ROOM 333, MOTEL 6, ALTOONA, PA
PETER, JOHN, AND MOSES
August 21, 2015,
5:00 am
I sit here in this hotel room, and listen to these walls,
I think of all the warning signs, and ignore those old pitfalls.
Like lightning strikes before the storm, the angels fill the room,
The highway calls, I'm out the door, and movin' on too soon.
Like sunrise turns to sunset, any road will do,
Altoona down to Staunton, Virginia skies are blue.
A friendly smile, a kind word, a mountain roadside view.
3 crosses on a hillside, the father, son, and you.
Peter, John, and Moses, friendship tried and true,
3 old men with kindred dreams, will sing their songs for you.
Then take off down the road again, and go their separate ways,
Soon come back together, for a long and happy stay.
Looking for direction, reaching for the stars,
Wearin' out more guitar strings, burnin' up more cars.
As tears roll from those eyes so blue, they enjoy that perfect view,
Peter, John and Moses sing one more song for you.
Weave a tale and strum a tune, and then their gone to soon,
Peter, John and Moses, give their hearts to you.
I think of all the warning signs, and ignore those old pitfalls.
Like lightning strikes before the storm, the angels fill the room,
The highway calls, I'm out the door, and movin' on too soon.
Like sunrise turns to sunset, any road will do,
Altoona down to Staunton, Virginia skies are blue.
A friendly smile, a kind word, a mountain roadside view.
3 crosses on a hillside, the father, son, and you.
Peter, John, and Moses, friendship tried and true,
3 old men with kindred dreams, will sing their songs for you.
Then take off down the road again, and go their separate ways,
Soon come back together, for a long and happy stay.
Looking for direction, reaching for the stars,
Wearin' out more guitar strings, burnin' up more cars.
As tears roll from those eyes so blue, they enjoy that perfect view,
Peter, John and Moses sing one more song for you.
Weave a tale and strum a tune, and then their gone to soon,
Peter, John and Moses, give their hearts to you.
Conversation With an Artist
(Painting By: Dot Bunn)
Paint me a picture of a leather tan sailor,with eyes that are mellow and blue.
Standin' on land, with his eyes out to the ocean, Knowing full well his ships overdue.
Well he knows for damn sure that its comin', You see he's been waitin' there everyday for a year.
And tonight while he waitin', for his ship to come sailin',He'll button up his old coat,Right up to his throat. And try not to think about fear.
Chorus
And in the depths of his mind he is thinkin', He's rememberin' and watchin' it all. You look at his eyes, they start twinklin', As he smiles at the things he recalls.
And now sir if you please, know you do it with great ease, Just a sketch of an old cowboy.
With a ten gallon hat, he's skinny not fat, but he's ornery and full of good joy. With his rope on his saddle, and his boots to his knees, and a sixgun right there by his side. His face should be mellow, his expression so strong. He should look like he's plum full of pride.
Chorus
Now we must have a drawing of an old railroad man, with his overalls and his striped railroad hat. w You see he's as much of a hero to me, As the man with the ten gallon hat. Now he must be as mellow as the leather tan sailor but I don't see the ocean in his eyes. As he pulls for the whistle, he sees sagebrush and thistle, and cinders being thrown through the sky.
Chorus
And now sir let me see how you're coming, with all these visions that I've described from my soul. Well they all look like me Lord, that's kind of funny But why, I'd like to know.
And in the depths of his mind he is thinkin',
He's rememberin' and watchin' it all.
You look at his eyes, they start twinklin',
as he smiles at the things he recalls.
Standin' on land, with his eyes out to the ocean, Knowing full well his ships overdue.
Well he knows for damn sure that its comin', You see he's been waitin' there everyday for a year.
And tonight while he waitin', for his ship to come sailin',He'll button up his old coat,Right up to his throat. And try not to think about fear.
Chorus
And in the depths of his mind he is thinkin', He's rememberin' and watchin' it all. You look at his eyes, they start twinklin', As he smiles at the things he recalls.
And now sir if you please, know you do it with great ease, Just a sketch of an old cowboy.
With a ten gallon hat, he's skinny not fat, but he's ornery and full of good joy. With his rope on his saddle, and his boots to his knees, and a sixgun right there by his side. His face should be mellow, his expression so strong. He should look like he's plum full of pride.
Chorus
Now we must have a drawing of an old railroad man, with his overalls and his striped railroad hat. w You see he's as much of a hero to me, As the man with the ten gallon hat. Now he must be as mellow as the leather tan sailor but I don't see the ocean in his eyes. As he pulls for the whistle, he sees sagebrush and thistle, and cinders being thrown through the sky.
Chorus
And now sir let me see how you're coming, with all these visions that I've described from my soul. Well they all look like me Lord, that's kind of funny But why, I'd like to know.
And in the depths of his mind he is thinkin',
He's rememberin' and watchin' it all.
You look at his eyes, they start twinklin',
as he smiles at the things he recalls.
ROOM 333, MOTEL 6, ALTOONA, PA
August 20, 2015
5:00pm
He stood there in the treeline, as the car went sailing by,
I saw him waving at me, no teardrops in his eye.
No one even noticed, no one except for me,
He walked into the forest, I knew that he was free.
He never knew what homesick was, never missed a thing,
Met his fears with happiness, just knew he had to sing.
A dream as big as Heaven, a gift can't be denied,
Thank them all for listening, take that magic carpet ride.
He wandered through the midnight sun, his dream kept movin on,
How many miles till he was done, there's always one more song.
Friends and lovers come and go, the tears fall from their eyes,
Worn out hearts and shattered souls, he'll take that moonlite ride.
I stood there in the treeline, as the car went sailing by,
I waved my weathered hand at him, not a teardrop in my eye.
No one even noticed, no one except for him.
I walked into the forest, free until the end.
I saw him waving at me, no teardrops in his eye.
No one even noticed, no one except for me,
He walked into the forest, I knew that he was free.
He never knew what homesick was, never missed a thing,
Met his fears with happiness, just knew he had to sing.
A dream as big as Heaven, a gift can't be denied,
Thank them all for listening, take that magic carpet ride.
He wandered through the midnight sun, his dream kept movin on,
How many miles till he was done, there's always one more song.
Friends and lovers come and go, the tears fall from their eyes,
Worn out hearts and shattered souls, he'll take that moonlite ride.
I stood there in the treeline, as the car went sailing by,
I waved my weathered hand at him, not a teardrop in my eye.
No one even noticed, no one except for him.
I walked into the forest, free until the end.
The Hair Poem
Heath, Massachusetts - April 1978
I lost hair in High School, In college I lost more.
and when I was married, I lost hair for sure.
I wear this big hat, to hold the hair on my head,
but when I wake up, I find hair in my bed.
I lost hair in the barbershop, I lost hair in the store,
and if I stayed in your house, you'd find hair in your floor.
Right now while you're watchin', I'm losin' some more,
look 'round my feet, you'll see hair by the score.
I lost hair in church, in the offering plate,
I've lost so much hair in my life, that it's made me lose weight.
Once I got mad and had it all curled,
thought I'd be more attractive to all the girls.
But that didn't work, it really fell out,
and now it's real thin, and as for how long it will last well I have my doubts.
As you can see it's almost all gone,
and now you know why I grow the rest of it so long.
It's goodbye to Brill Cream, and all that hair care,
you don't need that stuff when you lose all your hair.
Please turn these lights clear down on dim,
or they will be blinded from my shiny skin.
Goodbye to the hair that was once on my head,
I saved some in a shoebox and hid it under my bed.
And when it's dark and I'm all alone,
I'll take a little out and glue it right on,
this is the end now, it's finally all gone.
and when I was married, I lost hair for sure.
I wear this big hat, to hold the hair on my head,
but when I wake up, I find hair in my bed.
I lost hair in the barbershop, I lost hair in the store,
and if I stayed in your house, you'd find hair in your floor.
Right now while you're watchin', I'm losin' some more,
look 'round my feet, you'll see hair by the score.
I lost hair in church, in the offering plate,
I've lost so much hair in my life, that it's made me lose weight.
Once I got mad and had it all curled,
thought I'd be more attractive to all the girls.
But that didn't work, it really fell out,
and now it's real thin, and as for how long it will last well I have my doubts.
As you can see it's almost all gone,
and now you know why I grow the rest of it so long.
It's goodbye to Brill Cream, and all that hair care,
you don't need that stuff when you lose all your hair.
Please turn these lights clear down on dim,
or they will be blinded from my shiny skin.
Goodbye to the hair that was once on my head,
I saved some in a shoebox and hid it under my bed.
And when it's dark and I'm all alone,
I'll take a little out and glue it right on,
this is the end now, it's finally all gone.
Tummy Tuck
Have a tuck put in your tummy, and a tuck put in your rear,
have 'em give you a brand new navel, tie your chin behind your ear.
Take the wrinkles on your elbow, put them underneath your arm,
take the fat around your ankles, run it off at the fat farm.
Tie your chest up to your shoulders, have them fix your broken nose,
take the wrinkles on your forehead, hide them in between your toes.
Leave a note upon the table, that you've finally left by-gum,
to get some brand new dentures, for the same ol' wagging tongue.
When it is finally over, what are you gonna do?
You'll still have to put your corney feet, in orthopedic shoes.
What about those veins, will you have them dyed and tanned?
and with crippling arthritis, how will you keep your man?
Of all the stories ever told, none could be so true,
that's the story of undying love, between your old man and you.
He knew when you were first his bride, that you would not stay young,
and that he too would lose his shape, when at last his fling was flung.
have 'em give you a brand new navel, tie your chin behind your ear.
Take the wrinkles on your elbow, put them underneath your arm,
take the fat around your ankles, run it off at the fat farm.
Tie your chest up to your shoulders, have them fix your broken nose,
take the wrinkles on your forehead, hide them in between your toes.
Leave a note upon the table, that you've finally left by-gum,
to get some brand new dentures, for the same ol' wagging tongue.
When it is finally over, what are you gonna do?
You'll still have to put your corney feet, in orthopedic shoes.
What about those veins, will you have them dyed and tanned?
and with crippling arthritis, how will you keep your man?
Of all the stories ever told, none could be so true,
that's the story of undying love, between your old man and you.
He knew when you were first his bride, that you would not stay young,
and that he too would lose his shape, when at last his fling was flung.
Come Sit Beside My Fire
Sit down old friend, come sit here by my fire,
tell me where you've been, I can see that you are tired.
I said, "I've traveled 'cross this country, a million miles or more,
could you help me with my boots, my damned old feet are sore."
She said, "talk to me of magic, I've been stuck here for so long,
talk to me about freedom, have you written any new songs?"
I said, "I've seen better days, the dreams are almost gone,
It's warm beside your fire, your hair has grown so long."
She said, " What about the mountains, are they still beautiful in the west?
what about New Mexico, how are things in Eagles' Nest?"
I said, "there's condos in the Rockies now, no one is into folk,
It's all pot and karaoke, a troubadour is just a joke."
She said, "you're looking good, you've gained some weight, you're beard has turned so white,
I know that you are tired, you can sleep in here tonight."
She showed me to a spare room, another night alone,
tomorrow I'll be pullin' out, I've been gone too long.
Her eyes were just like yesterday, her smile was just the same
Lord, I'd love to hold her and hear her call my name.
As I lay there in the night time, and wondered about life,
I recalled the time I left her, instead of making her my wife.
Then the door slipped open, I saw her standing there,
"I heard you coughing Mt John, I brought you some water,"
the light was dancing on her hair.
I saw her moving slowly, as she crossed toward my bed,
her figure there beneath her gown, put dreams inside my head.
"Thank you," I said softly, "You're so pretty standing there,
I've missed your gentle body, I'd love to touch your hair."
Ah, the sun came up, I was alone, trucks were passing by,
it was just another roadside park, with no one by my side.
This dream I've had a million times, I'm still out on this road,
I should have stayed there by her side, so many years ago.
Sit down old friend, come sit beside my fire,
let me help you with your dusty boots, I know that you are tired.
tell me where you've been, I can see that you are tired.
I said, "I've traveled 'cross this country, a million miles or more,
could you help me with my boots, my damned old feet are sore."
She said, "talk to me of magic, I've been stuck here for so long,
talk to me about freedom, have you written any new songs?"
I said, "I've seen better days, the dreams are almost gone,
It's warm beside your fire, your hair has grown so long."
She said, " What about the mountains, are they still beautiful in the west?
what about New Mexico, how are things in Eagles' Nest?"
I said, "there's condos in the Rockies now, no one is into folk,
It's all pot and karaoke, a troubadour is just a joke."
She said, "you're looking good, you've gained some weight, you're beard has turned so white,
I know that you are tired, you can sleep in here tonight."
She showed me to a spare room, another night alone,
tomorrow I'll be pullin' out, I've been gone too long.
Her eyes were just like yesterday, her smile was just the same
Lord, I'd love to hold her and hear her call my name.
As I lay there in the night time, and wondered about life,
I recalled the time I left her, instead of making her my wife.
Then the door slipped open, I saw her standing there,
"I heard you coughing Mt John, I brought you some water,"
the light was dancing on her hair.
I saw her moving slowly, as she crossed toward my bed,
her figure there beneath her gown, put dreams inside my head.
"Thank you," I said softly, "You're so pretty standing there,
I've missed your gentle body, I'd love to touch your hair."
Ah, the sun came up, I was alone, trucks were passing by,
it was just another roadside park, with no one by my side.
This dream I've had a million times, I'm still out on this road,
I should have stayed there by her side, so many years ago.
Sit down old friend, come sit beside my fire,
let me help you with your dusty boots, I know that you are tired.
Mother Promises
Photo By: Brian Hilligoss
There's trouble in the family, mom is reaching 90,
we're all afraid of losing her someday.
We know we shouldn't worry, she'll be going straight to glory,
between Jesus and our dad she'll be okay.
Daddy always told her, he'd be fishin' by the Jordan,
beneath the Tree of Life in the shade.
Waitin' there to hold her, to tell her that he loves her,
these are the promises they made.
I can hear my daddy whistlin', as he's sittin' there a fishin',
knowin' mom is close to comin' home.
There'll be no more lonely nights, and tears to hit her pillow,
'cause mother never more will be alone.
On the shore, on the shore, oh that beautiful shore,
no more sorrow, no more fear, no more pain.
Just lots of love and laughter, up in heaven after,
These are the promises they made.
we're all afraid of losing her someday.
We know we shouldn't worry, she'll be going straight to glory,
between Jesus and our dad she'll be okay.
Daddy always told her, he'd be fishin' by the Jordan,
beneath the Tree of Life in the shade.
Waitin' there to hold her, to tell her that he loves her,
these are the promises they made.
I can hear my daddy whistlin', as he's sittin' there a fishin',
knowin' mom is close to comin' home.
There'll be no more lonely nights, and tears to hit her pillow,
'cause mother never more will be alone.
On the shore, on the shore, oh that beautiful shore,
no more sorrow, no more fear, no more pain.
Just lots of love and laughter, up in heaven after,
These are the promises they made.
CLASS OF '67 HILLIGOSS, BECKWORTH, BOLES
July 7, 2015
I'm standing in one place, while I move in all directions,
I have no answers, for what they're asking me.
I stand here in one spot, searching faces for reaction,
A life of rights and wrongs, as the music flows from me.
You've gone to work each morning, and done what was expected,
knowing you could throw it all away.
You could have grabbed that guitar, chasing dreams with no direction,
you put on your shoes, sang the blues,
Worked your job and came home everyday.
Skipper went to college, then became a soldier,
marched and followed orders till he died.
Dreamin' of a sailboat, movin' slowly through the waters,
waiting for the sunset, while listening to the tide.
Three men grew up together, singing, fishing, flying,
one sang songs, one sold cars, one flew planes.
Each has smiled at stormy weather, followed life right to the letter,
laughed and cried and seen many sunny days...
I have no answers, for what they're asking me.
I stand here in one spot, searching faces for reaction,
A life of rights and wrongs, as the music flows from me.
You've gone to work each morning, and done what was expected,
knowing you could throw it all away.
You could have grabbed that guitar, chasing dreams with no direction,
you put on your shoes, sang the blues,
Worked your job and came home everyday.
Skipper went to college, then became a soldier,
marched and followed orders till he died.
Dreamin' of a sailboat, movin' slowly through the waters,
waiting for the sunset, while listening to the tide.
Three men grew up together, singing, fishing, flying,
one sang songs, one sold cars, one flew planes.
Each has smiled at stormy weather, followed life right to the letter,
laughed and cried and seen many sunny days...
His Dream Is Real
One night I was sittin' on the edge of that old bed,
a lot of songs and miles had been whirling 'round my head.
I was talkin' 'bout the children of the 60's,
ah, do you still listen to the Grateful Dead?
Talkin' 'bout the old days, when Hendricks paid his dues,
I've been travelin' down a lot of highways learnin' how to sing the blues.
When I was 37, I was thinkin' I should die,
one night I was reachin' for another broccoli sprout,
and I began to wonder why?
Talkin' 'bout the old days with troubadours and bards,
artists of all kinds with pretty flowers in their yards.
I'd been lookin' at all the condo's that are lined up on the beach,
realizin' they go on forever now, as far as the eye can reach.
Knowin' you can't drink anymore and drugs are out of style, hell you're wonderin' how far you'll go before you freak out from the miles.
I was reachin' for a joint back in 1986,
I was thinkin' it might help the drive, and hopin' it don't make me sick.
Lookin' at all the tourists with all their big cars, kids and dogs,
hell we're all buyin' Nike tennis shoes now, while we're throwin' out our clogs
Honey you're goin' down to buy brasseries again,
while you're paintin' up your face.
While the damned old disco's screamin' in your ears,
instead of leather and lace.
You know the clouds have painted pictures this night out on the road,
While Don McLean sang "Vincent" while I was drivin' high and stoned.
I was reachin' for the answers to the questions that I have,
and I realized people's dreams were gone and it began to make me mad.
Well is there anybody out there listenin' to the songs that I sing,
or have the flowers that you brought tonight begun their withering.
And as you're going home tonight and you think of how you feel,
you can say you heard an old troubadour that still believes his dream is real.
You can say you heard a troubadour that believes his dream is real.
a lot of songs and miles had been whirling 'round my head.
I was talkin' 'bout the children of the 60's,
ah, do you still listen to the Grateful Dead?
Talkin' 'bout the old days, when Hendricks paid his dues,
I've been travelin' down a lot of highways learnin' how to sing the blues.
When I was 37, I was thinkin' I should die,
one night I was reachin' for another broccoli sprout,
and I began to wonder why?
Talkin' 'bout the old days with troubadours and bards,
artists of all kinds with pretty flowers in their yards.
I'd been lookin' at all the condo's that are lined up on the beach,
realizin' they go on forever now, as far as the eye can reach.
Knowin' you can't drink anymore and drugs are out of style, hell you're wonderin' how far you'll go before you freak out from the miles.
I was reachin' for a joint back in 1986,
I was thinkin' it might help the drive, and hopin' it don't make me sick.
Lookin' at all the tourists with all their big cars, kids and dogs,
hell we're all buyin' Nike tennis shoes now, while we're throwin' out our clogs
Honey you're goin' down to buy brasseries again,
while you're paintin' up your face.
While the damned old disco's screamin' in your ears,
instead of leather and lace.
You know the clouds have painted pictures this night out on the road,
While Don McLean sang "Vincent" while I was drivin' high and stoned.
I was reachin' for the answers to the questions that I have,
and I realized people's dreams were gone and it began to make me mad.
Well is there anybody out there listenin' to the songs that I sing,
or have the flowers that you brought tonight begun their withering.
And as you're going home tonight and you think of how you feel,
you can say you heard an old troubadour that still believes his dream is real.
You can say you heard a troubadour that believes his dream is real.
Where Did It Go?
Long hair and love beads and bell bottom pants,
marchin' in DC and takin' a stand.
Sayin' "No" to my dad and all his control,
goodbye to the flag, hello rock and roll.
Burn those brassieres and all those draft cards,
buy a VW bus, get rid of that car.
Go searchin' for vision, let freedom flow,
30 years later, where'd it all go?
Where did it go?
Where did it go?
Your dreams are deserted, your hair's been cut off,
your knees are destroyed from joggin' and walks.
Your prostate's been ruined by bicycle seats,
let's go to the deli for somethin' to eat.
Pull into Starbuck's, my signal's not clear,
my laptop's not working, I just can't think clear.
A Latte and some yogurt and I will be fine,
My pilates aren't working, I just don't have time.
Where did it go?
Where did it go?
One round of golf with the boss and the boys,
I might get that promotion, Oh what a joy.
I'm climbing the ladder now for my kids and my wife,
becoming my father, what a great life.
White curb surrounding my condo and yard,
a trip to the shrink, my life is so hard.
Transfer the payments to the new platinum card,
now that we're smoke-free, lets go to the bar.
Where did it go?
Where did it go?
The angels are laughin' up there in the sky,
our crystals are glowin", give witchcraft a try.
My horoscope's awful, please show me a sign,
Give me some Zanex, I must unwind.
Where did it go? Where did it go?
Where did it go? Where did it go?
marchin' in DC and takin' a stand.
Sayin' "No" to my dad and all his control,
goodbye to the flag, hello rock and roll.
Burn those brassieres and all those draft cards,
buy a VW bus, get rid of that car.
Go searchin' for vision, let freedom flow,
30 years later, where'd it all go?
Where did it go?
Where did it go?
Your dreams are deserted, your hair's been cut off,
your knees are destroyed from joggin' and walks.
Your prostate's been ruined by bicycle seats,
let's go to the deli for somethin' to eat.
Pull into Starbuck's, my signal's not clear,
my laptop's not working, I just can't think clear.
A Latte and some yogurt and I will be fine,
My pilates aren't working, I just don't have time.
Where did it go?
Where did it go?
One round of golf with the boss and the boys,
I might get that promotion, Oh what a joy.
I'm climbing the ladder now for my kids and my wife,
becoming my father, what a great life.
White curb surrounding my condo and yard,
a trip to the shrink, my life is so hard.
Transfer the payments to the new platinum card,
now that we're smoke-free, lets go to the bar.
Where did it go?
Where did it go?
The angels are laughin' up there in the sky,
our crystals are glowin", give witchcraft a try.
My horoscope's awful, please show me a sign,
Give me some Zanex, I must unwind.
Where did it go? Where did it go?
Where did it go? Where did it go?
MOTEL 6, ALTOONA, PA
June 25, 2015
A cheap hotel by the side of a highway, outside of Altoona, PA,
June of 2015, nice and a clean place to stay...
No noise, no bugs, new floors, new bed, still only 50 per night,
good place to wash off the road dust, watch tv, and take time to write.
Tomorrow I'll go see an old friend, one from deep in the past,
We've drunk lots of whisky, sung lots of songs, the years have gone by too fast.
He may be leavin' the earth before I do, but who knows, I might go before you.
Rest assured it just doesn't matter, we've outlived our great expectations,
and certainly enjoyed the view.
Shake all the hands of the needy, take care of the sick and the poor,
Kiss all the babies and ladies, leave a tip on the nightstand for sure.
Leave a smile on the face of the desk clerk, make 'em laugh at the diner next door,
Leave a CD for that pretty young waitress, tip your hat as you go out the door....
June of 2015, nice and a clean place to stay...
No noise, no bugs, new floors, new bed, still only 50 per night,
good place to wash off the road dust, watch tv, and take time to write.
Tomorrow I'll go see an old friend, one from deep in the past,
We've drunk lots of whisky, sung lots of songs, the years have gone by too fast.
He may be leavin' the earth before I do, but who knows, I might go before you.
Rest assured it just doesn't matter, we've outlived our great expectations,
and certainly enjoyed the view.
Shake all the hands of the needy, take care of the sick and the poor,
Kiss all the babies and ladies, leave a tip on the nightstand for sure.
Leave a smile on the face of the desk clerk, make 'em laugh at the diner next door,
Leave a CD for that pretty young waitress, tip your hat as you go out the door....
Grandpa's Prayer
Every morning he gets up to feed the chickens,
milk the cows, slop the hogs and gather eggs.
As he moves along, you hear him calmly prayin',
If you listen, you will hear him gently say:
"Our father, up in heaven, if you're listenin',
please forgive our sinful thoughts and evil ways.
May the lessons that we learn, come from grace that we have earned,
from the hard work and the tending of your strays".
To a business man, these words may have no meaning,
and to a thief, he'll hear these words and he'll run away.
But you know the blessings have been many for this old farmer,
And his happiness has been there all his days.
You know, his family has grown in their devotions,
and the land has grown their bodies, minds, and souls.
And when the sun has set, and the old man lays down in his bed,
if death appears he knows where he will go.
"Our father, up in heaven, if you're listening,
please forgive our sinful thoughts and evil ways.
May the lessons that we learn, come from grace that we have earned,
from the hard work and the tending of your strays.
milk the cows, slop the hogs and gather eggs.
As he moves along, you hear him calmly prayin',
If you listen, you will hear him gently say:
"Our father, up in heaven, if you're listenin',
please forgive our sinful thoughts and evil ways.
May the lessons that we learn, come from grace that we have earned,
from the hard work and the tending of your strays".
To a business man, these words may have no meaning,
and to a thief, he'll hear these words and he'll run away.
But you know the blessings have been many for this old farmer,
And his happiness has been there all his days.
You know, his family has grown in their devotions,
and the land has grown their bodies, minds, and souls.
And when the sun has set, and the old man lays down in his bed,
if death appears he knows where he will go.
"Our father, up in heaven, if you're listening,
please forgive our sinful thoughts and evil ways.
May the lessons that we learn, come from grace that we have earned,
from the hard work and the tending of your strays.
Uncle Sam
The tension is deafening in DC, no matter how far we run,
The doors are constantly closing, PA is loading their guns.
No one is telling the truth Lord, it's time for changing of the guard,
We can't even trust one another, the country is too damn bazaar.
The people are angry and scared, prices have gone thru the roof,
A gallon of gas is up all our ass, we're telling them all that's enough.
Give it all back, take it all back, there must be a safe place to go,
The Islands are calling my name every day, I can't stay, I've got to go.
No money, no home, no sidewalk, no place to dance or sing songs,
No blue skies, just poisonous sunlight, no place for a man to call home.
Kiss me goodbye in the trainyard, stay if you think there's a chance,
or grab up your bundle and follow, we'll move to the beach for the dance.
Dance till the sun comes up dear, the politicians can go fly a kite,
I'm lookin' for that old time feelin', just sleepin' in peace every night.
The doors are constantly closing, PA is loading their guns.
No one is telling the truth Lord, it's time for changing of the guard,
We can't even trust one another, the country is too damn bazaar.
The people are angry and scared, prices have gone thru the roof,
A gallon of gas is up all our ass, we're telling them all that's enough.
Give it all back, take it all back, there must be a safe place to go,
The Islands are calling my name every day, I can't stay, I've got to go.
No money, no home, no sidewalk, no place to dance or sing songs,
No blue skies, just poisonous sunlight, no place for a man to call home.
Kiss me goodbye in the trainyard, stay if you think there's a chance,
or grab up your bundle and follow, we'll move to the beach for the dance.
Dance till the sun comes up dear, the politicians can go fly a kite,
I'm lookin' for that old time feelin', just sleepin' in peace every night.
OLD GYPSY SINGER
There ain't no place left for a crazy, old gypsy,
with nothin' but slow songs to sing.
No more sweet faces, no glasses of whisky, no more big dreams to dream.
Too much for gas, hotels and grass,
no stages, just old worn out jeans.
The life I've been livin', the gift I've been given,
was just in my own mind, it seems.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,
he maketh me lie in green fields.
He restoreth my soul, wherever I go, Knows all the fears that I feel.
No pats on the back, and no encores, no singalongs or shoutin' Amen,
no sweet lips for kissin' at last call, a cold van, a streetlight, the end.
The time was well spent for this dreamer, I know I gave all I could give.
But a five dollar bill, a gallon of gas, just ain't enough anymore to live.
So sweet dreams, ye lads and ye lasses,
the full moon will fill you with dreams.
Hold onto your youth, honesty, and truth,
I leave you with songs you can sing.
with nothin' but slow songs to sing.
No more sweet faces, no glasses of whisky, no more big dreams to dream.
Too much for gas, hotels and grass,
no stages, just old worn out jeans.
The life I've been livin', the gift I've been given,
was just in my own mind, it seems.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,
he maketh me lie in green fields.
He restoreth my soul, wherever I go, Knows all the fears that I feel.
No pats on the back, and no encores, no singalongs or shoutin' Amen,
no sweet lips for kissin' at last call, a cold van, a streetlight, the end.
The time was well spent for this dreamer, I know I gave all I could give.
But a five dollar bill, a gallon of gas, just ain't enough anymore to live.
So sweet dreams, ye lads and ye lasses,
the full moon will fill you with dreams.
Hold onto your youth, honesty, and truth,
I leave you with songs you can sing.
The Farm
Pieces of lace in an old shoe box, Toys in the attic we thought were lost,
Uncle Burl's crutches hang in the shed,
Grandma's old quilt, Grandpa's old bed.
The sound of the pump house, on a cold winter night,
A skunk in the holler, on a full moon night.
Old Shep has gone down, to bring in the cows,
When the milkin' is done, head to the house.
Hot rolls and coffee, strawberry jam,
Grandma's sweet kisses, fresh eggs and ham.
Kiss me you fool, hang on to my hand,
The babies are sleepin', the moon's back again.
The hay's in the meadow, the cows in the barn,
Let sit on the porch swing, and spin us a yarn.
Dance with the fire flies, it's a hot July night,
"John, quit scratchin'," let's all say goodnight.
Uncle Burl's crutches hang in the shed,
Grandma's old quilt, Grandpa's old bed.
The sound of the pump house, on a cold winter night,
A skunk in the holler, on a full moon night.
Old Shep has gone down, to bring in the cows,
When the milkin' is done, head to the house.
Hot rolls and coffee, strawberry jam,
Grandma's sweet kisses, fresh eggs and ham.
Kiss me you fool, hang on to my hand,
The babies are sleepin', the moon's back again.
The hay's in the meadow, the cows in the barn,
Let sit on the porch swing, and spin us a yarn.
Dance with the fire flies, it's a hot July night,
"John, quit scratchin'," let's all say goodnight.
Distant Haunting Call
The Angels laugh so loud each night, at fears that haunt my mind,
Faces from the memories, long since left behind.
Just when i think I've said goodbye, I see them in a dream,
They're all alive and doing fine, they've not forgotten me.
Each time I feel my soul's at rest, happiness shines on my face,
A shadow forms upon the wall, from a dark, foreboding place.
It wakes me from a peaceful sleep, and pulls me back once more,
Then sends me down the hallway, to pace a darkened floor.
You laugh and say "You're crazy man," I smile and turn to go,
A time will come for you dear friend, when you think about your soul.
The spirits of your youthfulness, will call you from your bed,
And take you for a stroll each night, to help you clear your head.
Let the Angels laugh out loud, as the clouds roll back once more,
I see them dancing round and round the campfire by the shore.
Their wings reflect like shining gold, on ancient dwelling walls,
Pictures from a fading past, a distant haunting call.
Faces from the memories, long since left behind.
Just when i think I've said goodbye, I see them in a dream,
They're all alive and doing fine, they've not forgotten me.
Each time I feel my soul's at rest, happiness shines on my face,
A shadow forms upon the wall, from a dark, foreboding place.
It wakes me from a peaceful sleep, and pulls me back once more,
Then sends me down the hallway, to pace a darkened floor.
You laugh and say "You're crazy man," I smile and turn to go,
A time will come for you dear friend, when you think about your soul.
The spirits of your youthfulness, will call you from your bed,
And take you for a stroll each night, to help you clear your head.
Let the Angels laugh out loud, as the clouds roll back once more,
I see them dancing round and round the campfire by the shore.
Their wings reflect like shining gold, on ancient dwelling walls,
Pictures from a fading past, a distant haunting call.
Today's Endeavor
There's a ship out on the ocean, tossed on troubled seas,
A person lost in darkness, stepping out like you and me.
The sails are tight with motion, one wave could take her down,
Some faith with strong devotion, A lighthouse could be found.
Life has many pathways we never see till they appear,
The shadow in the hallway, could mean fighting with great fear.
Or turmoil in the nighttime, as we toss and cry our tears.
Calm the sea, silence me, turn my life around.
Talk to me, set me free, bring peace where love is found.
From the day the ship sets sail, to the moment of the storm,
The sound a child makes at birth, another soul is born.
We live, we love, we laugh and cry. We move on day by day,
And soon the ship sets peacefully, in a quiet sunlit bay.
A person lost in darkness, stepping out like you and me.
The sails are tight with motion, one wave could take her down,
Some faith with strong devotion, A lighthouse could be found.
Life has many pathways we never see till they appear,
The shadow in the hallway, could mean fighting with great fear.
Or turmoil in the nighttime, as we toss and cry our tears.
Calm the sea, silence me, turn my life around.
Talk to me, set me free, bring peace where love is found.
From the day the ship sets sail, to the moment of the storm,
The sound a child makes at birth, another soul is born.
We live, we love, we laugh and cry. We move on day by day,
And soon the ship sets peacefully, in a quiet sunlit bay.
Kitchen Poetry
I wouldn't mind sand in my sheets, if I could be at the beach.
Or snow in my hair, if my head were not bare.
A car with no gas, if I was light in the ass,
Or no shoes for my feet, if I weren't on the street.
I wouldn't mind caring, if I hadn't a care in the world,
or opening a shell, if I needed a pearl.
Or feeling alone, in a room full of friends,
or lost and afraid, as I'm nearing the end.
I can't stop thinking, about what it all means,
so I keep on believing and creating more dreams.
No i cannot stop dreaming, it keeps me alive,
it gives me the will to create and survive.
To give to the ones, who are there and aware,
of stepping out in the darkness, accepting the dare.
Sunshine and crazy, lazy today,
Tomorrow is an adventure away....
Or snow in my hair, if my head were not bare.
A car with no gas, if I was light in the ass,
Or no shoes for my feet, if I weren't on the street.
I wouldn't mind caring, if I hadn't a care in the world,
or opening a shell, if I needed a pearl.
Or feeling alone, in a room full of friends,
or lost and afraid, as I'm nearing the end.
I can't stop thinking, about what it all means,
so I keep on believing and creating more dreams.
No i cannot stop dreaming, it keeps me alive,
it gives me the will to create and survive.
To give to the ones, who are there and aware,
of stepping out in the darkness, accepting the dare.
Sunshine and crazy, lazy today,
Tomorrow is an adventure away....
The Pearl
January 20, 1979 - Wilmington, VT
I've uncovered a pearl, a pearl so rare.
But what can I do with it, I've not a nickel to spare.
I could put it under glass for the world to see,
but what good would that do for anyone but me.
I could polish it up and make it shine like a gem
but it's real beauty lies in the condition it's in.
I could leave it, or sell it, or show it in town.
I could take bids on this beautiful pearl that I found.
Why did I find it, and what should I do?
I holding it now, I think I'll give it to you.
It's real beauty lies in what only you see,
so when you're finished please give it to someone for me.
It's in the shape of a poem, and it sounds like a song.
You must accept it now, for I must move on.
Just remember you could polish it up and make it shine like a gem.
But it's real beauty lies in the condition it's in.
I've uncovered a pearl, a pearl so rare.
But what can I do with it, I've not a nickel to spare.
I could put it under glass for the world to see,
but what good would that do for anyone but me.
I could polish it up and make it shine like a gem
but it's real beauty lies in the condition it's in.
I could leave it, or sell it, or show it in town.
I could take bids on this beautiful pearl that I found.
Why did I find it, and what should I do?
I holding it now, I think I'll give it to you.
It's real beauty lies in what only you see,
so when you're finished please give it to someone for me.
It's in the shape of a poem, and it sounds like a song.
You must accept it now, for I must move on.
Just remember you could polish it up and make it shine like a gem.
But it's real beauty lies in the condition it's in.
The Old Hobo
January, 1986 - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
It was ten below zero, out on the street,
The old man stood shivering, but was still on his feet.
There ain’t too much pleasure in an old hobo’s life,
Memories of drinkin’ and losin’ a son and a wife.
CHORUS
The old man looked up and said,
Where’d it all go Lord? I guess I gave it all up,
For just enough whiskey to fill an old Dixie Cup.
I’m standin’ here shiverin’, it’s so cold tonight,
I’m too old to turn back the pages of life.
Down by the Mission, on a hot July night,
A young cop was workin’, he’d just broke up a fight.
Thinkin’ of his mama there at home all alone,
And how his daddy had left them, so long ago.
Not far from the depot beneath an old street light,
He saw an old hobo dyin’ with a bottle held tight.
As he bent down to listen to the old man’s last words,
A tear filled his eye, cause here’s what he heard.
CHORUS
The old man looked up and said,
Where’d it all go son? I guess I gave it all up,
for just enough whiskey to fill an old Dixie Cup.
Now I’m layin’ here dyin’ beneath my hometown street lights,
Too old to turn back the pages of life.
It was ten below zero, out on the street,
The old man stood shivering, but was still on his feet.
There ain’t too much pleasure in an old hobo’s life,
Memories of drinkin’ and losin’ a son and a wife.
CHORUS
The old man looked up and said,
Where’d it all go Lord? I guess I gave it all up,
For just enough whiskey to fill an old Dixie Cup.
I’m standin’ here shiverin’, it’s so cold tonight,
I’m too old to turn back the pages of life.
Down by the Mission, on a hot July night,
A young cop was workin’, he’d just broke up a fight.
Thinkin’ of his mama there at home all alone,
And how his daddy had left them, so long ago.
Not far from the depot beneath an old street light,
He saw an old hobo dyin’ with a bottle held tight.
As he bent down to listen to the old man’s last words,
A tear filled his eye, cause here’s what he heard.
CHORUS
The old man looked up and said,
Where’d it all go son? I guess I gave it all up,
for just enough whiskey to fill an old Dixie Cup.
Now I’m layin’ here dyin’ beneath my hometown street lights,
Too old to turn back the pages of life.
The Waltz In "G"
Friday, September 25, 1976 - Wrightwood, California
Here in a cabin in the mountains all alone,
It’s raining outside, where is my home?
Why do I wander from pillar to post?
I’m always the guest, and never the host.
Older and colder, each day of my life,
Longing for children, wanting a wife.
The beauty is here, it’s oh, so right,
But loneliness will hit, as I lay down tonight.
I've roamed and I’ve traveled and camped by the streams,
I've seen snow in the mountains, I've heard the Canadian Loon scream.
I've been hustled by hookers, sung songs for the rich,
Stared at by onlookers, Slept in a ditch.
Those who don’t know say, “If I could be you,”
But they couldn’t live through it, It’s nearly torn me in two.
Those who do know say, “Go home now boy,
Before you’re too old to see all of the joy.”
I don’t know where I’m goin’, but I know where I’ve been.
Right now I’m in the mountains, and the rain’s blowin’ in.
I look and I wonder as God washes the land,
Is it for Him I am searching, Or am I just another lost man?
Will I die tonight, as I lay down my head?
Or will I see another sunrise instead?
Here in a cabin in the mountains all alone,
It’s raining outside, where is my home?
Why do I wander from pillar to post?
I’m always the guest, and never the host.
Older and colder, each day of my life,
Longing for children, wanting a wife.
The beauty is here, it’s oh, so right,
But loneliness will hit, as I lay down tonight.
I've roamed and I’ve traveled and camped by the streams,
I've seen snow in the mountains, I've heard the Canadian Loon scream.
I've been hustled by hookers, sung songs for the rich,
Stared at by onlookers, Slept in a ditch.
Those who don’t know say, “If I could be you,”
But they couldn’t live through it, It’s nearly torn me in two.
Those who do know say, “Go home now boy,
Before you’re too old to see all of the joy.”
I don’t know where I’m goin’, but I know where I’ve been.
Right now I’m in the mountains, and the rain’s blowin’ in.
I look and I wonder as God washes the land,
Is it for Him I am searching, Or am I just another lost man?
Will I die tonight, as I lay down my head?
Or will I see another sunrise instead?
Mary's Song
July 11, 1976 - San Diego, California
I was hangin’ by a thread on my journey,
Thought I was as low as I could get.
People puttin’ money on the table.
The lady in my life, she took the bet.
She’d been gone nigh on a month when I met Mary.
I was damn near close to dyin’, when she took my hand.
Mary Grabbed ahold and I’m still livin’
And she wasn’t just another one night stand.
When a man can’t give of everything he has, Lord,
And have it all received by the one he lives for,
Then it’s time to change direction on the journey,
And get started on a new path headed home.
Now the lady that took the bet, she lost her husband,
And she’s livin’ all alone with her pain.
I feel so bad about all of her hurtin’,
But I knew I’d have to die, if I remained...
I was hangin’ by a thread on my journey,
Thought I was as low as I could get.
People puttin’ money on the table.
The lady in my life, she took the bet.
She’d been gone nigh on a month when I met Mary.
I was damn near close to dyin’, when she took my hand.
Mary Grabbed ahold and I’m still livin’
And she wasn’t just another one night stand.
When a man can’t give of everything he has, Lord,
And have it all received by the one he lives for,
Then it’s time to change direction on the journey,
And get started on a new path headed home.
Now the lady that took the bet, she lost her husband,
And she’s livin’ all alone with her pain.
I feel so bad about all of her hurtin’,
But I knew I’d have to die, if I remained...
The Salt Air's Blowin'
October 20, 1976 - Biltmore Hotel, Santa Barbara, California Sunset on a break
The salt air’s blowin’ in from the sea,
And the sun is sinking low.
The clouds have formed a grey blue cast,
Of visions in my soul.
The tide makes music for my ears,
The sand is wet with dew.
The wrinkles on my fevered brow,
Are there from thoughts of you.
My mind wanders back
To thoughts of mountain streams.
Times when I’m home, oh honey,
You don’t know how much that means.
The birds of fall take off to fly,
I see them going to sea.
And I, my dear, am off somewhere,
Singing songs for you and me.
One more night by the ocean side,
Then I’ll come home again,
To sit by the fire and hold you tight,
And tell stories of sailin’ men.
The salt air’s blowin’ in from the sea,
And the sun is sinking low.
The clouds have formed a grey blue cast,
Of visions in my soul.
The tide makes music for my ears,
The sand is wet with dew.
The wrinkles on my fevered brow,
Are there from thoughts of you.
My mind wanders back
To thoughts of mountain streams.
Times when I’m home, oh honey,
You don’t know how much that means.
The birds of fall take off to fly,
I see them going to sea.
And I, my dear, am off somewhere,
Singing songs for you and me.
One more night by the ocean side,
Then I’ll come home again,
To sit by the fire and hold you tight,
And tell stories of sailin’ men.
Yukon Tim
March 1977-Sunshine, Meat, Fish, and Liquor Company
Lyman Martin's old house
I was sittin' down in the desert, swapin' jokes with
a friend of mine, named Bartender Jim.
One night a fellow walked in, that looked just likeErrol Flynn.
And everybody around called him Printin' Press Tim.
I could tell by lookin' by the look in his eye,
he'd been struck by the fever,that had made other men die.
Now I'm the sort, that likes to sit and snort,
sing songs and travel all around.
But Tim is the kind, that dreams of gold mines,
and diggin' holes in the cold Yukon ground.
Not to long ago, he got a letter about gold,
from a friend of his up Alaska way.
He said, "Printin' Press Tim, it's time to trade it all in.
Get yourself a good runnin' truck and a few hundred bucks,
'cause I've already staked out the claim."
Now listen close, I ain't tellin' a joke, It's a true story about a good friend of mine.
And if you think it gets borin',
and you fall asleep and start snorin',
Your gonna miss out on a hell of a find.
Now Tim set down and ordered a drink,
and started talkin' real low and slow.
We all listened and watched, as he pulled out a hand drawn map,
And showed us right where he was fixin' to go.
Way up north, past the Artic Circle,
where few men have ever survived.
An X marked the spot where an old cabin stood,
and not far away was the mark for the gold mine.
An old drunk by the name of Frank Clark said,
"Hell Tim, you'd have to be crazy to go up there,
at 40 below and 75 foot of snow,
In 5 minutes you'd freeze your young, skinnyCalifornia ass."
Tim took a big drink, and shot back a big grin,
and said, "Frank Clark, who gives a shit.
Hell, I'll give it all up and have nothin' left
just to go up there and clear my mind a bit."
He said, "I'm goin' by God.
I've seen enough of hese hot desert nights.
I've got me a dream of diggin' a gold mine down by a stream,
and seein' them Northern Lights.
Where the rivers are frozen clean down to hell,
and the wolves could eat a man whole.
Where there ain't no rattlers, and there ain't no sand,
just snow and plenty of gold.
Where the nights last all winter, and
even though you stand there and shiver,
You can hear a man breathin' for 5 miles away.
Yea, you've gotta have nerve and be
95% insane to want a go up there and stay.
Well, that my friend is Yukon Tim, who gave his Printin' company back to the southern California Banks.
And left the hot desert nightson the first of July,
In an old beat up, 1954, primer gray, Dodge army ambulance.
And I wish him good luck,as I throw down a buck,
And order another cold beer.
And next spring when he returns with money to burn,
We'll probably still be sittin' right here.
He'll tell us his tales, of the kind of jails,
a man can create in his mind.
On a cold Yukon night,when your so full of fright,
That there ain't no gold in your gold mine.
And he'll tell us all of the beginning of fall,
when the darkness covers the land.
and the northern lights,shine down so bright,
on the soul of a lonely, gold mining man.
Well, me and my friend, Old Bartender Jim
both set there and heard that story that night.
We watched "Printin' Press Tim turn into "Yukon Tim"
and then I sang him a song that I knew all about the Northern Lights.
Now, I hope you all listen, as I sing you the tune,
that's always been his request.
'Cause whenever I sing he always remarks,
"Hell, Mountain John I like that one the best.........."
Lyman Martin's old house
I was sittin' down in the desert, swapin' jokes with
a friend of mine, named Bartender Jim.
One night a fellow walked in, that looked just likeErrol Flynn.
And everybody around called him Printin' Press Tim.
I could tell by lookin' by the look in his eye,
he'd been struck by the fever,that had made other men die.
Now I'm the sort, that likes to sit and snort,
sing songs and travel all around.
But Tim is the kind, that dreams of gold mines,
and diggin' holes in the cold Yukon ground.
Not to long ago, he got a letter about gold,
from a friend of his up Alaska way.
He said, "Printin' Press Tim, it's time to trade it all in.
Get yourself a good runnin' truck and a few hundred bucks,
'cause I've already staked out the claim."
Now listen close, I ain't tellin' a joke, It's a true story about a good friend of mine.
And if you think it gets borin',
and you fall asleep and start snorin',
Your gonna miss out on a hell of a find.
Now Tim set down and ordered a drink,
and started talkin' real low and slow.
We all listened and watched, as he pulled out a hand drawn map,
And showed us right where he was fixin' to go.
Way up north, past the Artic Circle,
where few men have ever survived.
An X marked the spot where an old cabin stood,
and not far away was the mark for the gold mine.
An old drunk by the name of Frank Clark said,
"Hell Tim, you'd have to be crazy to go up there,
at 40 below and 75 foot of snow,
In 5 minutes you'd freeze your young, skinnyCalifornia ass."
Tim took a big drink, and shot back a big grin,
and said, "Frank Clark, who gives a shit.
Hell, I'll give it all up and have nothin' left
just to go up there and clear my mind a bit."
He said, "I'm goin' by God.
I've seen enough of hese hot desert nights.
I've got me a dream of diggin' a gold mine down by a stream,
and seein' them Northern Lights.
Where the rivers are frozen clean down to hell,
and the wolves could eat a man whole.
Where there ain't no rattlers, and there ain't no sand,
just snow and plenty of gold.
Where the nights last all winter, and
even though you stand there and shiver,
You can hear a man breathin' for 5 miles away.
Yea, you've gotta have nerve and be
95% insane to want a go up there and stay.
Well, that my friend is Yukon Tim, who gave his Printin' company back to the southern California Banks.
And left the hot desert nightson the first of July,
In an old beat up, 1954, primer gray, Dodge army ambulance.
And I wish him good luck,as I throw down a buck,
And order another cold beer.
And next spring when he returns with money to burn,
We'll probably still be sittin' right here.
He'll tell us his tales, of the kind of jails,
a man can create in his mind.
On a cold Yukon night,when your so full of fright,
That there ain't no gold in your gold mine.
And he'll tell us all of the beginning of fall,
when the darkness covers the land.
and the northern lights,shine down so bright,
on the soul of a lonely, gold mining man.
Well, me and my friend, Old Bartender Jim
both set there and heard that story that night.
We watched "Printin' Press Tim turn into "Yukon Tim"
and then I sang him a song that I knew all about the Northern Lights.
Now, I hope you all listen, as I sing you the tune,
that's always been his request.
'Cause whenever I sing he always remarks,
"Hell, Mountain John I like that one the best.........."
The Gift
August 31, 1976 - San Fernando Valle, LA, California
I listen and listen, to song after song,
But I never quite find it, it’s just not the right one.
Again and again,I write down new words,
And as I read them all back, they seem so absurd.
Why Mother? Why?
did you give this to me?
This gift that brings searching,
for my soul to be free?
As far back as I know,
there’s been awareness of pain,
and conflicting joy,
that hurts in my brain.
I wish I could stop,
I’d like to sit down.
But they keep on applauding,
to hear one more round.
Row, row, row your boat,
gently down the stream,
Please take me away,
so I can cry and not sing...
I listen and listen, to song after song,
But I never quite find it, it’s just not the right one.
Again and again,I write down new words,
And as I read them all back, they seem so absurd.
Why Mother? Why?
did you give this to me?
This gift that brings searching,
for my soul to be free?
As far back as I know,
there’s been awareness of pain,
and conflicting joy,
that hurts in my brain.
I wish I could stop,
I’d like to sit down.
But they keep on applauding,
to hear one more round.
Row, row, row your boat,
gently down the stream,
Please take me away,
so I can cry and not sing...
Angels in the Snow
January 15, 1981-Pine Motel, Irwin,PA Room19
Mountain John
In a small bar, at a motel
in the winter in PA.
While relaxing by a fire
I heard a lady say.
"Lay down and move your arms and legs
and let your body flow.
As you move them up and down
you're making angels in the snow."
I turned and looked into her eyes
and thought of what she said.
As I looked I realized her cheeks
turned blushing red.
She went on, she did not stop
her arms were in the air.
I watched.
She looked just like a child
no painting could compare.
She said, "I wish I were a poet
and I could sit and write a poem
of the feelings I've expressed to you tonight."
I though, I wish I were an artist
and I could sit and draw a picture
of the magic that I just turned and saw.
A lady full of beauty,
and no one really knows
just how many years it's been
since she made angels in the snow.
As I left the bar that night
I saw her standing there.
Her face was almost ageless,
there were snowflakes in her hair
She really is a poet
and I will tell her so,
For when I turned to say goodnight,
I saw an angel in the snow.
Mountain John
In a small bar, at a motel
in the winter in PA.
While relaxing by a fire
I heard a lady say.
"Lay down and move your arms and legs
and let your body flow.
As you move them up and down
you're making angels in the snow."
I turned and looked into her eyes
and thought of what she said.
As I looked I realized her cheeks
turned blushing red.
She went on, she did not stop
her arms were in the air.
I watched.
She looked just like a child
no painting could compare.
She said, "I wish I were a poet
and I could sit and write a poem
of the feelings I've expressed to you tonight."
I though, I wish I were an artist
and I could sit and draw a picture
of the magic that I just turned and saw.
A lady full of beauty,
and no one really knows
just how many years it's been
since she made angels in the snow.
As I left the bar that night
I saw her standing there.
Her face was almost ageless,
there were snowflakes in her hair
She really is a poet
and I will tell her so,
For when I turned to say goodnight,
I saw an angel in the snow.
