Lyrics

from Know the Rain Here (2004)

Karma
(Berlin, January 2002)

I spent November trying to make my heart hard
Trying to cover up the tracks you left in my backyard
December felt like trying to slip an onion back into skin
And I hate myself for walking out
The way I hated you for walking in

I’ve been pushing through a lifetime of bad karma
For what I did when I was out in California
I may not know my bad from good but I know thick ends up thin
And I hate myself for walking out
The way I hated you for walking in

I spent November trying to make my heart hard
My hands are tired of the feel of wood and steel and my guitar
They want the touch of softer things, your skin, your hair, your skin
And they hate me now for walking out
The way I hated you for walking in

And now I’ve got nothing left, and there’s nothing I got to be
And if I see you everywhere, it’s cause you’re nowhere to be seen
We flew our love so high it came to pieces in the wind
And I hate myself for walking out
The way I hated you for walking in

Jackhammer
(Utah, December 1997)

Six a.m. stumbled through the freeze and into bed
Caught me sleeping with a past I thought I’d left for dead
Snowed me underneath a continent, a powder keg
That lit the sun a winter red

Felt the wind lick like a whisper over hands and hair
Felt the cold drop like a ball and hit the bottom stair
Will you give me eyes that see the things that no one knows are there
If I promise not to stare?

I caught myself before I dropped the day, lost the page
I lost it all inside a memory that’d never been
I looked for someplace I could lay away, stay away
Someplace warm where when you die you live again

In a click I caught the breath of ice and locked the door
Felt the rush and hit the deck and took a new shape on the floor
Rolled my soul into a ball with fear inside the core
Someone somewhere nevermore

Pieces of archangel floating on the morning air
Left me looking, man, you couldn’t understand if you weren’t there
I got eyes and started seeing things you don’t see anywhere
And I couldn’t help but stare

I caught myself before I dropped the day, lost the page
I lost everything, memories that had never been
I looked for someplace I could lay away, stay away
Someplace warm where when you die you live again

Christ, it left me just as quick as it had come to me
Swung over me in darkness like a hammer, like belief
Give me eyes so I can see the things that no one else can see
I want to see what you can see

A Slap in the Face
(New Jersey, April 2004)

Clumsy as a pornstar kiss we hit the heart of it
Left me in a mess of breath without a start of it
Morning was a slap in the face with a hard hand
Leaving was a rapid erase--I’m on my guard again
Looks like it’s catching up to me

Once upon a time she was mine--I should’ve asked her
What happens to the things that don’t live happily after
The kind of thought that catches up beneath the underpass
Hits you where it used to hurt, but it’s just broken glass
Looks like it’s catching up to me

This place is sick with smoke and dreams that can’t get past the roof
Like angeles who broke their wings on something 100 proof
All the things we used to keep inside are cracked and battered now
We’re old--I guess it’s shit like this that makes us matter now
Looks like it's catching up to me

Dublin 1
(Jersey, August 2003)

What have you done in Dublin 1?
Has something new begun?

Where did you lay your head?
Where did you lay your head?

What did you do in Dublin 2?
With everything you knew?

Where did you lay your head?
Where did you lay your head?

Under the Oak Tree, Behind the Stone Wall
(Jersey, September 2003)

There was something sweet on the air and I couldn’t name it
I’d long walked out on everything I’d need
On everything I’d need to explain it
Don’t have the words, I left them all
Under the oak tree, behind the stone wall

There was something you used to say and I'll never forget it
Something about a good man being hard to find
Something that could damn me if I let it
Don’t have the patience to stand or to fall
Under the oak tree, behind the stone wall

There was something sweet on the air and I couldn’t shake it
And it was something that you and me used to know real well
Something from way back before we didn’t make it
Just a trick of the breeze, made me recall
Sitting under the oak tree, behind the stone wall

There was nothing like the way that you used to see me
When you’d long given up on everything but us
But I won’t risk a word now that could free me
So that’s where I’m waiting, if you care at all
Meet me under the oak tree, behind the stone wall

Black and Blues
(New Jersey, October 2002)

Can’t sleep on a whiskey pillow, and heaven knows I tried
Can’t wake on a coffee dawn and pray it takes the death out of your eyes
Can’t sail that bourbon street, and heaven knows I tried

The heat down deep divinest for thinning out your blues
Those dreams, they were the finest, but none of them come true

Can’t sweat inside side-walking sheets, and heaven knows I tried
To go back to someone sweet who’ll love me for the thorn that’s in my side

My better angels need it, to keep me high and dry
I’m ankle-deep in gin and secrets and never knowing why

Can’t sleep on a whiskey pillow, and heaven knows I tried
Can’t wake on a coffee dawn and rub away the night and all the nights

My better angels grieving from being black and blue
So I just quit believing in the

Just Like 'Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues'
(Galway, Ireland, July 1998, and Carlsbad, CA; Hays, KS; St. Louis, MO; New Brunswick, NJ, August 1998)

When by day the sun’s choking on a sky of gray
And I’m lucky if I see him melt at evening into Mission Bay
And every face that hears me speak wants to turn away
I get to thinking about you and I wonder if I should have stayed

At a roadside jewelry stand off the beaten track
I saw the cross you’d had tatooed into the small of your back
I wanted to laugh but it stopped me dead in my tracks
I started thinking about you and it almost made me want you back

I hope you got the card I sent, the one in ball-point red
I scrawled it out that week in Kansas I was laid-up in bed
And it may not be true but I meant every word that I said
I get to thinking about you and it almost makes me lose my head

I crawled through Missouri saddled heavy with your memory
Crying on the hood of the car just like a banshee scream
And in St. Louis, where the air was thick with you, I couldn’t breathe
I started thinking about you and wondering if you think about me

When I pulled into Jersey it’s like nothing really stayed behind
And whatever I was after is the only thing I didn’t find
And baby I’m not saying we should hook up and try to make up for lost time
But I get to thinking about you and it almost makes me change my mind

Locket
(New Jersey, August 2004)

Leelee got a locket full of llello
Forgot to call to say she’s on the way
Caught me in a fifth of doubleday
Guess I got no right to have a say

Daylight comes on a desert dry tongue and she don’t want to go home
Daylight comes, daylight comes

Leelee got a locket full of llello
And I don’t want to know just how she pay
But I can swallow pride just like a k.o.
Anything to make her make her stay

Daylight comes on a double-dutch tongue and she don’t want to go home
Daylight comes, daylight comes

Leelee got a locket full of llello
Says that she can stop it any day
But lately she been dropping what she weigh
And she won’t hear a thing you got to say

Daylight comes with a desert dry tongue and I don’t want to let her go
Let her go, let her go

Six-stringed Whispers
(Berlin, May 2002)

Midnight dancing barefoot on the streets that called us home
But turned and looked the other way when the morning saw you go
And leave me heavy as pavement, broken glass and cobblestones
And it’s dark again around me now, since the morning saw you go

Jimmy said that you were headed south the last he heard
But I was seeing in birds and clouds signs of your return
Just a lesson I’d have to swallow, and high time to learn
I don’t read the sky now anymore for signs of your return

And if I know the rain here, he’ll keep me from belief
In anything like sunshine putting rosebuds on your cheeks

And I’m a head down south to find you, where the sand is warm and white
And I’ll speak in six-stringed whispers, waiting, trying to catch your eye
I’m a head down south to find you, the sun my only guide
Where light sings on the water, waiting, trying to catch your eye

Two Wrongs
(July 2002, Berlin)

Any trouble that I've known, I was the author of it all
I made my stumbles big and my stumbles made me small
And by the time I learned to walk I only knew to crawl
Any trouble that I've known, I was the author of it all

I was born above the desert sun, below the April moon
I was just 19 with May begun and dead and gone by June
I went back once and found the place in rubble and in ruins
I was born above the desert sun, below the April moon

Oh Lord I only turned from you because you turned from me
You knew that I would wander and you knew that I would need
Years but I can see now that two wrongs won’t get me free
But Lord I only turned from you because you turned from me

Any trouble that I've known, I was the author of it all
I made my stumbles big and my stumbles made me small
And by the time I’d learned to walk I only knew to crawl
Any trouble that I've known, I was the author of it all

Curtain Call
(New Jersey, March 2004)

It started with whispers, the sun in your eyes as I snuck by
It settled in later, and that’s when I knew I’m still afraid of you

So, song in my head, and lie in my heart
Is just as good a place to start
As your black boots and my blue jeans

It died down in whispers if it ever died down, if it gave up ground
You’ll come back around just to see that I see, and you’ll put the clouds all over me

When the lights are out and the brightest parts
Of me are boarded up and dark
It’ll be the same, it’ll be the end

When all the boys you let inside your walls
Are missing when the curtain calls
It’ll be the same, it’ll be the end

How I Remember You
(New Jersey, October 2003)

The front of October believes
What nobody has the guts to say out loud:
There’s no use for shorter sleeves
There’s no point in being proud
And that’s how I remember you now
Standing on the corner, leaning into the wind

The practiced treason of the leaves
They’re already halfway out the door
They've known for months that they’d be free
When you don’t need them anymore
And that’s how I remember you now
Standing off to the side, leaning out of a crowd

I didn't think I’d have what it takes

To bite the bullet, turn and face the day
But you were always there to smooth me down
And at the end of every last page
When there’s no one else around
That’s how I remember you now
Standing at my side, leaning on my right arm

from Patriot Acts (EP, 2004)

The Ballad of Adnan Khashoggi
(New Jersey, June 2003)

Adnan Khashoggi
He’s our Adnan, our Adnan Khashoggi
When there’s danger all round
He’s nowhere to be found
Safe and sound is our Adnan Khashoggi

Adnan Khashoggi
Since Iran-Contra where’s Adnan Khashoggi?
He was long since forgotten
Till along came Bin Laden
Who brought in our Adnan Khashoggi

Adnan gets it wholesale
But makes a killing unloading at retail
You can buy things today
To kill children at play
If your pay goes to Adnan Khashoggi

Adnan Khashoggi
He’s our Adnan, our Adnan Khashoggi
With impossible dreams
And unstoppable schemes
He’s a genius our Adnan Khashoggi

Adnan and his money
If it wasn’t so sad it’d be funny
When he’s with Richard Perle
Oh they giggle like girls
At the world and write fan mail for Rummy

Adnan and the White House
Everywhere his name's covered with white-out
He was tight with the first Bush
But right now the worse Bush
Is pushing for Adnan to hide out

Adnan Khashoggi
He’s our Adnan, our Adnan Khashoggi
When there’s danger all round
He’s nowhere to be found
Safe and sound is our Adnan Khashoggi

American Flags on Foreign Cars
(New Jersey, June 2003, apologies to Robert Frost)

There used to be a thing that I would die for, but we sold it for another TV
And a life safe & sound behind walls and a happy ending
There used to be a thing that I would die for, but we traded it for cheaper gasoline
And now I can’t even remember where we were going

The world was ours before we were the world, but we made it a fight
There's not a 'gift outright' that gets blood on your hands and your dirt
And it’ll take more to save this land of ours than American flags on foreign cars

There used to be a thing that I would die for
Now it’s the thing I fear the most, from sea to shining sea and coast to coast
There used to be a statue in the harbor, and she held a light that shone at every hour
And on its ruins in the darkness we built up a watchtower

The world was ours before we were the world
Then the sky had to fall and some made it a call to join up with the Army Reserves
But it’ll take more to save this land of yours than American flags on foreign shores

And all the unmarked graves along the way, and God Bless the U.S. on a pizza box
Oh God, is that all we could carve out of Plymouth Rock?
There used to be a million different questions, but we've narrowed it all down to one:
How fast can we burn all our bridges and run for our guns?

The world was ours before we were the world
So we bring down the sky and watch other folks die and think we hear freedom unfurled
But it’ll take more to save our hearts and souls than American flags on thunder rolls

Nobody Suffers But Us
(New Jersey, February 2004)

This is the place they brought the towers down and made the whole wide world weep
But there’s cameras full of dying in the desert towns and we're not losing any sleep

CHORUS:
Nobody knows the trouble we seen
Nobody knows but Jesus
Nobody knows the weight of broken dreams
Nobody suffers but us

My mother knows they’re holding sons and fathers there, down in Guantánamo Bay
She says it’s probably illegal but she just don’t care, as long as we can sleep safe

CHORUS

One September day, 3000 innocents died, I know, but we can't bring them back
And while we bicker over monuments and dry our eyes, we’ve laid 10,000 dead in Iraq

CHORUS

Shepherd
(Jersey, 2002)

My name is Matthew Shepard
My country is the west
My story is the story
Of the worst that breaks the best

There’s a Rocky Mountain closet
That no one wants undone
I went and saw the world
But I came back where I'd begun

Cause it’s a question of sitting down
Getting closer to the ground
Smoothing out the rough spots
That bruise you where you’re soft

My name is Matthew Shepard
My country is the west
My story is the story
There’s many know the rest

I was following a smile
When it turned a darker road
That left Laramie behind us
And would not let me go

The air was cold as murder
The ground October-hard
The blows rained down like hammers
On my prayers for passing cars

My name is Matthew Shepard
My country is the west
My story is the story
The worst that breaks the best

Cardboard signs around my graveside
Saying God hates my kind
Same voices I remember
Hearing on the night I died

Or there’s you who say you love the sinners
You just hate the little things they do
You should know the hands that bound and beat me
Grew up listening to you

My name is Matthew Shepard
My country is the west
My story is the story
Made Jesus bow his head
When I told it to the shepherd
When he took me to his breast

What Our Children Is Learning*
(Jersey, Jan 2004)

Dear Mr. Kenneth Lay: What can we really say?
You grabbed at all the money that you can
And just like Halliburton, when your bottom line is hurtin
You can always send the bill to Uncle Sam

Dear Dick Cheney: Hi, it’s Earth; we met once in Ft. Worth
I called you Big Time, but your drill was short on steam
Well, you’ve screwed me ever since and when your ticker finally quits
There’ll be nowhere left to bury you that’s green

What’s the word, Big Energy?
What’s the new strategery?
Is our children learning how to see?
No, they’re learning how to sell democracy

Dear Mr. Richard Perle, one of the men who’d sell the world:
You got the war you wanted, so what now?
Every time a GI dies, do the tears well in your eyes?
Or do you just say "Fuck ‘em, I’ll get paid no matter how"?

Dear President Bush, it’s Kim Jung Il from the Axis of Evil
I watched your war on CNN, what a production!
If you’ve forgotten who I am, here’s a hint: I ain’t Saddam
I’m the one with all the weapons of mass destruction

So we're all glad you caught Saddam
But, hell, what happened to Bin Laden?
Is our children learning Dubya got him?
No, they’re learning he forgot him

Mr. Rumsfeld, my name’s Jack, I’m on the ground here in Iraq
It’s not my place to tell you how to do your thing
But you act like we’re all done when we’ve only just begun
With all these bombs it’s hard to hear that freedom ring

Hi Dubya, it’s John Ashcroft; I have worked my starched white ass off
To keep America safe and independent
Don’t tell a soul what I’m about to say, but I lost the key to Camp X-ray
Along with the 4th, the 5th, the 6th, and the 7th amendment

What’s the word there down in Gitmo?
Is the Attorney General on crack?
Is our children learning all the facts?
All they’re learning's how to take a big step back

We miss you so, Slick Willy C, and you, too, Miss Lewinsky
Since you’ve left the whole damn nation’s going down
We should have seen it coming back when Dubya started running
2004, let’s hope he’s run right out of town

And please come back, dear Kenneth Starr, no matter where you are
Now more than ever we need moral indignation
These patriots killed for good what Bin Laden never could
They’ve buried the Bill of Rights in undisclosed locations

What’s the word on the Patriot Act?
What was wrong with the Constitution?
Is our children learning the solution?
All they’re learning’s retribution

*The title is based on a quote from President George W. Bush,

who once asked, in a speech on education: "Is our children learning?"