You Need a Band
Songs written and recorded in 2011.
Songs:
- Some Rivers
- You Need a Band
- Some Kind of Heart
- Everything Else
- How Were We to Know
- Let's Talk About Anything
- Out of New Orleans
- This is what a Goodbye Looks Like
- The Thing About Space
- Orange Peel Sailboat
- Through the Night
- Love I Surrender
Some Rivers
I first recorded this as a ballad. Next, tried it as a blues. It only worked for me this way...and then the whole thing got out of control.
So, some years you behind you while you were out searching around and you’ve started over more times than you care to confess/Sometimes there was enough money and sometimes there was less/These things will always be so./Some rivers overflow/Some rivers empty to the sea/And we all go winding down/ So you’ve spent some time lonely as you could be/Once upon a time you were so happy you could barely breathe/You’ve down and out more times than you can tell/Sure good luck has come your way a time or two as well/Some rivers overflow/Some rivers empty to the sea/And we all go winding down/Sometimes you don’t know if you should laugh or cry/Sometime you don’t know if you should stay or go/Sometimes it’s hard to tell the reason why/And we all go winding down
You Need a Band
I kept this one simple...because it needs a band to finish it off.
I don’t know if it gets any better, any better with time/I heard told that the sooner you let her, the sooner you’ll feel fine/I got a friend who is always saying, he was born a day behind/I’d catch him up but I think he’s only playing/will someone show me my own place in line/When you get off on the wrong foot, you need a band to count you in again/When you can’t seem to find the key and no one’s got your harmony, you need a band to back you up/ You need a band to set you right/ You need a band to bring you back you back around/You need a band to take you home.
Some Kind of Heart
This one started on the uke so it has that "old-timey" feel. I wrote some "moon/june/spoon" lyrics that I thought fit. I like the feel of this version.
Once upon a time, I sang all my love songs to you/I sang about how lonely I was without you/I sang about the hundred different ways you found to make me feel blue/I sang about love like it was something I knew/What I don’t know about love could fill a book or two darlin’/To mean it, you gotta feel it and to feel it, you have to have some kind of heart/I don’t think you do/ Once upon a time, I sang about our love that could be if only you could find it in your heart to love me/I sang about the hundred different ways that we’d be happy/I sang about a love that would last endlessly/What I didn’t know about love would fill the deep blue sea darlin’/To mean it, you gotta feel it and to feel it, you have to have some kind of heart/do you truly/What I don’t know about love would fill the sea so blue darlin’/To mean it, you gotta feel it and to feel it, you have to have some kind of heart/I hope you do.
Everything Else
This is in G...simple with an ending just for kicks.
I love you and you love me, everything else is gonna be what it be, oh baby mmm /You love me, I love you, everything else gonna do what it do, oh baby/Sun in the day, stars art night, everything else gonna be alright, oh baby/Stars at night, sun in the day, everything else gonna be okay, oh baby /Living today, everything crazy, what you gonna do but call me baby /You love me, I love you, everything else gonna do what it do, oh baby
How Were We to Know
This a walking song. I wrote the lyric on a walk on the beach in N.C.
We built our house on shifting sand/At the time it did not seem so/We built our house on shifting sand/How were we to know it then/We were kids out playing in the foam and the strand/How were we to know?
We tried to hold to what we had gained but the sea will reclaim its own/We tried to hold to what we had gained like a fist full of sand in a trembling hand that could not let go again/How were we to know?
The foolishness surrounding us only seems like the sea because it never seems to end/You better roll up your pant legs before you go out walking or your trousers are bound to get wet again/and your fishermen cannot predict the change in the wind/and your boats have drifted too far away for to swim/and the evening tide is about to come in/and the oil on the water is incredibly thin/What luck's put on your line today you'll soon you'd thrown back in/and you can't sing it until you've been it and man I have been/How were we to know?/How were we to know?
Wouldn't I gve my soul right now for a writing pen to draft a quick note to Mr. Bob Dylan to thank him for predicting what had already been/while the crabs on the beach are sideways scuttlin'/You got four good horses ready and just rearing to go/Isn't there a last trumpet somewhere that you're running late to blow?/How were we to know?/How were we to know?
We built our house on shifting sand/At the time it did not seem so/We built our house on shifting sand/How were we to know it then/We were kinds out playing in the foam and the strand/How were we to know?
We tried to hold to what we had gained but the sea will reclaim its own/We tried to hold to what we had gained like a fist full of sand in a trembling hand that could not let go again/How were we to know?
The foolishness surrounding us only seems like the sea because it never seems to end/You better roll up your pant legs before you go out walking or your trousers are bound to get wet again/and your fishermen cannot predict the change in the wind/and your boats have drifted too far away for to swim/and the evening tide is about to come in/and the oil on the water is incredibly thin/What luck's put on your line today you'll soon you'd thrown back in/and you can't sing it until you've been it and man I have been/How were we to know?/How were we to know?
Wouldn't I gve my soul right now for a writing pen to draft a quick note to Mr. Bob Dylan to thank him for predicting what had already been/while the crabs on the beach are sideways scuttlin'/You got four good horses ready and just rearing to go/Isn't there a last trumpet somewhere that you're running late to blow?/How were we to know?/How were we to know?
We built our house on shifting sand/At the time it did not seem so/We built our house on shifting sand/How were we to know it then/We were kinds out playing in the foam and the strand/How were we to know?
Let's Talk About Anything
Song written September 10th, 2011 simply to change the conversation. This one is for Brad who was there.
Let’s talk about anything except for planes and flames buildings/Isn’t it a sunny day today/This kind of day reminds me of when I a kid about five or six /I was walking along/ There were birds in the sky/I was singing a song I had learned in school/I don’t remember how it goes/Years would pass/I’d hear a Bob Marley song that made me feel the same way/Could there be love?/Let’s talk about anything except dust and ash and pain/Remember how your first crush made you feel/You couldn’t stop thinking about the girl/You were way to shy to tell her how she made you feel/So you practiced your line until it was just right/The very next day when she walked right by, the words had flown away/Many years later in a Bob Marley song, you heard the perfect thing to say/Could there be love?/Believe me when I tell you, I would not bring you down/If you need a shoulder to cry on, just say/And I don’t need to tell you, I would not cause you pain/If you’re in need of conversation, let’s talk about anything. Let’s talk about anything except where you were that day/Could there be love?
Out of New Orleans
An acoustic folk song...not much more to say about this one.
I went to the banker looking for an answer.
He said, “Life is for the taking.”
I said, “Can I have your money please?”
He said, “Go and write a better song.”
I said, “I’ll be on my way then.”
He said, “Before thee judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.”
I went to see my girl, looking for some comfort.
She said, “Let’s sit and talk of life and death and what comes in between.”
I said, “I came here looking for your love.”
She said, “You’d best be on your way then and before the judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.”
I went to the doctor looking for a remedy.
He said, “Tell me where you’ve been, and where you’ve stayed and who you’ve seen.”
I said, “Doctor, won’t you tell me what’s your best advice then?”
He said, “Before the judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.”
My entire life’s been lived West of the Mississippi and I’m not much for traveling and I don’t need a change of scene, but all these signs and wonders pointed to the highway. So, I collected up my bags and headed East for New Orleans.
I went to the fortune teller. She laid her cards out on the table.
She said, “Never trust a money lender who would offer advice for free and beware of girls who'd forsake love for their own philosophy and 'Physician, heal thyself’ is always your bests remedy.”
“Please” I said. “Please, tell me more. What’s really going on here? I feel so overwhelmed. Can you tell me what this means?”
She said, “All will be revealed in time. There’s no need for alarm here.
But, before the judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.”
Before the judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.
He said, “Life is for the taking.”
I said, “Can I have your money please?”
He said, “Go and write a better song.”
I said, “I’ll be on my way then.”
He said, “Before thee judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.”
I went to see my girl, looking for some comfort.
She said, “Let’s sit and talk of life and death and what comes in between.”
I said, “I came here looking for your love.”
She said, “You’d best be on your way then and before the judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.”
I went to the doctor looking for a remedy.
He said, “Tell me where you’ve been, and where you’ve stayed and who you’ve seen.”
I said, “Doctor, won’t you tell me what’s your best advice then?”
He said, “Before the judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.”
My entire life’s been lived West of the Mississippi and I’m not much for traveling and I don’t need a change of scene, but all these signs and wonders pointed to the highway. So, I collected up my bags and headed East for New Orleans.
I went to the fortune teller. She laid her cards out on the table.
She said, “Never trust a money lender who would offer advice for free and beware of girls who'd forsake love for their own philosophy and 'Physician, heal thyself’ is always your bests remedy.”
“Please” I said. “Please, tell me more. What’s really going on here? I feel so overwhelmed. Can you tell me what this means?”
She said, “All will be revealed in time. There’s no need for alarm here.
But, before the judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.”
Before the judgement day, you’d best be out of New Orleans.
This is What a Goodbye Looks Like
When I sit down to write a sad country song...well, here you go. Of course, train sounds were mandatory. This one needs somebody in Nashville to do it up.
When I sit down to write a sad country song...well, here you go. Of course, train sounds were mandatory. This one needs somebody in Nashville to do it up.
This must be the season when everybody’s leaving/They’re waiving from a distance They’re fading away / There’ll be no more calls or letters / I might as well forget her /That’s just me feeling sorry for myself /It’s been a bad, bad day.
This is what a goodbye looks like, taillights in the morning light, her packing her bags in the morning light, her rusted out pick up driving away. This is what a goodbye looks like, a stack of records in the corner she left behind, some Cash and Hendrix and “Blue Eyes Crying” I know I’ll never play again, but at the same time, I know I’ll never give them away.
This must be the scene when the tramp he gets heart broken just like in those old movies, I’m shuffling away/Tell me where’s my sunset when I really need it/Someone hold the credits/ I can’t stand the light of day.
This is what a goodbye looks like, taillights in the morning light, her packing her bags in the morning light, her rusted out pick up driving away. This is what a goodbye looks like, a stack of records in the corner she left behind, some Cash and Hendrix and “Blue Eyes Crying” I know I’ll never play again, but at the same time, I know I’ll never give them away.
And oh, it’s a Thursday and I’m breathing in and it’s all I can do to breathe out again.
This must be the reason everybody’s leaving/They’re riding out on Harleys/They’re jumping trains/They’re looking to find freedom/They’re looking for salvation/If I were a better man, maybe she would have stayed.
This is what a goodbye looks like, taillights in the morning light, her packing her bags in the morning light, her rusted out pick up driving away. This is what a goodbye looks like, a stack of records in the corner she left behind, some Cash and Hendrix and “Blue Eyes Crying” I know I’ll never play again, but at the same time, I know I’ll never give them away.
This must be the season when everybody’s leaving/They’re waiving from a distance They’re fading away / There’ll be no more calls or letters / I might as well forget her /That’s just me feeling sorry for myself /It’s been a bad, bad day.
This is what a goodbye looks like, taillights in the morning light, her packing her bags in the morning light, her rusted out pick up driving away. This is what a goodbye looks like, a stack of records in the corner she left behind, some Cash and Hendrix and “Blue Eyes Crying” I know I’ll never play again, but at the same time, I know I’ll never give them away.
This must be the scene when the tramp he gets heart broken just like in those old movies, I’m shuffling away/Tell me where’s my sunset when I really need it/Someone hold the credits/ I can’t stand the light of day.
This is what a goodbye looks like, taillights in the morning light, her packing her bags in the morning light, her rusted out pick up driving away. This is what a goodbye looks like, a stack of records in the corner she left behind, some Cash and Hendrix and “Blue Eyes Crying” I know I’ll never play again, but at the same time, I know I’ll never give them away.
And oh, it’s a Thursday and I’m breathing in and it’s all I can do to breathe out again.
This must be the reason everybody’s leaving/They’re riding out on Harleys/They’re jumping trains/They’re looking to find freedom/They’re looking for salvation/If I were a better man, maybe she would have stayed.
This is what a goodbye looks like, taillights in the morning light, her packing her bags in the morning light, her rusted out pick up driving away. This is what a goodbye looks like, a stack of records in the corner she left behind, some Cash and Hendrix and “Blue Eyes Crying” I know I’ll never play again, but at the same time, I know I’ll never give them away.
The Thing About Space
I woke up with the first verse done in my head- so when that happens, you have to pay attention and record the rest. I took it to church for the chorus. Dave B. kindly added a very nice bass so I included this one is on the "Collaborations" page also.
I woke up with the first verse done in my head- so when that happens, you have to pay attention and record the rest. I took it to church for the chorus. Dave B. kindly added a very nice bass so I included this one is on the "Collaborations" page also.
The thing about space is there’s nothing to hold on to/The thing about floating is your feet don’t touch the ground/The thing about love is there’s a reason they call if falling/The hard thing t to know is if you’re falling up or down.
The thing about space, there’s nothing there to stop your falling/The thing about space is the thing about love.
The thing about space is there’s no sense of direction/The thing about floating is you can’t tell if you’re upside down/The thing about love is when you’re head over heels, the hard thing to know is ho the landing will feel.
The thing about space, there’s nothing there to stop your falling/The thing about space is the thing about love.
The thing about space is there’s no one there to catch you if you fall/The thing about floating is you may forget you’re floating at all/The thing about love is you know it when you’re in it. The hard thing to know is gravity will pull you down in a minute.
The thing about space, there’s nothing there to stop your falling/The thing about space is the thing about love.
The thing about space, there’s nothing there to stop your falling/The thing about space is the thing about love.
The thing about space is there’s no sense of direction/The thing about floating is you can’t tell if you’re upside down/The thing about love is when you’re head over heels, the hard thing to know is ho the landing will feel.
The thing about space, there’s nothing there to stop your falling/The thing about space is the thing about love.
The thing about space is there’s no one there to catch you if you fall/The thing about floating is you may forget you’re floating at all/The thing about love is you know it when you’re in it. The hard thing to know is gravity will pull you down in a minute.
The thing about space, there’s nothing there to stop your falling/The thing about space is the thing about love.
Orange Peel Sailboat
Because a website needs a theme song...
Because a website needs a theme song...
I got a orange peel sailboat/I made it on my own from my imagination/It’s totally home grown/Sail across the blue water into the setting sun on my orange peel sailboat into the setting sun on my orange peel sailboat when my work day’s done/Gonna bring my ukulele, harmonica too/You bring your guitars/We’ll write a song or two/And if you’re thinking we’ll find romance, well you’re probably right because the orange peel sailboat is open up all night/I got a orange peel sailboat/I made it on my own from my imagination/It’s totally home grown/Sail across the blue water into the setting sun on my orange peel sailboat when my work day’s done.
Through the Night
An idea..perhaps I will write more verses on this one.
It's true that we outgrow the things that once we could not live without/Eventually we gain in strength and confidence replaces doubt/I've been told a flower unfolds in its own time/It's known that the dark will fade before the light of day/On this Earth we pray to find our way through the night.
Love, I Surrender
I went to Carlos Santana in concert and wrote this the next day.
Many say life is a bitter pill to swallow/And it’s true I’ve been washing it down that way for years/Lately I’ve come to question those who would have me follow their hard direction to forsake love for fear/What else can I do/Love, I surrender.
Sometimes skies above are cloudy/Sometimes clouds will clear/Tell me, am I the only one around here who feels like love hasn’t rained down here for years/What else can I do/Love, I surrender.
Many’s the night that the midnight lamp has been left burning/Many’s the book on the table been left open to those same old pages/Many’s the time that I’ve read through those old stories/Has there been anything really learned down through these long ages/What else can I do/Love, I surrender.
Sometimes skies above are cloudy/Sometimes clouds will clear/Tell me, am I the only one around here who feels like love hasn’t rained down here for years/What else can I do/Love, I surrender.
Many’s the night that the midnight lamp has been left burning/Many’s the book on the table been left open to those same old pages/Many’s the time that I’ve read through those old stories/Has there been anything really learned down through these long ages/What else can I do/Love, I surrender.