Lyrics

from Adding Up the Everything We Lost (EP, 2008)

 

Indiana

[I-70 east of Columbus, OH—summer, 2001]

 

In an hour I’ll be in Indiana

And you won’t have to look at me no more

And I won’t have to think about the beating

I’ll be far enough away from New York

 

In an hour I’ll let it sink in deeper

I’m going back the way I came

There used to be a beauty in the leaving

But I’m too old now to feel that way

 

You were on my mind through Pennsylvania

And I got feeling hemmed in by the trees

And other things that never will contain you:

Sheets of paper, sheets of cotton, and memories

 

I used to think that there’d be time

For us somewhere down the line

 

In an hour I’ll be in Indiana

And you won’t ever see my face again

Cause nothing in the cards has got the answer

I’m laying down my losing hand

 

I used to think that there’d be time

For us somewhere down the line

 

 

Hope is Not a Compass, It’s a Cloud

[L.A., 2005]

 

I once knew a girl who couldn’t kill a song

We’d have to sit out the Beatles in her El Camino

Waiting for the end to come along

She left me for the Dead because I wouldn’t wait

On every single break that Uncle Jerry would take

At some point it just gets late

 

But I guess that’s what you get when you’re too pretty too young

And every bruiser on the block will buck and break into a run

Just to put a tab on your tongue

They told you there was hope in a song

 

I woke up next to you the morning your divorce came through

Backseat in a Little Rock parking lot

With a head too hurt to be true

You prayed for love sweet love but baby I’m all they sent

Not much to look at or shake a book at

But good for half the rent

 

But I guess that’s what we get for being high and too wide

Now everybody on the block is trying to talk you back to Christ

Just to put a turn in your tide

They’re telling you there’s hope in a guide

 

At the end you used to say we were like quotation marks

Words got between us not worth repeating

And kept us hard apart

Better on the move is better on your own

Hell even I can see what everybody calls freedom

Is nothing but being alone

 

But I guess that’s what we get for being fast and too free

Now everybody on the block knew you were better than me

And talk of other fish in the sea

Made you hope for things you can’t see

 

Hope is not a compass, it’s a cloud and one of the brightest

It proves there’s light but will not let you get

To where the light is

Hope is not a compass, it’s a cloud and one of the brightest

It knows there’s light but will not let you get

To know what light is

 

 

Gaslight (Oh Tomorrow)

[Berlin/NJ, Nov/Dec 04]

 

You’re the one who lights every candle in the place

Under the sign they couldn’t keep in ’68

With voices from the corner knocking down heaven’s door

Tomorrow’s getting off the floor

 

I’ll be sitting over there by last week’s magazines

Waiting all night for your minutes in between

But when I step to stretch I catch your eyes and hedge my bets

Tomorrow’s all I’ve got left

 

I only wanted to come here for the dark

And cause Dylan on the wall

Is still wearing his question mark

 

If you get this call I’ve gone back to Los Angeles

I used to live for hope but now I know I can’t handle it

Where streets are only named after men who made the earth move

Tomorrow’s all I’ve got to lose

 

 

None of This Is Real

Waterford, April 2006

 

We fell asleep with Astral Weeks on repeat, on repeat.

We awoke, the morning choked on all the things that young lovers do.

 

None of this is real but the way the morning feels:

The blush of light that dulls the night,

The rush of early risers in their wingtips and half-heels.

None of this is real.

 

We fell asleep with Astral Weeks on repeat, on repeat.

Was I gone for you? Were you gone for me? Gone for you, gone for me,

 

None of this is real but the way a morning feels:

The rush of light that stuns the night,

The crush of early risers in their wingtips and sawed-off heels.

None of this is real.

 

 

Dolorosa

 

The midnight summer sky just started crying like a child

And I’m not superstitious, but the rain don’t ever take my side

You wore sun from yesterday like blush upon your face

The love we had was just so vast we staggered under the weight

And I said, Won’t be long before I’m back again

Tapping at your window like the rain

 

I woke up with the blues around me like a noose

And I knew I’d have to walk in my own shoes

And there’s fresh holes in my back from where they took away my wings

The minute I opened my mouth and started to sing

And thoughts of you get running long and deep

And bully me right up and out of sleep

 

The day I got my things from your daddy’s place in Freehold

I threw cobwebs along the walk to your front door

I’d never seen your old man look so old

Like someone took his air and left him standing there

You were somewhere else and naming shadows

And watching light throw shapes on open windows

 

& I know when you come back if you come back you’ll want some time

To call the hard days out and name them line by line

To shove our soft nights back away and wait for them to call

Maybe when the trees are gold and shouldering the fall

And waiting, bated breath, for how to be

Where everything’s stuck in a minor key

 

I woke up with the blues inside me dancing ones and twos

And the air was shimmering spirits trying to break in their new shoes

Around the hole inside me while I wait for whatever winter brings

Longer nights and shorter days and air so cold it sings

And trees that bristle, crystal under frost

And adding up the everything we lost

© 2008, Six String Whispers Music (ASCAP)

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

© 2005, Six String Whispers Music (ASCAP)


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