Category: acoustic

1 3 1
What you’ve lost
Might not be found
But for me
1 3 4
There’s a cost
T’get it unwound
Find the key
4 5 1
I’ll follow a track
To the ends of the earth and back
To set you free

What you need
You might not find
Without me
Any lead
To unwind
I can see

Down some rabbit hole
North or south to either pole
To set you free
5 4 1
Any person, any thing
Any problem that you bring
I’ll set you free

What you fear
Might get in
But not past me
The noise you hear
Drop of a pin
I guarantee

For what it’s worth
To the corners of the earth
To set you free

Any person, any thing
Any problem that you bring
Any time, any day
Just as long as you can pay
I’ll set you free

1 4 5 in D

Cowboys life is tough
Sitting in the saddle all day
Ropin and ridin and herdin
Ain’t all yippikiyay
End of the day yer dragging
Hard to muster a smile
Cookies always got something
Makes ridin herd worthwhile

chorus
Big old plate of beans
Really hits the spot
Fry ‘em up with bacon grease
Get them while they’re hot

sometimes he makes biscuits
biscuits sure are great
tasty little morsels good for
mopping up yer plate
Sunday morning flapjacks
while someone quotes the Book
he keeps a jug of syrup
that’s why we love our cook

chorus

coffee black and hot
really can’t go wrong
fresh pot every time we stop
keeps us going strong
can’t forget the bacon
flavors up the beans
the ladies all like bacon too
and you know what that means → Do You Like Bacon?

an unfinished masterpiece. yes, I had a strange and slightly disturbing dream.

I don’t know why I dream the kind of things I do
who can fathom the unconscious mind?
despite all their degrees and studying and science
they haven’t yet convinced the sleeping secrets to unwind

they say dreams can teach you something about life
this morning what I learned was all about my wife

you kiss way better than Taylor Swift
maybe it’s the practice, maybe it’s a gift
I hope that you don’t take this wrong
hope you don’t get miffed
but you kiss way better than Taylor Swift

while you sleep your brain is cleaning up its house
flushing out the nonsense and sludge
now maybe that’s the reason my dreams are full of junk
I try real hard to let ’em go, try hard not to judge

but while you’re in the middle it always seems so real
and lest you get the wrong impression this is how I feel

you kiss way better than Taylor Swift
maybe it’s the practice, maybe it’s a gift
I hope that you don’t take this wrong
hope you don’t get miffed
but you kiss way better than Taylor Swift

now you know I know you know that I’m joking
dreams are just the dust of tidying your brain
we both know the we belong together
in case somebody missed it I’d like to say it plain

when I’m asleep at night I ain’t the driver of that bus
it’s all a lot of nonsense, and between the two of us

you kiss way better than Taylor Swift
maybe it’s the practice, maybe it’s a gift
I hope that you don’t take this wrong
hope you don’t get miffed
and there’s no rift
we haven’t tiffed
I don’t get biffed
I’ll make a shift
now that I’ve riffed
you get my drift
it’s just your gift
but you kiss way better than Taylor Swift

Reading Grisham’s fine muckraking novel “Gray Mountain” put me in a mood, and when I tried to go to bed this came to me almost complete.

A D
Take the top off that mountain
E
Strip it bare
Bring in the world’s biggest dozer
Scrape out all that’s there

Maybe a boulder smash your house
Maybe the sludge floods your land
Maybe your kids all get cancer
Maybe you just don’t understand

D E
Gotta have coal
E A
Keep the country burning
Coal
Fire up the night
Coal
Natural resources
You keep talking wrong and right

Our lawyers get paid more than your lawyers
Don’t work half as hard
Oughta save your money
For cleaning up your yard

Chorus

Business is business
Nothing more
Nothing personal
No one keeping score

Chorus

Ain’t personal
So why you keeping score?

I know that you love him; he’s taken your heart
It seems you’re determined to tear us apart
So this is the end of the life that we share
But I know you love me; I know you still care
You say you’re ready to stand by his side
but I’m not prepared for my baby to become a bride

Under the stars by the campfire’s glow
Sharing the secrets that only we know
Flickering lights making stars of your eyes
The mem’ries remind me just how the time flies
You say that he gives you that same glow inside
but I’m not prepared for my baby to become a bride

Sometimes only music can say what I mean
A bittersweet moment each father’s foreseen
But life isn’t ever quite what you had planned
You gave him your heart so I’ll give him your hand
I know that you’re ready; this knot will be tied
but I’m not prepared for my baby to become a bride

I’ve been a fan all my life long
Of rock and roll’s electric three-chord songs
But I’ve come to a crossroads; time to move on
cause it all sounds the same, I guess the thrill is gone

So the first time in years I turned the dial
Looking for something new and worthwhile
I spun the knob and the next thing you know
Some guys leavin’ his woman for a rodeo

Chorus:
What’s that playing on my radio?
Can’t tell if it’s country
Or rock and roll
Hey, I kinda like it
I’m not just some crank
But it isn’t Led Zeppelin
And it sure isn’t Hank

My daddy used to sing and play guitar
He thought my rock and roll idols were pretty bizarre
Jimmie Rodgers and Hank, either Williams or Snow
He stuck with his heroes and let the rest go

So I knew about country – or I thought I did
Had some preconcieved notions from when I was a kid
But the next song’s about a singin’ mechanic
And some music advice and prodsponder panic

Chorus:
What’s that playing on my radio?
Can’t tell if it’s country
Or rock and roll
Hey, I kinda like it
I’m not just some crank
But it isn’t Led Zeppelin
And it sure isn’t Hank

Bridge:
Well you really got me on a stairway to heaven somehow
With or without you I feel like a free bird now

It’s interesting how my horizon’s expanded
Haven’t been this unsettled since the Eagles disbanded
But I’ll settle in and spend my afternoons
With guitars and Cadillacs and hillbilly tunes

Chorus:
What’s that playing on my radio?
Can’t tell if it’s country
Or rock and roll
Hey, I kinda like it
I’m not just some crank
But it isn’t Led Zeppelin
And it sure isn’t Hank

/Users/joel/Documents/writing/music/mp3/soon today now.mp3

1 5 4

(prechorus)
I need to show
I don’t want to go slow
– ’cause I need to know

(chorus)
is it soon today now
I need to know
is it soon today now
I need you to show me
it’s soon today now
’cause I need to know

story time’s done for tonight
those puppies got home safe again
you never get tired of that story
tuck you in, say a prayer, and then

chorus:
In the land of a little boy’s dream
Full of singing and games and ice cream
you’ve played hard all day
now sleep takes you away
to the land of a little boy’s dream

you’re asleep in no time at all
you never waste time counting sheep
I’m wondering what’s
going on in your head
and watching a while as you sleep

chorus

I know that some day you’ll grow up
to find out that life ain’t what it seems
but for now every night
it’ll all be alright
in the land of a little boy’s dream

chorus

to the land of a little boy’s dream

Seven steps up from West Thirty-Fifth
To an old brownstone
Whose bulky genius wouldn’t work at all
If I left him on his own

Hoisting himself out of that custom chair
Only exercise he’ll get
Elevator to his orchids fair
So he doesn’t break a sweat

Inspector Cramer in the big red chair
Chews on his unlit cigar
He swears someday he’s gonna get us both
But we all know he won’t get far

Theodore up in the orchid room
Saul and Fred and Fritz and me
Jump through hoops to suit his every whim
Best you’ll hear is ‘satisfactory’

Never leaves the house on business
Unless some flummery’s afoot
Maybe a meal upstairs at Rustermann’s
But he’d prefer to just stay put

So I go out with Lily Rowan
Flamingo lays out quite a spread
Back home a snack is always waiting
Big glass of milk and off to bed

But disappointed out they go
He seems impervious to needling
Unless the bank account is low

But when he finally takes an interest
He sits and thinks and thinks and sits
Lips pushing in and out with eyes closed
About as active as he gets

“Please sit down; eyes at a level”
“Will you have a beer with me?”
He doesn’t stand, he won’t shake hands
The author’s name his physiognomy

I’ve put up with this enfant terrible
Forty years and maybe more
And through ’em all I’ve quit so many times
I’d love to even up the score