Category Archives: Songs

Lyrics and other song forms, including recordings

Let the Cold Wind Blow

Let the cold wind blow,
let the weak spots show,
let the gray hair go
’til it’s there no more.

Let the days roll by,
let the hours fly,
let ’em say goodbye
’til it’s you and I.

There’s just no reason
that I can find
to leave a bit of
this life behind.

Let the loose lips slip,
let the hipsters hip,
let the sinking ship
take a long, cool dip.

Let the world roll on,
let the foolish fawn
let both king and pawn
fade until they’re gone.

There’s just no point
that I can see
to let it bother
you and me.

Let the raindrops fall,
let the time just crawl,
let the engine stall
somewhere in the hall.

Let the earth just spin,
let them all back in,
let both thick and thin
come around again.

There’s just no reason
that I can find
to ever have you
off my mind.

15 JAN 2015

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Just Yesterday’s News

I don’t know the man that I’m supposed to be:
I’ve looked at his life like a documentary;
and with some of his choices I just can’t agree;
but it’s too late to start out again.

I’m tired of the man I’m supposed to become:
that you get where you’re going thanks to where you’re from,
and somehow, the pieces add up to the sum
’til it’s too late to start out again.

Help me out, anyone, throw me a line;
tell me again things will all be just fine.
Help me out, would you, we’re out here alone;
we don’t need to be stuck on our own.

I’m sick of the man I turned into a while:
that often unsteady and pathetic smile
who traded in substance and bartered with style,
but you can’t up and start out again.

I’m sure I don’t know who I’ll be in the end:
the lover, the fighter, the poet, the friend;
but at least in the mirror, I will not pretend
it’s not too late to start out again.

Help me out, anyone, throw me a bone,
some reassurance here in the unknown.
Help me out, please, and I’ll do you the same;
we don’t need to keep playing this game.

I’m just not quite clear who I’ll be in a year:
but some things are cloudy, and others quite clear;
there’s neither the past or the future to fear,
and there’s no starting over again.

Help me out, anyone, just take a chance.
Music is playing; we’ve paid for the dance.
Help me out, honestly, what can you lose?
We don’t always get what we choose,
but we’re neither just yesterday’s news.

22 DEC 2013

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Let go, let go, let go

Cast away your doubts and fears;
let go, let go, let go.
Leave behind all that you know;
let go, let go, let go.

Nothing left to tie you down,
nothing blocking out your sound,
nothing keeping you around;
let go, let go, let go.

Toss aside those clouds and gray;
let go, let go, let go.
Ask the universe to play;
let go, let go, let go.

There is something left to find,
something of another kind,
could be something on your mind:
let go, let go, let go.

Leave behind your cares and woe;
let go, let go, let go.
All you’ve learned and all you know;
let go, let go, let go.

Anything can be achieved,
anything you can believe
can be used to make you grieve:
let go, let go, let go.

Let your worries slip away;
let go, let go, let go.
Start again, just start today;
let go, let go, let go.

No one blocking out your view,
no one left except for you
to complete the passage through:
let go, let go, let go.

19 APR 2013

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A Prayer for Kurtis Cummings

Say a prayer for old Kurtis Cummings:
went out in his rowboat and got lost out at sea.
Left his wife and two young children
waiting standing at communion with the Reverend Jerry Lee.

Picked up his old shotgun and his pea coat from the Navy,
walked out by the back door and left his extra key;
left a note for Molly, said “I’ll meet you at the service.
Give my best to Deacon Jones and the Reverend Jerry Lee.”

Kurtis stood out back,
and when he heard that they were leaving,
reached into his pocket for a shell.
No one heard the echo of the shot until that evening,
when the papers found they had a tale to tell:
“Reverend Lee says Kurtis C. is bound for hell.
Widow’s lawyer says it’s probably just as well.”

Say a prayer for old Kurtis Cummings:
went out in his garden and got turned out to seed.
Left his young wife and a thriving business
filling the collection plate for the Reverend Jerry Lee.

Picked up his old hat and the old shotgun from the corner,
slipped out through the back hall and gently closed the screen.
Left a note for Molly, said “I’ll see you when it’s over;
give my love to ma and pa and Reverend Jerry Lee.”

Kurtis slipped out back
and when he heard them at the table,
tossed into the breech another round.
No one felt the echo of the shock until much later,
when the papers printed up what they had found:
“Widow cries as Kurtis C. goes in the ground;
and the Reverend Lee has disappeared from town.”

Say a prayer for old Kurtis Cummings:
went out for a drive and got turned underneath the wheel.
Left his wife and two young children
waiting on their first communion with the Reverend Jerry Lee.

Standing waiting on communion with the Reverend Jerry Lee.

for Kurt Cobain

14 MAY 1994

A Prayer for Kurtis Cummings (demo)

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Lay down

Lay down your weary tune;
lay down your weary tune.
You’ve been singing it for far too long.
When others faltered, you still held on strong:
never a missed note or phrase gone wrong.
Lay down your weary tune.

Lay down your worried mind;
lay down your worried mind.
All those ideas that still carry you,
lost dreams and wishes that have not come true,
still doing nothing with nothing to do:
lay down your worried mind.

Lay down your troubled heart;
lay down your troubled heart;
You’ve let your flame go out and found the dark,
toasted with gasoline to find a spark,
and in the scheme of things, to leave your mark.
Lay down your troubled heart.

Lay down your weary tune;
lay down your weary tune.
Just find another, something more inspired:
outside the door where things are still not wired.
Leave that old one to quietly retire;
lay down your weary tune.

03 FEB 2013

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Old Song

Here’s an old song I used to play
back when I meant every word that I’d say.
Used to sing it, ’til it felt wrong;
now it’s just another tired, old song.

Here’s an old song, with worn out words:
its tune is simple, its ideas absurd.
Used to sing it almost every night;
least until I learned to sing it right.

Everything must fade away;
every color turns to gray.
Ain’t no use in hanging on:
just sixty seconds and the moment’s gone.

Here’s a new song that I just wrote;
haven’t learned it all quite note for note.
Starting singing it to pass the time;
Now it’s getting longer, line by line.

Here’s a new song to learn and sing;
a catchy number that don’t mean a thing.
Starting sharing it with all my friends;
it will go on right until it ends.

Everything must fade away;
every color turns to gray.
Ain’t no use in hanging on:
in sixty seconds’ time, your moment’s gone.

Here’s an old song I wrote just now;
hell, its age don’t matter anyhow.
Thought I’d sing it just to please myself;
ain’t no point in pleasing no one else.

Here’s an old song I used to know;
and I just wrote it a short while ago.
Used to sing it, but I just lost track;
Sent it out and it did not come back.

Everything must fade away;
every color turns to gray.
Ain’t no use in hanging on:
the moment’s over, time to move along.

20 JUN 2012

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Difference Song

Just shut your eyes and zip up your lip;
let the illusion of indifference slip

you in a coma of the beautiful life

you pretend.

It doesn’t matter which way you choose.
Your revolution is yesterday’s news,
lost in a column on the bottom right

of page ten.

Here it comes again…

the feeling you should not be feeling,

the knowing right from wrong,
the urge to find the answers,
the make a difference song.

Just keep your mouth shut, don’t say a word.

Don’t let on that you think it’s all absurd, 

a trick of light and mirrors meant

to fool the marks.

It doesn’t matter, those who get paid

are on the right side of the barricade.
The choice is death by drowning,

or life with sharks.

And here it comes again…

the feeling you should not be feeling,

the sense that something’s wrong,
the need to turn the light on,
the make a difference song.

09 JUL 2009

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