffalo
A bone to tan his skin
I wish I had a buffalo
Corn to feed my kin
I wish I had a buffalo
I wish I had a buffalo…
I wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
Corn to feed him, on
Pretty little girl to stay at home
Fed him when I’m gone
I wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
I wish I had a mountain top
I wish I had a buffalo
What can we do with the drunken miner
What can we do with the drunken soldier
What can we do with the drunken sailor
Early in the morning
I wish I had a big fat frog
Fry him in a pan
Open up some pork and beans
Eat ‘em from the can
I wish I had a BIG FAT HORSE
I wish I had a mountain top
I wish I had a buffalo….
Wish I had a big fat frog.....
2. GRASSICAL HOEDOWN (From the traditional song PICK A BALE OF COTTON)
An effort to do a slide show at a dance that takes place
at the same time on two different ends of the country:
The San Jouquin Valley of California and the Sequatchie Valley in Tennessee.
Hey, now. Hoe, now. Hey, now. Hoe, now
Chop that cotton row. Oh. Oh
One, two, three, four Hoe now. Hey now.
What you got to say, now.
Tell me what you said. What’s in your pretty head
(Swing your partner) Oh, oh. Allemande right.
All together now. All together now
Got a little work gotta do today.
Gotta little work gotts do today
Gotta little work gotta do today
Before I get my paycheck
Hi, ho, here we go, make some money and buy some clothes.
Meet me at the dance hall.
Ha, ha, ha, ha. Hoe, now. Hey, now .
Pick a bale a day now. Oh, Yeah.
Sixty cents a hundred.
When I was a teenager my moma said
“You really know how to pick em.” Oh, oh, oh.
Pick one bale and I make three dollars
Oh, oh, bless my soul
Bolls hurt my fingers and it makes me holler
You got a june bug on your collar
I look at all the hungry people
I’m so hungry it makes me swaller
Hang it on the fence it’ll dry by evenin’
Gotta get to town now
Bathin’ in the creek and I think I’m freezin’
When I was a little boy my mama said,
“Now son, you really know how to pick em’.
Hey, now. Ho, now. Hey, now. Hoe now
Chop that cotton row now.
Woe. Vote for your sweet heart
Hoe now. Hey now
What you got to say, now.
Tell me what you said.
What’s in your pretty head now
Woe. Woe.
Got a little work gotta do today
Got a little work gotta do today
Before I get my paycheck
Hi, ho, here we go
Make some money and buy some clothes
Little bitty mouse runs across my banjo
Now I lay me down to sleep my soul to keep.
I’m waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
3. PROLOGUE
I was born in California. I was raised in California.
To me the world was California. Everything else was some strange place.
One place I knew about was Tennessee where my mom grew up.
I heard her stories about how her dad being a miner
and her brothers and sisters fighting and divorcing and trying to kill eachother
and being alcoholics and not getting along
I thought maybe I’d write some day, like Faulkner, about the South.
How sad it all was and how impossible it all seemed.
And then I left California. Spent the last thirty something years in Texas.
Tennessee still seems like a strange place that got lost somewhere in the past.
Back roads into Orem. Go to the hickory handle factory there in Sequatchie.
Take I 24 out of Marion County into Chattanooga...
4. CALIFORNIA CHRISTMAS MEMORIES
This was one of the songs I entered in the Christmas Song contest sponsored by the Fort Worth Songwriters Association in 2005. I wanted to write about the importance of wrapping paper at Christmas. A song called REDNECK CHRISTMAS won.
Take me back to California on a sunny Christmas morn.
Well, Christmas there was different on those Mojave Desert nights.
No snow and not much money for sharp clothes or hunting knifes.
In fact we got a lot of toothpaste and some clothes we'd done worn
out. Once I unwrapped a can of Pork 'n Beans. I said, "Holy cow!"
Then, Dad would turn to Mom and see that twinkle in her eye. And he
almost broke out laughing when John unwrapped his old bow tie. It
was an instant disappointment, enough to ruin the year. Somehow
we rose above it all and we're all still glad to be here
Take me back to California, to the Christmas sunshine warm.
California Christmas memories where my expectations formed.
Just me and my two brothers and a happy dad and mom.
Take me back to California on that sunny Christmas morn.
Daddy had a sense of humor and he had a narrow smile
He made the best of what we had, sometimes it got real wild.
One time he took two mattresses and he made a trampoline.
Well, me and John would jump off the roof on the count of three.
Well, I'd jump off. John was what we call a fraidy cat.
He'd say, “Two and a quarter, two and a half, two and three quarters...”
He’s bigger than me now but he's still a fraidy cat.
Take me back to California on a sunny Christmas morn.
My dad, he had his theories about what matters in this world
It don't matter if you are a boy or if you are a girl
Inside we're all the same so we might as well be having fun
'Cause once we take off all the wrapping the guessing is all done.
And, my daddy had his theories about holidays and things
It wasn't how many quail you killed , it was all about the bang
And once the presents opened and living room's all clean
The wrapping's what it's all about in that desert Christmas scene
Take me back to California to the Christmas sunshine warm
California Christmas memories when my expectations formed
Just me and my two brothers and a healthy dad and mom
Take me back to California on a sunny Christmas morn.
5. DIAMONDS & WATER
I think I sleep-walked one night to the studio.
That's the only explanation that makes any sense to me about this...
You wear diamonds on your fingers.
You wear diamonds on your ears
and you wear diamonds on your necklace.
You wear diamonds to the party.
You wear diamonds to the banquet.
You wear diamonds to the opera.
But I’ll take a thousand gallons of water.
You can keep your diamonds.
You can keep your gold and you can keep your platinum.
But I’ll breathe fresh air in a meadow.
A meadow. Remember the meadow?
6. FRUSTRATED ARTIST
My argument for supporting the arts...
He was a FRUSTRATED ARTIST
trying to sell his pictures on the street.
He was a FRUSTRATED ARTIST,
never selling quite enough to eat, so
he overcompensated for the lack of
compensation for the pictures that he
drew, and he took out his frustrations
on the gypsies of the nation and an
occasional Jew
He was a FRUSTRATED ARTIST
Drawing some new borders on the map
He was a FRUSTRATED ARTIST
Drawing blood while Europe took a nap
We all know frustration can make a
man to do crazy things. We all know
frustration can black an eye and make
a gun go “Bang!” “Garble, garble.”
Roughly translated,
“If I had been taken seriously as an artist
I never would have gotten involved in politics.”
Da da da...
7. COAL FEVER
Sometime back in the 70s I was thinking about jumping freight trains when I was a boy and that old song Coal Tattoo. I wrote music again and again over the years but until recently the music wouldn't stick to it.
When I caught the fever I was ten years old
Mama called the doctor, so the story is told
And the doctor's diagnosis made her blood run cold
He said, "Your son's been infected by the #9 coal"
COAL FEVER
I never told my mama how I got the disease
I hid the black scars on my elbows and knees
You try to grab a boxcar when she's starting to roll
And you miss the first step, you get a fist full of coal
COAL FEVER
COAL FEVER. . .You know it runs in your blood
COAL FEVER. . .Turns your name into mud
You got to find a woman in every town
That's the only way to keep the fever down
COAL FEVER
They say you starve a fever when you feed it the coal,
but a wife and three kids can get mighty old
I didn't leave a trace. I never looked back
They found my old DeSoto on the railroad track
COAL FEVER
Well, my mama died of cancer and my daddy lost heart.
Try not to think about it, 'cause it tears me apart.
The fever keeps me hopping and I don't want to be late
when I ride that Midnight Special thru the pearly gate
COAL FEVER...
8. LISA MAKES APPOINTMENTS
Lisa makes appointments for her friends to come and cry
She’s got a comfy shoulder and an empathetic sigh
Lisa’s had some troubles. Enough to last a life
But, Lisa makes appointments so her friends can come and cry
Her friends don’t see the fingers that her father broke, each one
Like pretzels, brittle snaps the little fingers soon were done
They don’t know about the husband that died so long ago
Or the house that washed into the sea and took away the road
I don’t know how Lisa does it but she does it every day
The music in her heart must wash it all away
Lisa’s not above the storm and Lisa’s not beneath the waves
I don’t know how Lisa does it but she does it every day
Yes, Lisa makes appointments for her friends to come and cry
About their freshly busted lip or a brand new blackened eye
Or a fingernail that’s damaged by the strings of a guitar
Or some imagined insult atop an imaginary scar
So her friends go cry on Lisa and she takes it with a shrug
The hell in all their lives won’t make a lump beneath her rug
And when the crying’s over, she knows it’s just a phase
Lisa hugs her friend and writes another song of praise.
I don’t know how Lisa does it but she does it every day
The music in her heart must wash it all away.
Lisa’s not above the storm and Lisa’s not beneath the waves
When Lisa goes to funerals Lisa smells the flowers on the graves
9. HICKORY STIX*
I wrote this poem sitting at the dining room table with Lisa Aschmann at her apartment in Nashville one evening. She kept saying "No, that verse belongs in another song," and "That's a keeper..." and at some point she started singing it back to me. I said, "We need a chorus." Lisa said, "No." The next morning she said, "You were right. We need a chorus," and she sang me three notes. I took those notes and made them into a howl. We liked that. Then we wrote the ending together. We celebrated. It was our first song together.
Billy Joe and Don McRay drive to work each dawn at six
Down the mountain to the factory that makes handles out of hickory sticks.
Their job is easy labor, hanging handles on the line that drags them thru the lacquer. Killing more than time
First batch of handles drying on the dripping drying rack
Another batch of brain cells dying. They'll never get them back
Bobtail full of handles. Yard high with hickory chips.
Eyes glazed like a pastry. They wipe sweat from their cracking lips
They don’t worry about no G-man come close the factory down
They got a cousin's got an uncle's got connections back in town.
And there's not a living thing within ten feet of that room
Not a silver fish, not a cockroach. Not a seedpod, not a bloom
The wind once blew a firefly, blinking thru the door
They swore it was a spaceship they swatted to the floor
They don't smoke tobacco. They don't need a whiskey fix
At night deep in their pillows they dream about hickory sticks
Hearse heads down the mountain, followed by pickup trucks
The boys are leaving early and they're going home deluxe
Teachers called them slackers. Boss said, “They’re just hicks,
But someone's got lacquer handles made of hickory sticks.”
Somebody’s gotta lacquor hickory handled hardware
Somebody’s gotts lacquor handles made of hickory stix.
10. SUNLIGHT ON SPIDER WEBS (an instrumental)
11. SOMEONE’S LITTLE BROTHER / HELP / THE SOUND OF WATER
A scene from RAZ ON THE BRAZ 2005
I open up the faucet. Water squirts out of the hose
Gurgle, gurgle, splitter, splatter on the lizards and the toads
The mulch rolls like it's boiling. River sound in miniature
Every day I think about it, but I never can be sure...
He said, "Help." A lonely cry for his existence
He said, "Help." The campground echoed his resistance
And as I see him in the distance I respond at his insistence
He said, "Help," as he flowed down with the water
Not a scream, just that word and not much louder
Just a statement, not a shout. He held his chin up like an otter
He said, "Help," as the swelling waters lift him
He said, "Help," the sand beneath his feet was shifting
Lost his footing so he's drifting.
Will the hands of time constrict him?
He said, "Help."
I got sunflowers and tomatoes, caster beans and summer squash
I got roses piled with coffee grounds but this summer is a wash
There's lightning and the thunder sparking ‘cross the dusty plane
Though I love the distant fireworks, what I really need is rain
He said, "Help." Not like he was dying
He said, "Help." And it was me that he was eyeing
Our time had come, there's no denying. Like a puppy's gentle crying.
He said, "Help." I knew I was rushing into trouble
He said, "Help." I knew the drowning could be double
That I must avoid a struggle with the boy that broke the bubble
He said, "Help." Oh, why can't I forget it?
He said, "Help." But to forget is not permitted
We can't stop once we've committed. I'm confused and I admit it.
He said, "Help."
We were meant to meet that day, bobbing in the current
You can't hold destiny at bay when you're stripped of all deterrents
And the memory will replay, yes, the river scene recurrent
He said, "Help." People standing there just talking
On the shore, just drinking beer and gawking
Smoking cigarettes and laughing, all, the fun that they were having
He said, "Help," as he felt the river's power
He said, "Help, help me delay my final hour."
Though unspoken, I could sense it. You can buy, but no one rents it.
He said, "Help." He was someone's little brother
He said, "Help," and somewhere he had a mother
And where’s this child’s father as I splash across the water
He said, "Help." I said, "Son, don't stop trying.
He was silent as I shoved him toward the shore line
All the people standing there.
I said, "Do something. Don't just stare."
I said, "Help!"
OH, JIMMY!
Upon seeing a picture of a beautiful girl named Marie Angel
in my mother's 1939 Marion County, Tennessee high school year book.
After a year of thinking about what the attraction could mean...
On page thirty of a yearbook
He found a picture sweet
A girl named Marie Angel
In school right down the street
He hadn’t noticed that the date was 1983
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
That night he told his mother
He’d finally found the one
She smiled and hugged her angel
She said, “That’s wonderful, Son.”
She didn’t think to ask him who this girl could be.
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
Later in the evening
Something on her mind
Prompted her to ask
About her darling’s loving find
He said, “I found her picture in a book at Dougan’s store.”
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
He said, “Her name is Marie Angel.”
And his mom began to cry
She couldn’t even say the words
When Jimmy asked her, “Why?”
How do you keep a secret you always thought was best?
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
On page ninety in that yearbook
Is a picture of that girl
She stands by Jimmy’s father
King and Queen of Homecoming World
Nobody seemed to notice that the Queen was great with child
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
No more words were spoken
About that day again
Jimmy bought the yearbook
And he holds it now and then
Perhaps, some things are best left unspoken if you can.
Oh, Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy!
On page 30 of the yearbook he found the picture sweet...
SLAUGHTER MOUNTAIN
For my mother's funeral.
My mom’s dad was a coal miner. Her mother died of TB when she was a kid. When she was 12 her dad, dying of black lung, slit his throat with a butcher knife. That left her with a cripple little brother to take care of and a bunch of big brothers and sisters to take care of her...When I come to the end of that old dirt road where the berries all grow on the fence and the trail wonders down to the water’s edge and the footprints of all my old friends. She told John once if she hadn’t stuck with her guns as often as she did she wouldn’t have been right as often as she was. So he put that on a piece of paper and framed it and hung it on the wall so we could all remember her stradegy in life. And tho I follow in the footsteps of my friends and the road I walk down had been tramped in to stone. All the tears that I’ve cried will have turned into dust and my life will pass like shadow into the shade. Where the crickets are fiddling at midnight. And the toad frogs all sing to the moon, all the grasshoppers listening and smiling and the coyotes howling the tune. When I come to the end of life’s journey and I’m facing my last setting sun, it’s, “Goodbye,” to this old worn out body and a hope for a shiny new one.
I’M STILL HERE
I’m still here, I’m feeling kinda shoddy
I’m still here in mind and body
I’m still here. My hands are gnarled and knotty but,
I’m still here. I’m still here.
It was New Year’s eve 2005
26 men walked into the mine
There was an explosion and the cavein
13 came back out and 13 were left behind
Little girls play in the kitchen
Little boys play in the yard
Little girls watch what mama’s are fixin
For daddys out working so hard
I’m still here deep in the darkness
I’m still here in the cold cold ground
I’m still here, can you hear me
I’m still here praying to be found
So they drill down to the miners
Listning for a sound and there’s silence
At the truck stops and the diners
In this frozen little town
And the wifes wait on the surface
Children at their side
Praying Daddy’s coming home,
Coming home tonight
I’m still here. You can hear the pin drop
I’m still here but I won’t nbe long
I’m still here come and get me
I’m still here come take me home
LULLABY
Close your eyes and tell me. Tell me what you see
In that sleepy landscape of your reverie
Can you count the blossoms in the garden of your mind
Think about the mountains, the flowers and the trees
Think about the golden, amber autumn leaves
Imagine pretty patterns in the pictures that you’ll find
Can you see the sparrows and the pigeons clinging to
the wire? Can you hear the wind blowing thru their
feathers like an angel choir?
Close your eyes and listen. Listen to them sleeping
The bears are hibernating (Squirrels in the treetops)
Chickens cease their peeping
Sleepy blossoms closing in the garden of your mind
Listen to the water flowing in the river
Gophers in their burrows sleep without a shiver
Sleepy fading pictures of the patterns in your mind
Can you see the sparrows and the pigeons clinging to
the wire? Can you hear the wind blowing thru their
feathers like an angel choir?
Listen to the snowfall. Listen to your heart beat
Listen to the sunset. Mmmmmm
Listen to the moon as it whispers across the sky
The silence of your pillow. The quiet in your eyes.
SLAUGHTER MOUNTAIN
Produced by James Michael Taylor
Good Oops Studios of Fort Worth,Texas
for TEXAS WATER RECORDS
contact - www.txh2o.com
All songs by James Michael Taylor
(C) 2006 Royal T Music - ASCAP
except * (HICKORY STIX) by JMT & Lisa Aschmann (C) 2006 Nashville Geographics/Royal T Music
Cover photo:Fred Teeters and fellow coal miner, circa 1919, Orme, TN
Photographer unknown
JMT photo by RaByn James 2004
RaByn James plays the VariAxe on HOEDOWN
These songs were recorded on my computer using
a program called NUENDO. I use an Earthworks mic
and a MOTU interface. Most of the drum sounds
are samples from a program called Acid.
jamesmichaeltaylor@earthlink.net
www.jamesmichaeltaylor.com
Labels: Slaughter Mountain James Michael Taylor
COUNTER CLOCKWISE
Jasper James and the COWTOWN BONERS
When I was a kid, the songs on the radio were my parents songs. Then, when I was in 7th grade, the Everly Brothers sang Bye Bye Love and the radio was talking to me. I saw them at the State Fair of California one year when I was in high school. Matching black guitars. It's still burned in my brain. My junior year I sang Everly Brothers songs with a senior named Bob Waterman. We would play their records at talent shows and sing real loud over them. We were THE JIMBOBS. It was our music. Then, my senior year I had a girlfriend named Cathy and the Everly Brothers sang a song called Cathy's Clown. It was personal. I was humiliated. The Kingston Trio sang BLOWING IN THE WIND and I discovered "Question Songs." WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE? Questions that were suggesting that there were answers. Eventually I began to formulate my own questions and I'd either find some answers in the songs I was singing or I would take my guitar for a walk and listen for some answers of my own. I came to understand what the poet meant when he said, "The unexamined song is not worth writing." jmt
COUNTER CLOCKWISE
Jasper James and the COWTOWN BONERS
1. PROBLEMS *(F&B Bryant for the Everly Brothers 1958)
2. NO NEW LOVE
3. MEETING MAIA
4. CHOICES
5. BROKE PIANO
6. JUST A CAT
7. ACID TEARS
8. DENIAL SONATA
9. SHE DIDN’T KNOW
10. LAMENT FOR HORNY TOAD
11. SLOOP JOHN B (9/11 Update)
12. SONG of the CIRCLING MOON
13. TEENAGERS
14. THERE IS A LOVE
15 PROBLEMS *(REVISITED)(F&B Bryant)
All songs by Jasper James except where noted*.
Produced by “Sequatchie” Bill Burnette
at GOOD OOPS studios of Fort Worth
contact Jasper James at jasperjames@txh2o.com
PROBLEMS (Everly Brothers 1958)
PROBLEMS, problems, problems all day long.
Will my problems work out right or wrong?
I can’t get the car. My grades ain’t been so good.
My love life’s just not swinging like it should.
WORRIES, pile upon my head.
Woe is me, I should have stayed in bed.
My parents don’t like anything I do.
My teachers seem to feel the same way too
PROBLEMS, problems, problems
All on account of me loving you like I do
PROBLEMS problems, problems
Won’t be solved until I’m sure of you
PROBLEMS, problems, problems all day long.
Will my problems work out right or wrong.
My parents don’t like anything I do.
My teachers seem to feel the same way too.
PROBLEMS, problems, problems all day long…
© 1958 Acuff-Rose
Words and music by F. & B. Bryant
An Everly Brothers song arranged by Jasper James
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE like an old in this town
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE like an old love
To take and turn my heart around
Stop it on a dime when you said that you’d be mine
Oh, oh yeah
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE like an old love in my heart
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE like an old love
Take and tear my world apart
Bringing back the time I dreamed that you’d be mine...Oh, oh yeah.
CHORUS...Tell me what a year or two can mean
After almost twenty years
And tell me why my heart is so serene
Every day when you are near
"Skateland would like to welcome the
Woodlake Future Farmers here tonight
And their adviser, Mr. Taylor
And their special guests,
the Future Homemakers of America and their adviser,
the lovely Ramona Diez. Everybody get a partner now and skate,
COUNTER CLOCKWISE."
There ain’t no fool like an old fool
And I’m going to prove that to you honey
No there ain’t no fool like an old fool…
Bringing back the time when you said
that you’d be mine...Oh, oh yeah.
MEETING MAIA
Where the tram stops in front of the Van Gogh Museum, I waited there.
She said she’d be wearing, “Oh never mind.” She’d find me. Cowboys were rare.
The sun don’t shine on Amsterdam and no one seems to care.
In the tunnel underneath the Reich’s Museum there was this brass quartette
standing over to the side, waiting for the guitar player to get through.
And then he packed his bag and they stood there and played as the bicycles rolled by.
She said she’s be wearing, “Oh never mind,” she’d find me. Cowboys were rare
The sun don’t shine on Amsterdam
The sun don’t shine on Amsterdam
And no one seems to care…
CHOICES
“After our house was bomb
I was confuse. Why are they burning down my house?
My neighbor house? It’s very confuse to me.”
“Is your husband a hero? Is he a murderer? What is he? Did he kill people over there?
Yes, he probably did. And were these people threatening his country? No they were not.
I don’t see my husband as a murderer.
But at the same time we have to look at it for what it is.”
“He’d spent his life playing football.
And a Navy attack squadron is like a flying football team. You can’t let your team down.”
“We never talked about the fact that he would have to kill people. Maybe even a child.
I realized that we hadn’t ever talked honestly about what war means.”
If you say you have no choice, you’re a liar and a coward
I should know.
(You’re a liar and a coward.)
Because every time you get an order you decide to say “Yes” or “No.”
(You decide.)
I told you, “No I won’t.”
And I mean, “I won’t.”
It’s not, “I can’t.” I won’t.
When I got to basic I realized I wasn’t going to kill anybody, so I wasn’t about to go out there and learn how to kill people or practice killing people. I just said, “No!.”
“ I wouldn’t do the thing that I did if I have another choice.”
“We sentence you to three years at hard labor, suspension of pay and a dishonorable discharge.”
We call it the Viet Nam war but,
Zoran and everybody else that I met there call it the American War.”
“I tried to tell you in my letters how detached I feel from the whole situation. It’s as if I were a bystander at my own life, calmly watching myself do things that I never expected or desired to do and merely marking time in a life which is too short to mark time in.”
“I don’t think he wanted to be an aggressor and I think he was unwillingly cast in that roll the moment that he started flying those missions over North Viet Nam, and I think he knew it was not something that he wanted to do, even thought he was following orders.”
“I can’t see killing a man for holding a hoe or a rake.
And if it was a weapon I want to be damned sure before I killed him. Damned sure.”
“He didn’t like the idea of having to kill.”
Italacised voices are from the movie, REGRET TO INFORM, written, directed and produced by Barbara Sonneborn (www.regrettoinform.org)
BROKE PIANO
I have these piano harps that I salvaged from Pianos that paople threw away.
I built one into the wall at my house. I made another into a bed. Another I destroyed in the course of trying to make it into something else...
I am a BROKE PIANO.
I got no damper and no keys
The only thing that moves my strings
is when somebody breathes
And when you laugh I shutter,
and when you cry I moan
And as long as voices reach to me
I will not sing alone
I am a BROKE PIANO
you made into this bed
And no one knows I’m under here
listening to everything that’s said
Did you know that cries are music
and laughter is a song
And did you know that as you speak
my strings will sing along
It’s the same with your guitar
Or a French Harp I presume
Or the water in your bathtub
Or the curtains in your room
I am a BROKE PIANO
You built into this wall
I listen and I answer
Every time you call
I feel it when you pluck me
I feel the slamming door
I echo when you grumble
And when you cry out for more
I am a BROKE PIANO
You dumped here by the curb
Just waiting for the rain to fall
And warp my sounding board
My strings will rust and rattle
As booming speakers pass
And I will finally lose my voice
Be hauled away as trash
It’s the same with your guitar
Or a French Harp I presume
Or the bubbles in your bathtub
Or the water in your womb
I am a BROKE PIANO
So what then could I know
Oh, I’m no more a cripple
Than a fiddle without a bow
Each thing you do starts something
A ripple or a wave
That might go on forever
Far beyond your grave
I am a BROKE PIANO
JUST A CAT
Firecracker was our cat from the day we found him taped to a spent firecracker,
burned and scarred for life. A friend's dog played to rough with him one day
and we buried his frail old body down by the creek.
It looks like someone taped a
firecracker to him and blew it off.
“Firecracker?”
Just a cat.
He was just a cat
Just a cat.
He was just a cat
A raggedy old cat.
So, why are we crying?
The world is on fire.
Light the fuse, it’s a firecracker.
“Firecracker?”
“Firecracker?”
“Here he is!”
“Oh, no!”
Just a cat,
He was just a cat.
Just a cat,
He was just a cat.
So, why are we crying?
The world is on fire.
It’s a firecracker.
ACID TEARS
As the hours turn into days
And the weeks turn into years
I am happy
But I’m always close to tears
As surely as the love that we share will last forever
Our bodies will die and our love will go on
And though the thought that love will last forever
Is an interesting idea
The fact that you and I must part with our love
It’s no fun at all.
DENIAL SONATA
Denial’s not a river in Egypt
Oh, yes it is. Oh, yes it is.
The Nile is a river in Egypt
Oh, yes it is. Oh, yes it is.
Put your feet in the water
Put your head in the sand
Put your hands in your pockets
Try to clap for the band
Put your nose to the grindstone
Look straight ahead
I was reading this book the other day
and it said we souldn’t edit reality
for the sake of simplicity so I guess it’s true.
Get your mind out the gutter
Get your head out your ass
SHE DIDN’T KNOW
A song for BeJae Flemming
Her flame wasn’t orange. It was white.
The kind you can’t see at the noonday bright
Not the fickle flicker of a candlelight
But a point miles off on a moonless night
She didn’t know she was beautiful
Nobody told her. I sure didn’t
She didn’t know she was beautiful
How could I know she didn’t know
Her smile was not painted
Red and rich
Her bosom no cartoon
No break a stitch
And her hair was not teased to a silly nest
She just walked by. She just walked by.
She didn’t boast about songs she wrote
She didn’t utter the poet’s quote
And she didn’t purr like a motor boat
She just walked by. She just walked by
Every time she walked by me
I couldn’t reach but I could see
She didn’t know she was beautiful
Nobody told her. I sure didn’t
She didn’t know she was beautiful
How could I know she didn’t know
LAMENT FOR HORNY TOAD
I wrote this rant to Keren Freedman
one afternoon and she wrote me back and said I should put it to music.
What a joke!
Yep, yep, yep…
We were listening to this radio program
And this guy was being interviewed
and every time he would answer a question he would go, “Yep!”
Mother explained to me that you are supposed to say, “Yes.”
That saying “Yep” is rude.
So, now, whenever I want to be rude I just say, “Yep, yep…”
So, what’s new?
Just another day at the world.
One to fight for.
Maybe we could save the horny toad.
Maybe we could save the horny toad.
But that would require we save the earth.
Ok. Good idea. Where do we start?
I don’t know.
Well, let’s see.
Teach me to read.
Teach me to think. Never mind.
Just help me consume more stuff.
It helps to keep the background noises down
And where and I going to get my next
Starbucks frappuccino if we destroy the world?
Okay. Good idea. Where do we start?
I don’t know.
Maybe you could save the horny toad.
Maybe we could save the horny toad…
But that would require we save the earth.
When I was a kid I lived on the desert and horny toads
could be found at every red ant hill. I would catch them
and put them in glass jars, and then I would forget them
and then I would find them in the sun and I would have
to go find more horny toads.
Teach me to read.
Teach me to think. Never mind.
Just help me consume more stuff
It helps keep the background noise down
But where will I get my next Starbucks cappuccino
if we destroy the world?
SLOOP JOHN B 9/11
(My take on 9/11)
‘Come on the SLOOP JOHN B
My grandfather and me…
Blindly sailing. Hopes are failing
Storm hangs o’re the sea
Guns a blazing. Waves amazing
Pants down around my knees
Captain he got drunk
Just sits there in a funk
Arms are aching. Back is breaking
How I need some sleep
Planes will crash. Glass will smash
And we will watch it on TV
Captain’s winking
Ship is sinking
And I just want to go home
I just want to go home
We come on the SLOOP JOHN B
My grandfather and me
I just want to believe
SONG OF THE CIRCLING MOON
Midland, Texas - 1978
We live on the shore of a mighty sea
Where the current’s strong and nothing is free
The water is cool at the warmest noon
And the tides are ruled by a circling moon
We live on the edge of eternity
With our minds entombed in the ceremony
And the dollar is strong where the blind can see
When the truth is a lie that’s nothing to me
Oh, how can we think that we run free
with the monkey s all a monkin’ in the monkey tree
And how can we think that you and me
Are freer than the wind or the Frickin Sea
We live at the heart of a Sicon Tree
Blame the signs of the times on illiteracy
We search for the power where the eye can see
And we find it not in the President Sea
We live in the midst of the Milli Tree
With the bombs at the bowels of Oblitera Sea
Where the waters are warmed by the Atom
And my love and my life need a Secera Sea
Oh, how can we think that we run free
with the monkey s all a monkin’ in the monkey tree
And how can we think that you and me
And freer than the wind or the Frickin Sea…
We live on the shore of a mighty sea
Where the current’s strong and nothing is free
The water is cool at the warmest noon
And the tides are ruled by a circling moon...
PEGGY MITCHELL - Background vocal on Round
TEENAGERS ARE STUPID
Teenagers are stupid. At least I was.
All the silly things they say:
“But daddy, everybody’s doing it.”
It’s a wonder we lived to be this old.
Teenagers are stupid.
Teenagers are stupid What a hoot!
How can you be so clueless
and not forget to breathe?
Teenagers are stupid.
THERE IS A LOVE
THERE IS A LOVE that withers. THERE IS A LOVE that fades
The kind of love that makes you want to hide behind the door Pull down the all shades.
THERE IS A LOVE that makes me want to tell you about how good I feel
THERE IS A LOVE that heals
Now THERE IS A LOVE that looks a lot like all the Other Loves
Tell me now, how can I tell One Love from Another Love
Get all mixed up and accuse some mother of a Smother Love
Get all puffed up and pass laws against Brother Love
Now, wait a minute!
THERE IS A LOVE that withers. THERE IS A LOVE that fades
The kind of love makes you want to lock all your doors, pull down all the shades.
THERE IS A LOVE that makes me want to tell you how good I feel
THERE IS A LOVE that heals
And then there’s the kind of love where folks just fight
and then make up and fight some more they call Love/Hate Love
And there’s those people who just kinda stumble around waiting for what they call Fate Love.
All them soccer dads checking out all them soccer moms looking around for some of that Yuppy Love
Or you can pin your hopes on some of that Good Old Fashioned Puppy Love.
Now, wait a minute.
THERE IS A LOVE that withers. THERE IS A LOVE that fades
Kind of love make you want to lock your door. Pull down all the shades
THERE IS A LOVE that makes me want to tell you how I feel.
THERE IS A LOVE that heals.
Well, I’d like to see some statistics on this thing they call Prim and Proper Love
Compare that to good old fashioned, god old fashioned, old fashioned Teeny bopper Love
I heard this song by this girl said she thought she’d fooled around and missed her love
I met a girl leaving the BLACK DOG one day, couldn’t believe anybody could resist her love….
Now, wait a minute!
DAVE ALLEN - Drums, PHIL WHITE - Guitar & Bass
COUNTER CLOCKWISE
produced by Jasper James & the Cowtown Boners
at The Good Oops Studios of Fort Worth, Texas
(in the vicinity of Eagle, Goldenrod, Riverside, Robinwood, Gwynn and Britian Streets - all of which contain the name of one of my children)
for TEXAS WATER ROCORDS & STUFF
Fort Worth, Texas
All songs except PROBLEMS by Jasper James
www.jamesmichaerltaylor.com
Horn arrangements by Deitle Dahm
COWTOWN BONERS, courtesy of Athol Records
Cover photo (C) 2004 Noah Telling
This CD was recorded and mixed (LOUD) using Sony MDR-7502 headphones (that’s $120.00 headphones) so it probably sounds like crap thru regular or high dollar speakers.
THE SMALL PRINT
If, for some reason, there is nothing on this disc, or there is a bunch of stuff you wish you hadn’t wasted your money on, just email me at any address you can find on this package and I will refund your money. If I gave it to you don’t act like I owe anything but I do thank you for taking the time to give it a listen...and I want to thank all the girls that turned me down when I was in high school and college so I didn’t end up married with children before I got a chance to spend some private time with Uncle Sam at the Fort Leavenworth Disciplinary barracks. Seriously!
Yours truly,
Jasper James Michael Taylor
Jasper James and the COWTOWN BONERS
When I was a kid, the songs on the radio were my parents songs. Then, when I was in 7th grade, the Everly Brothers sang Bye Bye Love and the radio was talking to me. I saw them at the State Fair of California one year when I was in high school. Matching black guitars. It's still burned in my brain. My junior year I sang Everly Brothers songs with a senior named Bob Waterman. We would play their records at talent shows and sing real loud over them. We were THE JIMBOBS. It was our music. Then, my senior year I had a girlfriend named Cathy and the Everly Brothers sang a song called Cathy's Clown. It was personal. I was humiliated. The Kingston Trio sang BLOWING IN THE WIND and I discovered "Question Songs." WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE? Questions that were suggesting that there were answers. Eventually I began to formulate my own questions and I'd either find some answers in the songs I was singing or I would take my guitar for a walk and listen for some answers of my own. I came to understand what the poet meant when he said, "The unexamined song is not worth writing." jmt
COUNTER CLOCKWISE
Jasper James and the COWTOWN BONERS
1. PROBLEMS *(F&B Bryant for the Everly Brothers 1958)
2. NO NEW LOVE
3. MEETING MAIA
4. CHOICES
5. BROKE PIANO
6. JUST A CAT
7. ACID TEARS
8. DENIAL SONATA
9. SHE DIDN’T KNOW
10. LAMENT FOR HORNY TOAD
11. SLOOP JOHN B (9/11 Update)
12. SONG of the CIRCLING MOON
13. TEENAGERS
14. THERE IS A LOVE
15 PROBLEMS *(REVISITED)(F&B Bryant)
All songs by Jasper James except where noted*.
Produced by “Sequatchie” Bill Burnette
at GOOD OOPS studios of Fort Worth
contact Jasper James at jasperjames@txh2o.com
PROBLEMS (Everly Brothers 1958)
PROBLEMS, problems, problems all day long.
Will my problems work out right or wrong?
I can’t get the car. My grades ain’t been so good.
My love life’s just not swinging like it should.
WORRIES, pile upon my head.
Woe is me, I should have stayed in bed.
My parents don’t like anything I do.
My teachers seem to feel the same way too
PROBLEMS, problems, problems
All on account of me loving you like I do
PROBLEMS problems, problems
Won’t be solved until I’m sure of you
PROBLEMS, problems, problems all day long.
Will my problems work out right or wrong.
My parents don’t like anything I do.
My teachers seem to feel the same way too.
PROBLEMS, problems, problems all day long…
© 1958 Acuff-Rose
Words and music by F. & B. Bryant
An Everly Brothers song arranged by Jasper James
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE like an old in this town
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE like an old love
To take and turn my heart around
Stop it on a dime when you said that you’d be mine
Oh, oh yeah
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE like an old love in my heart
AIN'T NO NEW LOVE like an old love
Take and tear my world apart
Bringing back the time I dreamed that you’d be mine...Oh, oh yeah.
CHORUS...Tell me what a year or two can mean
After almost twenty years
And tell me why my heart is so serene
Every day when you are near
"Skateland would like to welcome the
Woodlake Future Farmers here tonight
And their adviser, Mr. Taylor
And their special guests,
the Future Homemakers of America and their adviser,
the lovely Ramona Diez. Everybody get a partner now and skate,
COUNTER CLOCKWISE."
There ain’t no fool like an old fool
And I’m going to prove that to you honey
No there ain’t no fool like an old fool…
Bringing back the time when you said
that you’d be mine...Oh, oh yeah.
MEETING MAIA
Where the tram stops in front of the Van Gogh Museum, I waited there.
She said she’d be wearing, “Oh never mind.” She’d find me. Cowboys were rare.
The sun don’t shine on Amsterdam and no one seems to care.
In the tunnel underneath the Reich’s Museum there was this brass quartette
standing over to the side, waiting for the guitar player to get through.
And then he packed his bag and they stood there and played as the bicycles rolled by.
She said she’s be wearing, “Oh never mind,” she’d find me. Cowboys were rare
The sun don’t shine on Amsterdam
The sun don’t shine on Amsterdam
And no one seems to care…
CHOICES
“After our house was bomb
I was confuse. Why are they burning down my house?
My neighbor house? It’s very confuse to me.”
“Is your husband a hero? Is he a murderer? What is he? Did he kill people over there?
Yes, he probably did. And were these people threatening his country? No they were not.
I don’t see my husband as a murderer.
But at the same time we have to look at it for what it is.”
“He’d spent his life playing football.
And a Navy attack squadron is like a flying football team. You can’t let your team down.”
“We never talked about the fact that he would have to kill people. Maybe even a child.
I realized that we hadn’t ever talked honestly about what war means.”
If you say you have no choice, you’re a liar and a coward
I should know.
(You’re a liar and a coward.)
Because every time you get an order you decide to say “Yes” or “No.”
(You decide.)
I told you, “No I won’t.”
And I mean, “I won’t.”
It’s not, “I can’t.” I won’t.
When I got to basic I realized I wasn’t going to kill anybody, so I wasn’t about to go out there and learn how to kill people or practice killing people. I just said, “No!.”
“ I wouldn’t do the thing that I did if I have another choice.”
“We sentence you to three years at hard labor, suspension of pay and a dishonorable discharge.”
We call it the Viet Nam war but,
Zoran and everybody else that I met there call it the American War.”
“I tried to tell you in my letters how detached I feel from the whole situation. It’s as if I were a bystander at my own life, calmly watching myself do things that I never expected or desired to do and merely marking time in a life which is too short to mark time in.”
“I don’t think he wanted to be an aggressor and I think he was unwillingly cast in that roll the moment that he started flying those missions over North Viet Nam, and I think he knew it was not something that he wanted to do, even thought he was following orders.”
“I can’t see killing a man for holding a hoe or a rake.
And if it was a weapon I want to be damned sure before I killed him. Damned sure.”
“He didn’t like the idea of having to kill.”
Italacised voices are from the movie, REGRET TO INFORM, written, directed and produced by Barbara Sonneborn (www.regrettoinform.org)
BROKE PIANO
I have these piano harps that I salvaged from Pianos that paople threw away.
I built one into the wall at my house. I made another into a bed. Another I destroyed in the course of trying to make it into something else...
I am a BROKE PIANO.
I got no damper and no keys
The only thing that moves my strings
is when somebody breathes
And when you laugh I shutter,
and when you cry I moan
And as long as voices reach to me
I will not sing alone
I am a BROKE PIANO
you made into this bed
And no one knows I’m under here
listening to everything that’s said
Did you know that cries are music
and laughter is a song
And did you know that as you speak
my strings will sing along
It’s the same with your guitar
Or a French Harp I presume
Or the water in your bathtub
Or the curtains in your room
I am a BROKE PIANO
You built into this wall
I listen and I answer
Every time you call
I feel it when you pluck me
I feel the slamming door
I echo when you grumble
And when you cry out for more
I am a BROKE PIANO
You dumped here by the curb
Just waiting for the rain to fall
And warp my sounding board
My strings will rust and rattle
As booming speakers pass
And I will finally lose my voice
Be hauled away as trash
It’s the same with your guitar
Or a French Harp I presume
Or the bubbles in your bathtub
Or the water in your womb
I am a BROKE PIANO
So what then could I know
Oh, I’m no more a cripple
Than a fiddle without a bow
Each thing you do starts something
A ripple or a wave
That might go on forever
Far beyond your grave
I am a BROKE PIANO
JUST A CAT
Firecracker was our cat from the day we found him taped to a spent firecracker,
burned and scarred for life. A friend's dog played to rough with him one day
and we buried his frail old body down by the creek.
It looks like someone taped a
firecracker to him and blew it off.
“Firecracker?”
Just a cat.
He was just a cat
Just a cat.
He was just a cat
A raggedy old cat.
So, why are we crying?
The world is on fire.
Light the fuse, it’s a firecracker.
“Firecracker?”
“Firecracker?”
“Here he is!”
“Oh, no!”
Just a cat,
He was just a cat.
Just a cat,
He was just a cat.
So, why are we crying?
The world is on fire.
It’s a firecracker.
ACID TEARS
As the hours turn into days
And the weeks turn into years
I am happy
But I’m always close to tears
As surely as the love that we share will last forever
Our bodies will die and our love will go on
And though the thought that love will last forever
Is an interesting idea
The fact that you and I must part with our love
It’s no fun at all.
DENIAL SONATA
Denial’s not a river in Egypt
Oh, yes it is. Oh, yes it is.
The Nile is a river in Egypt
Oh, yes it is. Oh, yes it is.
Put your feet in the water
Put your head in the sand
Put your hands in your pockets
Try to clap for the band
Put your nose to the grindstone
Look straight ahead
I was reading this book the other day
and it said we souldn’t edit reality
for the sake of simplicity so I guess it’s true.
Get your mind out the gutter
Get your head out your ass
SHE DIDN’T KNOW
A song for BeJae Flemming
Her flame wasn’t orange. It was white.
The kind you can’t see at the noonday bright
Not the fickle flicker of a candlelight
But a point miles off on a moonless night
She didn’t know she was beautiful
Nobody told her. I sure didn’t
She didn’t know she was beautiful
How could I know she didn’t know
Her smile was not painted
Red and rich
Her bosom no cartoon
No break a stitch
And her hair was not teased to a silly nest
She just walked by. She just walked by.
She didn’t boast about songs she wrote
She didn’t utter the poet’s quote
And she didn’t purr like a motor boat
She just walked by. She just walked by
Every time she walked by me
I couldn’t reach but I could see
She didn’t know she was beautiful
Nobody told her. I sure didn’t
She didn’t know she was beautiful
How could I know she didn’t know
LAMENT FOR HORNY TOAD
I wrote this rant to Keren Freedman
one afternoon and she wrote me back and said I should put it to music.
What a joke!
Yep, yep, yep…
We were listening to this radio program
And this guy was being interviewed
and every time he would answer a question he would go, “Yep!”
Mother explained to me that you are supposed to say, “Yes.”
That saying “Yep” is rude.
So, now, whenever I want to be rude I just say, “Yep, yep…”
So, what’s new?
Just another day at the world.
One to fight for.
Maybe we could save the horny toad.
Maybe we could save the horny toad.
But that would require we save the earth.
Ok. Good idea. Where do we start?
I don’t know.
Well, let’s see.
Teach me to read.
Teach me to think. Never mind.
Just help me consume more stuff.
It helps to keep the background noises down
And where and I going to get my next
Starbucks frappuccino if we destroy the world?
Okay. Good idea. Where do we start?
I don’t know.
Maybe you could save the horny toad.
Maybe we could save the horny toad…
But that would require we save the earth.
When I was a kid I lived on the desert and horny toads
could be found at every red ant hill. I would catch them
and put them in glass jars, and then I would forget them
and then I would find them in the sun and I would have
to go find more horny toads.
Teach me to read.
Teach me to think. Never mind.
Just help me consume more stuff
It helps keep the background noise down
But where will I get my next Starbucks cappuccino
if we destroy the world?
SLOOP JOHN B 9/11
(My take on 9/11)
‘Come on the SLOOP JOHN B
My grandfather and me…
Blindly sailing. Hopes are failing
Storm hangs o’re the sea
Guns a blazing. Waves amazing
Pants down around my knees
Captain he got drunk
Just sits there in a funk
Arms are aching. Back is breaking
How I need some sleep
Planes will crash. Glass will smash
And we will watch it on TV
Captain’s winking
Ship is sinking
And I just want to go home
I just want to go home
We come on the SLOOP JOHN B
My grandfather and me
I just want to believe
SONG OF THE CIRCLING MOON
Midland, Texas - 1978
We live on the shore of a mighty sea
Where the current’s strong and nothing is free
The water is cool at the warmest noon
And the tides are ruled by a circling moon
We live on the edge of eternity
With our minds entombed in the ceremony
And the dollar is strong where the blind can see
When the truth is a lie that’s nothing to me
Oh, how can we think that we run free
with the monkey s all a monkin’ in the monkey tree
And how can we think that you and me
Are freer than the wind or the Frickin Sea
We live at the heart of a Sicon Tree
Blame the signs of the times on illiteracy
We search for the power where the eye can see
And we find it not in the President Sea
We live in the midst of the Milli Tree
With the bombs at the bowels of Oblitera Sea
Where the waters are warmed by the Atom
And my love and my life need a Secera Sea
Oh, how can we think that we run free
with the monkey s all a monkin’ in the monkey tree
And how can we think that you and me
And freer than the wind or the Frickin Sea…
We live on the shore of a mighty sea
Where the current’s strong and nothing is free
The water is cool at the warmest noon
And the tides are ruled by a circling moon...
PEGGY MITCHELL - Background vocal on Round
TEENAGERS ARE STUPID
Teenagers are stupid. At least I was.
All the silly things they say:
“But daddy, everybody’s doing it.”
It’s a wonder we lived to be this old.
Teenagers are stupid.
Teenagers are stupid What a hoot!
How can you be so clueless
and not forget to breathe?
Teenagers are stupid.
THERE IS A LOVE
THERE IS A LOVE that withers. THERE IS A LOVE that fades
The kind of love that makes you want to hide behind the door Pull down the all shades.
THERE IS A LOVE that makes me want to tell you about how good I feel
THERE IS A LOVE that heals
Now THERE IS A LOVE that looks a lot like all the Other Loves
Tell me now, how can I tell One Love from Another Love
Get all mixed up and accuse some mother of a Smother Love
Get all puffed up and pass laws against Brother Love
Now, wait a minute!
THERE IS A LOVE that withers. THERE IS A LOVE that fades
The kind of love makes you want to lock all your doors, pull down all the shades.
THERE IS A LOVE that makes me want to tell you how good I feel
THERE IS A LOVE that heals
And then there’s the kind of love where folks just fight
and then make up and fight some more they call Love/Hate Love
And there’s those people who just kinda stumble around waiting for what they call Fate Love.
All them soccer dads checking out all them soccer moms looking around for some of that Yuppy Love
Or you can pin your hopes on some of that Good Old Fashioned Puppy Love.
Now, wait a minute.
THERE IS A LOVE that withers. THERE IS A LOVE that fades
Kind of love make you want to lock your door. Pull down all the shades
THERE IS A LOVE that makes me want to tell you how I feel.
THERE IS A LOVE that heals.
Well, I’d like to see some statistics on this thing they call Prim and Proper Love
Compare that to good old fashioned, god old fashioned, old fashioned Teeny bopper Love
I heard this song by this girl said she thought she’d fooled around and missed her love
I met a girl leaving the BLACK DOG one day, couldn’t believe anybody could resist her love….
Now, wait a minute!
DAVE ALLEN - Drums, PHIL WHITE - Guitar & Bass
COUNTER CLOCKWISE
produced by Jasper James & the Cowtown Boners
at The Good Oops Studios of Fort Worth, Texas
(in the vicinity of Eagle, Goldenrod, Riverside, Robinwood, Gwynn and Britian Streets - all of which contain the name of one of my children)
for TEXAS WATER ROCORDS & STUFF
Fort Worth, Texas
All songs except PROBLEMS by Jasper James
www.jamesmichaerltaylor.com
Horn arrangements by Deitle Dahm
COWTOWN BONERS, courtesy of Athol Records
Cover photo (C) 2004 Noah Telling
This CD was recorded and mixed (LOUD) using Sony MDR-7502 headphones (that’s $120.00 headphones) so it probably sounds like crap thru regular or high dollar speakers.
THE SMALL PRINT
If, for some reason, there is nothing on this disc, or there is a bunch of stuff you wish you hadn’t wasted your money on, just email me at any address you can find on this package and I will refund your money. If I gave it to you don’t act like I owe anything but I do thank you for taking the time to give it a listen...and I want to thank all the girls that turned me down when I was in high school and college so I didn’t end up married with children before I got a chance to spend some private time with Uncle Sam at the Fort Leavenworth Disciplinary barracks. Seriously!
Yours truly,
Jasper James Michael Taylor
Labels: Counter Clockwise
