HOME

Three great bears come to me
Building shelter from the storm
White as snow and tall as trees
They have come to keep me warm

Then four white horses with manes ablaze
Carry my body along
To seven lovely women
Who’ll take my hands
And lead me
And lead me
Home

Standing on the road at night
I am not afraid
Four watchers beside me
With maps to show the way
And at the end of the road there lay
A track I must step o’er
With stars to reckon along the way
I’ll find my way
Find my way
Home

And I will be kissed upon the forehead
And I’ll have all I could ever possibly need
And I will lay down this tired, old body
And I follow
Yes, I will follow
Love home

(Deb’s note: Dad passed away March 3, 2010)

if I could move real slow
I could hear the rocks talkin

I confess, having grown up amidst citrus orchards in Phoenix, Arizona, that the scent of orange and grapefruit trees in bloom make me horny. It is the smell of love to me. I don’t recall ever actually having made love in an orchard but I did a lot of early, hopeful exploring there and that’s almost more potent.

I was tutored in love by amazing women. I realize that we were often learning the mysteries together but they taught me to see in the dark. I have no idea what they learned from me, you’d have to ask them.

Man offers the seed of creation, woman nurtures seedlings that produce fruit and this is the magic that turns the world. It’s also what most songs are about.

God spoke to Adam
And God spoke to Eve
God spoke to the Virgin Mary
He said, y’know girl you just gotta believe
God must’ve talked a lot back then
But he don’t say boo to me
I still lie waiting
But love speaks softly
When it calls you by your name
It’s so easy to miss the meaning
Or pretend it’s just a game
But if you refuse to listen
You’ve got only yourself to blame
Love still lies waiting
While Spring turns over in her sleep
Her dreams are fairy green
But it’s only a dream

I am lucky that my wife grew up in the same town, had some of the same experiences, and responds similarly to the olfactory cues of citrus blossoms. I am even luckier that, when the women of my past show up, my wife shows them love and respect for their contributions to the man I became. Of course, she also knows I have great taste in women.

Twice this March, women who have been exceedingly important in my life reappeared. One at the Desert Botanical Garden’s Chihuly exhibit, the most astounding union of art and nature I have ever personally witnessed. I thought the same thing the first time I ever saw her. The other one showed up at the Glendale Folk Festival where I sang this song, Spring, the best song I have ever written. The blossoms were just opening and the smell nearly knocked me down. So did she.

Down by the hard road
Where the wildflowers grow
I look at them in wonder
Even though I know
Someone planted them here
Not so long ago
They still lie waiting
Waiting for a footprint
Waiting for a sign
Waiting for a raindrop
Or a little ray of sweet sunshine
Or maybe a bee will fly by
At just the right time
They still lie waiting
Spring yawns and peaks out of her hole
Looking for her shadow
Did she see it?
I don’t know

I am the groundhog’s shadow who learned to sing and I owe debts I cannot repay. I am a lucky little rodent.

You are lost on your way unto glory
Shorn like a lamb in the cold
Where no angels dare trumpet their story
For the depth of the night is untold

Oh the path lies in beauty before us
Feathered wings whisper softly in flight
We are guiding your way through the forest
We’re the shadow that cries to the night
Who, who, who, who, who
Who, who, who, who, who

Do not question the fate that has brought you
In this darkness there’s nowhere to hide
We are sent by the ones who hath wrought you
Entrusted with your final ride

Oh the path lies in beauty before us
Feathered wings whisper softly in flight
We are guiding your way through the forest
We’re the shadow that cries to the night
Who, who, who, who, who
Who, who, who, who, who

With talons of steel we will hold you
You’ve no need to fear the fall
Let the breadth of the nightwinds enfold you
It’s just your turn to answer the call

Oh the path lies in beauty before us
Feathered wings whisper softly in flight
We are guiding your way through the forest
We’re the shadow that cries to the night
Who, who, who, who, who
Who, who, who, who, who

You can play a sample of  El Dia de los Muertos/Owlsong:
[audio:eldiadelosmuertos_owlsong.mp3]

There’s no stronger wind a-blowing than the one that blows tonight
Up the canyon from the desert hey it don’t know wrong from right
It don’t give a damn about your convictions or what deity you endorse
If you run up your abstractions it’ll blow you plumb off course
You better row

From the snowmelt in the Rockies, from the San Juan and the Green
The Colorado herds her children like souls into the stream
You can take the wild ride if you choose flushed like so much sand
But keep your eyes peeled downstream this ain’t Disneyland
You better row
You better row

Now the river rocks and rumbles as it rolls down through the ages
And shatters any sense of scale when it turns back the pages
And the ruins of your history, civilizations in their prime
Are swept into an eddy, they were just a wink in time
You better row

So if time is what you’re after, if that’s what you think you lack
Take all the time you want here you might not be coming back
You can lift your eyes in wonder as you drift from shore to shore
But when the river snakes it’s savage tongue, you better grab an oar
You better row
You better row

Did you think that you could come here and fail to be impressed
With the terrifying beauty of the earth when she’s undressed
Did her passion leave you breathless, did you find the truth you seek
And when you hit the hole at Lava Falls was it difficult to speak
You better row

It’s an adolescent fantasy and we really ought to lose it
‘Cause acting like we’re in control we’re destined to abuse it
But the lyric that the rocks will echo long into the night
Is you may dare to dam the river but you cannot stem the tide
You better row
You better row

Now I know you know the parable of the sailors out at sea
There were four men in the gunnels, there was room for only three
And if my friend you don’t believe we’re all in the same boat
How long can you tread water, how long you gonna stay afloat
You better row
You better row
You better row
Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily merrily merrily merrily
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream

You can play a sample of this tune:
[audio:row.mp3]

Walking with my baby, walking down Telegraph Avenue
Walking with my sweet baby, walking down Telegraph Avenue
Hey if I didn’t tell you this morning baby
I really really really really really love you so I say
Hoo li li li Hoo li li li li
Hoo li li li Hoo li li li li
Hoo li li li Hoo lay Hoo lay Hoo lay Hoo

Walking with my good friend, walking with my good friend Doug
Walking with my good friend, walking with my good friend Doug
He walks like a duck and he talks like a duck but he ain’t no duck
He’s my good friend Doug and we say
Hoo li li li Hoo li li li li
Hoo li li li Hoo li li li li
Hoo li li li Hoo lay Hoo lay Hoo lay Hoo

Walking with my old dog, walking with my old dog Sam
Walking with my old dog, walking with my good old dog Sam
Well I call him Okey Dokey but you can just call him Sam
Sam I am that I am that I
Hoo li li li Hoo li li li li
Hoo li li li Hoo li li li li
Hoo li li li Hoo lay Hoo lay Hoo lay Hoo

Walking in the garden, walking with Jesus and Buddha too
Walking in the garden, walking with Jesus and Buddha too
We gotta slow down every now and then
Buddha got a rock in his shoe (and Jesus say boohoohoo)
But I say
Hoo li li li Hoo li li li li
Hoo li li li Hoo li li li li
Hoo li li li Hoo lay Hoo lay Hoo lay Hoo

We were talking about infinity and the trinity and the difference that
separates the three
The arcing wheel of existence of all that has been or ever will be
How we dance on the arc, we court and we spark in a blood rushing spin
And this spinning around makes a terrible sound but it’s only the wind
The wheel is round, the wheel is round, the wheel is round

Now if there was a beginning then there will have to be an end
But Uncle Albert taught us bravely to depend upon the bend of light
When cast in to space to return to the place from whence it has come
And if that is so tell me where do you suppose the light came from
The wheel is round, the wheel is round, the wheel is round

Jesus, Mohammad, Abraham we call on you
You left us with so much work to do
There’s work to do

Ezekiel saw the wheel way up in the middle of the air
And four winged beasts with burnished hooves churning and burning
up there
And they four had the face of a lion, an ox, an eagle, and a lamb
Speaking the language of thunderbolts so that Israel will understand
The wheel is round (Ezekiel saw it)
The wheel is round (tell Israel all about it)
The wheel is round (2pi r 2pi r 2pi r 2pi r 2pi r 2pi r squared)
The wheel is round (2pi r 2pi r 2pi r 2pi r 2pi r 2pi r squared)
Infinity is greater than zero, the wheel is round

If I was a bumblebee
Buzzin’ round the bowers
In pantaloons of pollen sweet
I’d wile away the hours
Dancin’ with the flowers

If I was a common moth
No fancy flutterby wings
I’d powder softly through the night
To fragrant offerings
And what the moon might bring

Each has a name here
Each has a place here
Each one under the sun
A part of forever
Apart and together
A part of everyone

And if I was a blade of grass
Growing straight and tall
The prairie beasts that thunder by
Would love me best of all
To feed the summer all

If I was a bit of clay
With shiny specks of sand
I’d bless the fires of the kiln
And bend beneath the hand
Of artists great and grand

When the sky
Is hot and dry
I can’t seem to find
My way back to you

In this world
No one keeps their word
And the promised bird
Flies away from you

There’s no sleep on this bed of nails
Bitter weeping and keening wails
Oohoo oohoo oohoo
Oohoo oohoo oohoo
Oohoo oohoo oohoo

Water’s deep
And minds are weak
And the raven beaks
Her way back to you

Bluey bright
Burn the stars at night
And the blindman’s light
Shines the way for you

Tattered prose in the silence rages
Forgotten rose ‘tween the empty pages
Oohoo oohoo oohoo
Oohoo oohoo oohoo
Oohoo oohoo oohoo

When the sky
Is clear and wide
The raven flies
Calling out to you

Oohoo oohoo oohoo
Oohoo oohoo oohoo
Oohoo oohoo oohoo

The dudes in the diesels come spoiling for a fight
They circle ’round the campfires hunting for Friday night
Every now and then you can hear ‘em bogging down
Where the sand gets soft cussing their luck and
Pushing that truck that they do not dare turn off
Do not dare turn off

The moon rises yellow hooded like a weeping eye
Tired of dripping light down on the scenery sliding by
On the AK47s and the shot to shit tvs
If it’s shiny we shoot at it my country tis of thee
Oh my country tis of thee sweet land of liberty
Of thee I sing

Dawn brings the deputy to survey the battle scars
Beating the thickets writing tickets to unabandoned dogs and cars
It’s the only quiet of the day and he wants to be gone real soon
Nobody’s dying to be high sheriff of this country
At high noon

The quadrunners and the ghostriders start gunning their engines
The shiny plastic helmets make them look like little aliens
Popping wheelies in the river bottom ’til the dust just chokes the air
And mom follows behind with the sandwiches’cause it’s a family affair
It’s a family affair

My grandpa showed me this country when I was a kid
Saguaros soldiered everywhere
Now they only march on the mountains and the few
That are left down there in the flats are peppered
With bullets the size of golfballs buried in the rotting wood
And if you’re the one with the biggest gun
I guess you just call that good

Yeah and everyone else is evil everyone else is wrong and
If you won’t fight for what is right then you simply don’t belong
And we do not feel for pulses and we do not feel for pain
Pay very close attention listen to the rhythm of the fallen reign
Telling me what a fool I’ve been
What a fool I’ve been

They’re shooting up the desert tonight down in Little Iraq
Some of the boys going out there will not be coming back
They’ll drown in a dry wash of shotgun shells and beer
With the sound of freedom still ringing in their ears
In their ears, in their ears
The sound of freedom