SONG LYRICS

OLD NEWS

 

 

 

 

BRICK AND MORTAR
 
I rub my hands and absorb the heat, radiating up through the passenger seat. The engine idles silent in the bitter cold. The light shines through, a clean grey slate, a whisper of blue and the weary weight of hearts too heavy for our hands to hold.
 
The hurt comes quick, the words come late, hours spent on an expiry date. We both have other places we should be. The chance we had has passed us by; a stray plane in a neutral sky, a tear stain drying on a jacket sleeve
 
Hearts can pound through brick and mortar; cornerstones are crumbling into dust. Walls come down, I come up short; I wanted more of us.
 
The walls lean in, the roof has caved, one more thing that we can't save. Time and change will win no matter how we try. It's hard to say no and hard to say when to tear it all down or build it up again. There's a gentle art in saying goodbye.
 
MR. M

Dear Mr. M,

I thought I'd write you once again. It's been a long time since I thought to say hello. How've you been? Are you well? Haven't had too much to tell you. I have lingered on this letter, now it's time to let it go.

Looking back, we both know I was stubborn and precocious and I'm sure it wasn't easy to keep me in my place. Now I see my mistakes, and my confidence is shaken, and I wish that I had the half the nerve of those early days.

Dear Mr. M, 
I hope you try to reach me. Way back when, I know you tried to teach me. The lessons you left with me, I still remember them,
and I hope you can forgive me, Mr. M.

I remember you then, grading papers in red pen. You would circle every error; something good got underlined. You were harsh, you were frank, and I always meant to thank you for the one time when I needed you. You listened, and you were kind.

I can't say why I waited, this letter is outdated. I feel strange in this relationship; the lines have been so blurred. If you'll give one more try, I would love a quick reply and I will take my pen in hand and I will underline each word.
 
VHS

I stayed up late for my auction bid - gently used, a VCR. Like Christmas morning for a kid, I type the numbers on my credit card. Fill my name and my address, pay for next-day delivery. Harry barks at the UPS; Harry and me keep our own company.

Treasures buried in my mind, they come alive and fill the screen. Memories I had left behind; it’s been years since I’d last seen the places that I used to go, the faces that I used to know.

The basement shelves are in a mess. Joan would tear a strip off me. Stacks of books and VHS, under the dust, a memory. The labels peel, the cases fade. Every tape, a new surprise. Birthday parties, friends we made, babies grow before my eyes.

Treasures buried in my mind, they come alive and fill the screen. When it ends, I press rewind. It’s been years since I’d last seen the places that I used to go, the faces that I used to know.

The final show to end the night - our wedding day in late July. Joanie’s dress of lily white…fast and forward, the good times fly. For every photo in our book, she held the camera and made us smile. Now I remember how she looked. I haven’t seen her in a long, long while.

Joanie in her wedding dress, she visits me on VHS.

HARRY

Your sisters and your brothers, every one a different color. “Pups for Sale”, a sign nailed to a tree. You were such a mangy sight, didn't know your fur was white ‘til I gave you a good shampoo to kill off all the fleas.

You would never growl or nip; you were born smart as a whip. For Milkbones you'd perform your set of tricks. You would walk me through the park every evening before dark, smelling grass and eating trash and chasing after sticks.

You're a good boy, Harry, a real good boy. Thank you for the golden years you've spent here by my side. You're a good boy, Harry, a real good boy, but even good boys have to say goodbye.

When Joanie passed away, I'd have stayed in bed all day, but I held the leash and found my feet and took you for a walk. Now it's hard to get around; you and me, we're slowing down. You understand my feelings when I hurt too much to talk.

My grandson says he'll bring you to the home to visit me sometime when I'm settled and I'm fit for company. I won't complain when I find a little tuft of hair matted on my slipper, a reminder you were there.

Soon he will arrive to take you for a drive along with all your tennis balls, your blanket, and your treats. It just won't be the same; I'll forget and say your name, expecting you to claim your place curled up beside my feet.

AT YOUR SERVICE

In the hard grey chairs at the doctor’s office, me and a man with a terrible cough. It’s 11:00 a.m.; the doctor is late, nothing there to do but wait. He handed me a wrinkly business card, Told me of his young years working hard. Small engine repairs, tractors and mowers, back in the days when the world moved slower. 

He had loved every minute of the simple life, a lot less simple since he lost his wife. She had died last June ⎯ her lungs full of cancer. He took all the tests, he was waiting for answers. His hands were shaking; he looked so nervous as he handed me the card that said, “At your service.”

At the funeral home when the paperwork came, I remembered the card, I remembered his name. The obituary short, no next of kin; we only had to print a few bulletins for the half dozen people that had gathered there, fanning themselves in their hard grey chairs. Workers from the home where the old man lived; sympathy cards with nobody to give.

The minister comforted in their loss, then everybody rose for “The Old Rugged Cross.” We carried him down to where the grass was mown, his wife and his son’s names carved in stone. As we covered the grave with a shovel of dirt, I remembered the card with the words, “At your service.”

SOMEWHERE

Somewhere in the world, there is a girl who’s been waiting for someone to start her day with; to travel peaks and valleys of the world, and when the day is done, someone to stay with.

Two coffees with the right amount of cream. The morning paper puzzles fit together. A favorite movie on a tiny screen reminds him of the first time that he met her.

To swap a window seat aboard a plane, to share the thrill of each new destination: the mountains of Nepal, castles in Spain, the wilderness of hearts for exploration.

So when you pack your bags and fly away, may clouds of darker days break through to blue. Please take my warm regards and give them to the girl who gets to go somewhere with you.

MESSY

Over pale German ale Michael tells us the tale  of the man who had lived one floor down. For fifty long years no one else ventured near. They walked through the hall, unaware of the squalor that he kept around. Newspapers and bags, wrappers and rags, treasures and trash piled high, a great wall of Germany built from its history, bric-a-brac bricks and the buzzing of flies.

All alone in his room, sealed in his tomb; when they finally broke down the door he had died in his chair, three days resting there, mountains of memories in stacks on the floor. What makes it so strong, the urge to hold on to things we should really let go? In a one-man museum where people can’t see them, secrets we keep from the neighbours below.

Munich wakes up in the morning and washes its face, but sadness makes marks you can feel in the dark, fresh paint and plaster are meant to erase.
Climbing each flight of the staircase you might feel the footsteps of those gone before, the coming and going, the uneasy unknowing of those who have been through the war.

Michael leads us upstairs to the room we will share after we’ve played our concert that night. While the boys go drinking, I lay here thinking. Ashamed to feel lonely I read Truman Capote just to keep on the light ‘til I hear them stumbling, laughing and mumbling, tumbling down cobblestone streets. In just a few hours they’ll take their cold showers and put cowboy boots back on their feet.
 
THE CIRCUS
 
Cotton candy, sticky fingers, fryer grease and smoke that lingers in my wig and costume clothes, nightmare paint, a bright red nose. A tiny town, the pouring rain, the monkeys pick fleas from the mane of a lion who had lost his fight to noise and heat and firelight.

In the ring, I am a clown. We bring the circus into town and tumble round like acrobats for ticket stubs and coins in hats. Where are the crowds? They skip the show and listen to the radio. They don't bother coming down when the circus comes to town.

The chorus girls, they twirl and dance, the frayed lace of their underpants. I made myself some grander plans - swallowed swords, and sleights of hand.
A magic man cuts me in half to oohs and aahs and doubtful laughs. Every morning, crack of dawn, the wheels turn and we move on.

At noon I’ll share my sandwiches with elephants and ostriches, and I think about my precious kids packing their own school lunches. I daydream of a different tent, the summer evenings that we spent at Rissers Beach, laid side by side; through nylon walls, the roaring tide.

SAUDADE

The sweet smell of orange trees and coffee and street market leather under the weather in the Portuguese sun. The blue patterned tiles repeating, the days run together. Under the weather, I am missing someone.

In the heat of the night I hear music. It sings in my memory with the words that I wish I had said when I kissed you goodbye.
As the sounds from the street
hang between me and sleep, I pretend we can be together under the weather and the red sunset sky.

The waves play with each grain of sand; on the coast I am counting, dip my toes in the fountain.  We're an ocean apart. In Porto, the city of bridges, I feel disconnected, more than I expected. I thought more of my heart.

MAYBE

Maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore. Maybe we should be content to leave  without a word about the way we were before. Maybe you'd say something clever, make me smile, make me laugh, remind me life was better when you were my better half. Maybe we shouldn't see each other.

Maybe I shouldn't try to tell you how I feel. Maybe I should say goodbye, not wonder what went wrong or question what was real. Maybe there's no explanation for matters of the heart - what brings two hearts together, and what makes one fall apart. Maybe we shouldn't see each other.

Maybe you shouldn't do those sweet things, not today! If it's true that you and I are through, those sweet things will only get in the way. The next time that we meet, I predict we'll make amends, but a wound is all the deeper when inflicted by a friend. Maybe we shouldn't see each other.

Why should we be sweet if we are coming to an end? I don't want you to sweep me off my feet again! Maybe we shouldn't see each other.
 
GOOD FRIENDS

When all is lost and life is upside down, a friend is there to turn your day around. When your hands are full, a friend will hold the door. Yes, that is what good friends are for!

To keep your secrets under lock and key, to forgive the flaws that other folks don’t see, to remind you of a joke that you once shared. Yes, that is how a good friend cares!

A friend is nice when you need advice; they’ll steer you clear of trouble. They understand when you need a hand; they will be there on the double. When you need a lift, or you feel adrift, a friend will throw a line. It’s such a gift to have a friend like mine!

Anyone can love you at your best, but only a good friend can pass the test. They love you when you're angry, sad, and bitter. A friend makes you a winner when you feel like a quitter!

When you’re tipsy in the glow of candlelight, and you ask a friend if they will spend the night, but they don’t stay, they go home to someone else - that is one way a good friend helps. A shoulder you can cry on, and nothing more! Yes, that is what good friends are for.
 

CHASING RABBITS
Released November 2020

 

 

 

 

MELT

The snow’s piling high, the streetlight goes dark 
The afterglow omen of a disappeared spark 
The snowflakes are memories too heavy to lift 
With no will to move them I let my mind drift 
Each snowflake reminds me how warm your love felt 
I watch them as they fall down and wait for them to melt 

The summer was heaven, the winter is long 
Now we've lost the power to fix what went wrong 
Your name spelled in footprints the snowflakes erase 
They turn into teardrops that fall on my face 
Each snowflake reminds me how warm your love felt 
I watch them as they fall down and wait for them to melt 

I bury my treasures in a bank of mistakes 
My arms feeling empty with no angels to make 
Each snowflake’s a memory, its own time and place 
And I pray that the sunshine will take every trace 
Of these snowflakes, they remind me how warm your love felt 
I watch them as they fall down and wait for them to melt

Lunenburg Moon

The church glowing golden, I remember your smile 
And the echo of footsteps as we met in the aisle 
And the music was gentle but it lifted us high 
It was just an old folk song, but it still made me cry 

We went to a party with some friends down the street 
The wine kept on flowing as we followed our feet 
To a house on the hillside while the town was asleep 
Every step on the staircase had a secret to keep 

All the words I remember 
And I remember the tune 
At the end of September 
And me and you and the Lunenburg moon 

Your hand I was holding, my heart skipping beats 
In the bed of a captain with sails for its sheets 
The room was so quiet, just whispers and waves 
In the darkness we drifted, two souls to be saved 

All the words I remember 
And I remember the tune 
At the end of September 
And me and you and the Lunenburg moon

CHASING RABBITS

 When Cleo was a puppy she got sick and nearly died 
And the vet suspects it left her with some damage deep inside 
She can’t handle freedom in the woods or on the beach 
We know that she’ll go running so we keep her on a leash 

Deep down I know Cleo is an awful lot like me 
We tend to hide our troubles places people never see 
She’s a slave to being anxious, I’m a slave to my bad habits 
When I should be busy working I’m distracted, chasing rabbits 

In my dreams I try to catch them but they wake me up at night 
When I think of all the music and the songs I didn’t write 
I know I held myself back, no, I can’t blame anyone  
Every morning I make Cleo stop and walk instead of run 

Since we can’t handle freedom, our family keeps us close 
Though we take out our frustrations on the ones that matter most 
Then we cover them with kisses, or we hide our love away 
When the only thing they want is for us to sit, for us to stay 

Deep down I know Cleo is an awful lot like me 
We tend to hide our troubles places people never see 
And I wish that I could trust her, wish that I could let her go 
I would drop her leash and watch her chase the rabbits through the snow

 IN THE CITY

The place that I come from has only one city 
The traffic lights through the windshield were festive and pretty 
Christmas shopping at Zellers and Sears when I was a kid 
I dreamed someday I’d live there, and for two years I did 

My mom cried, and Lady Di died the day I left for college 
Where I stayed up too late writing papers and faking my knowledge  
Of philosophy, history, lectures that I had slept through 
I had only enrolled just to say I had something to do 

I would walk through the wind and the snow of a winter Park Lane  
See the spring garden flowers grow in the Spring Garden rain 
The streets named for trees were a forest to me 
With no one to hear when I fell 
In the city that hid me so well 

A twenty-four hour IGA grocery store 
A two-bedroom apartment above that I couldn’t afford 
Video Difference, suspense, drama, and horror 
Like the night I called cops to bust into a locked bathroom door 

Where a scorned former boyfriend unbottled his feelings inside 
Talking madness and swallowing sadness to make it subside 
I tried to be cool and calm but I was terrified  
When they took him away I can’t even say if I cried 

I collected my thoughts, called collect from a public pay phone 
For my regular check-in and chat with my mother back home 
I was too stubborn to tell her that I was in trouble 
I pretended I only saw rainbows from inside my bubble 

I would walk through the wind and the snow of a winter Park Lane  
See the spring garden flowers grow in the Spring Garden rain 
 The streets named for trees were a forest to me 
With no one to hear when I fell 
In the city that hid me so well 

Like a daisy making its way through a sidewalk crack 
The love of a friend called my heart and my heart called him back 
He would walk through the Commons alone at 3:30am 
With a sandwich he’d stolen, bologna or PB and jam 

A confessional booth at a Wendy's with burgers and fries 
We shared our mistakes over milkshakes and untied our lies 
He had flunked out of school, a secret he’d carefully covered 
There and then we decided that we’d rather study each other 

We would walk through the wind and the snow of a winter Park Lane 
See the spring garden flowers grow in the Spring Garden rain 
The streets named for trees where he walked next to me 
With no one to hear when we fell in love 
In the city he loved me so well

 TRAINING TO FLY

I look overhead in the morning  
To the families of Canada geese 
In the grey autumn sky they are training to fly 
Broken Vs, incomplete victories 

And today while I make my way homeward 
I think of the snowbirds that sing 
Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m still in my shell 
Or I’ve started stretching my wings 

Then I feel the wind pushing forward 
I feel the pull of the sky 
The fear and the freedom of a free-falling bird 
That’s been waiting and training to fly 

I thought I would be like my mother 
Her babies kept safe in their nest 
With no thoughts in her mind to leave them behind 
Every day she gave them her best 

But a nest isn’t made for forever 
And my babies, I want you to know 
That it’s good to be grown and choose paths of your own 
And be brave wherever you go 

I feel the wind pushing forward 
I feel the pull of the sky 
The fear and the freedom of a free-falling bird 
That’s been waiting and training to fly 

I feel the wind pushing forward 
I feel the pull of the sky 
The fear and the freedom of a free-falling bird 
That’s been waiting and training to fly 
I've been waiting and training to fly

 MOTHERLAND

The wash machine is just 1/4 full  
I only packed a few things for the flight  
Christmas socks and a sweater knit from homespun wool  
things to keep me warm alone at night 

The February wind is whipping round  
the 401 is closed down for the snow  
a call goes straight to voicemail the loneliest of sounds  
with three days left to kill until the show 

I never dreamed I’d land in Holland Landing 
In a country band with a rambling man 
I had no understanding of being away from day to day 
It isn’t something that I planned 
I miss my babies back in motherland 

You tell me everything is going fine  
we all agree the weeks are going to fly 
No matter how we listen things go missing across the line  
I lose my voice before I start to cry 

I tell you that the tour is going well 
The crowds are sweet, and people here are kind  
I ask about your homework but you don’t have much to tell 
I’m feeling every minute of the hour that I’m behind 

I never dreamed I’d land in Holland Landing 
In a country band with a rambling man 
I had no understanding of being away from day to day 
It isn’t something that I planned 
I miss my babies back in motherland 

I hope you find the valentines I hid 
I’ll bring a few treats home from the hotel  
We’ll bake that batch of cookies  
Just like we did when you were kids 
And in my mind, I still can find the smell 

I never dreamed I’d land in Holland Landing 
In a country band with a rambling man 
I had no understanding of being away from day to day 
It isn’t something that I planned 
I miss my babies back in motherland 

I miss my babies...

MANITOBA MAPLE

There is one tall tree 
A Manitoba Maple  
Rocking like a cradle  
When the wind and rain combine 
I watch through the window  
As the hurricane advances  
The maple bends and dances 
The power leaves the line 

My family tree is narrow 
No sisters and no brothers 
My father and my mother 
My children and my love 
I hope that I can give them  
The time and space and sunlight 
To be happy in their own right  
And reach for stars above 

When the Manitoba Maple's coming down 
And the branches die, we'll finally tie a yellow ribbon round 
But the roots run deep 
And we there keep the seeds of memories 
Nested in the branches of our family tree 

Musicians, cooks, and bakers, 
Painters and school teachers 
Pentecostal preachers 
On the promises they stand  
My grandma was a wonder 
When her time had come to part  
I sang her In the Garden 
'Til she let go of my hand 

When the Manitoba Maple's coming down 
And the branches die 
We'll finally tie a yellow ribbon round 
But the roots run deep 
And we there keep the seeds of memories 
Nested in the branches of our family tree 

As the storm passes over 
The soft light of a candle  
Finds the pictures on my mantle 
The smiles on wedding days 
May we stay strong and steady  
Like a Manitoba Maple 
Rocking like a cradle 
With the strength to bend and sway 

When the Manitoba Maple's coming down 
And the branches die 
We'll finally tie a yellow ribbon round 
But the roots run deep 
And we there keep the seeds of memories 
Nested in the branches of our family tree 
Nested in the branches of our family tree

COYOTES

I set out with the sunrise on a set of worn-out skis 
My thoughts were hanging heavy as the snow upon the trees 
I was thinking of my granddad, how he'd given many warnings 
To watch out for coyotes in the woods on winter mornings 

With a dagger in my pocket that could kill me if I fell 
I made two lines like the highway through the trail I knew so well 
At the log bridge by the river, I heard a rustle at my back 
Caught a glimpse of the coyote that was following my tracks 

In her eyes a glow of amber, in a flash she lunged for me 
I stumbled in my skis, she ripped my snow pants at the knee 
With a mittened hand I wrestled, tried to free my granddad’s knife 
Drove it deep into the soft fur of the dog to save my life 

With a whimper she relented and the snow turned angry red 
She licked her wounded shoulder while my own leg pulsed and bled 
A shadow broke the sunlight in the corner of my eye 
A pack of young coyotes come to watch their mother die 

As her babies gathered round me, I could smell their puppy breath 
And my thoughts in that brief moment were of life instead of death 
As they tore me into pieces and licked my old bones clean 
My spirit grew so peaceful, the most at rest I’d ever been 

I thought of my own babies, running fingers through their hair,  
And all the times I had wronged them, caught my leg in my own snare 
I will see no fiery furnace, no box deep in the ground 
Just a pack of wild coyotes and their high and lonesome sound

 FEELS LIKE HOME

Skyscrapers stoplights and barfights spill into the street 
I walk home at midnight I keep my eyes on my feet 
Loneliness dark and deep in the city that doesn't sleep 
No trace of your smile on the faces of strangers I meet 

I stare out the window, lost in the space of my bed 
The sounds from the sidewalk can't drown out the noise in my head 
The view can't compare to your eyes, the city can't sing lullabies 
All I hear is the echo of words that you said 

Home 
When I see your face  
I am in a place that feels like home 

I had big city lights shining bright in my small town dream 
I was blind with excitement, the future in high beam 
I thought I was ready to fly 
But I've been falling since we said goodbye 
And the stars in the sky they are farther away than they seem 

Home 
When I see your face  
I am in a place that feels like home 

It's the break in your voice when you call 
It's the photos on my bedroom wall 
It's the words of an old favorite song 
The feeling of where I belong 

Home's not a place that you  stay 
It is someone that meets you halfway 
I will only be home when I'm standing with you 

Home 
When I see your face  
I am in a place that feels like home

SAIGON

I drive him to the airport, and he promises to call 
He tells me that in love there are just two ways to fall 
In and out of Vietnam 
There were times I saw him falling deep and down 

She had never seen a snowfall, felt the fresh air on her face 
So he buys a one-way ticket, flies her to his rented place 
And he sings her gentle music, brings her roses from the grocery downtown 

Say hi from Saigon  
With a sigh, and he is gone 
Gone to find the sun and try find someone to warm his heart 
Say hi from Saigon 
Where the evening meets the dawn 
Country man and city girl  
Holding hands but they are still a world apart 

They have no need for speaking on the sand beneath the sunset 
She makes him fancy dinners, sews him clothes, and learns his language 
Then she offers him her soul but keeps her clothes on under blankets in the dark 

Then she drive him to the airport when the roses lose their redness 
And returns to washing dishes, serving coffee to the tourists  
As he starts a new adventure and he doesn't know how deep he leaves a mark 

Say hi to Saigon  
With a sigh, and he is gone 
Gone to find the sun and try to find someone to warm his heart 
Say hi to Saigon 
Where the evening meets the dawn 
Country man and city girl  
Holding hands but they are still a world apart 

So I answer when he calls me after they have been together 
And he wonders if she'll be the one to stay with him forever 
To love him without judgement, and be faithful, kind, and true 
But there is more to love than what someone can do for you 

Goodbye to Saigon 
She will cry when he is gone 
Although she hides it well, her family can tell it from her eyes 
Goodbye to Saigon 
He is always moving on 
When the winter's over you ought to know a snowbird's gonna fly 
When the winter's over you ought to know a snowbird's gonna fly

OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES
Released January 2019

 

 

 

 

 

BROOKLYN

I met a girl named Brooklyn standing by the schoolhouse door
With blue eyes like her mother’s that could start or stop a war
And she loves her baby brother, and she’s written him a song
And I have a funny feeling that I’ll hear it before long
The beauty of a skyline, the promise of the world
Are just a few things you might find in the eyes of a little girl

I took the bus to Brooklyn where I spent my younger days
It was where I earned my war wounds and I faked my way to A’s
Flannel shirts and blue jeans were a suitable disguise from the eyes of guys around me
But then one day, one found me

My heart was taken by a boy who had a band
We had a fight on prom night so my friend and I went dancing
I had no ambitions, nothing I was dreaming of beyond a moment’s worth of love
The beauty of a shoreline, the promise of the world
Are just a few things he hoped to find in the eyes of a high school girl

Flip through the yearbook that I found down in the basement
And I pause on certain pages, and I wonder where a face went
Twenty years seems like a short time when I look over my shoulder
But it feels like a lifetime for a young girl who can’t wait to be older
.
I met a girl named Brooklyn standing by the schoolhouse door
With blue eyes like her mother’s that could start or stop a war
And she loves her baby brother, and she’s written him a song
And I have a funny feeling that I’ll hear it before long
The beauty of a skyline, the promise of the world
Are just a few things you might find in the eyes of a little girl

COTTON MILL

We left the high school early, he drove me into town
We noticed on the smokestack all the bricks had been torn down
He was my friend and teacher, I was eighteen years old
The textile mill in Windsor hadn’t yet been sold

The mill survived the fire that had turned the town to ash
Making clothing out of cotton until the town ran out of cash
A century of workers sweating in the heat
Now faded like the cotton, ghosts wrapped in white sheets

Sometimes dreams go nowhere but I feel like I’ve been travelling
When I try to trace the thread but the stitches come unravelling
Sometimes there is no ending, just something standing still
On a long-deserted island with an empty cotton mill
Someone had a vision that rose out of the steam
To bring the place to glory, a developer’s dream
They changed all the windows, but the new ones have gone blind
From staring at the highway with nothing on their mind

Sometimes dreams go nowhere but I feel like I’ve been travelling
When I try to trace the thread but the stitches come unravelling
It takes time to make it work, it takes work to make it right
It takes both to keep somebody warm for more than just one night

The sky was grey and heavy remembering the storm
Soft and thick like sweaters that had kept the farmers warm
It’s been twice a lifetime since I was eighteen years old
My pockets lined with secrets that haven’t yet been told

EVERYBODY KNOWS

White picket fence, three kids, two dogs, one car sitting in the yard
Long days of working hard, we pay off our credit card
Nobody asks me why you’re never home at dinnertime
Or why I buy so much wine, they know that we’re doing fine

I don’t have to wear my shades on rainy days to hide that I’ve been crying
No dirty laundry on our line, just flowers and a Welcome sign
Down at the grocery store I don’t have to ignore the talk wherever I go
I can look them in eye, ‘cause everybody knows

Driving to hockey practice and keeping our act up for the kids
Do all the things we always did before everything hits the skids
I think it’s great that you can stay out late with your high school friend
I don’t count the nights you spend running ‘round and playing pretend

When you don’t hurry home I don’t worry over things like one-night stands
I know that you’re a real good man and that you are in good hands
Neighbourhood grapevine’s buzzing, including her husband, as the story goes
You might as well face it tonight, ‘cause everybody knows

When you don’t hurry home I don’t worry over things like one-night stands
I know you’re a real good man and that you are in good hands
But if the door is locked and outside there are boxes of your books and clothes
You can ask anybody why, ‘cause everybody knows
The light’s on at her place tonight, and everybody knows
 

SATISFIED

On a hill overlooking the town
We spent ten years looking down
Built a home, and let it fall to the ground
No love left inside

On the floor laid with our four hands
Stands the latest of your one-night stands
Remind her to water my plants
And keep them satisfied

After all of the ink has dried
After all of the tears are cried
After you undo the knot we tied
I hope you’re satisfied

I know the kids don’t want to be
In this cramped, damp apartment with me
They miss their friends and their cable TV
To keep them occupied

They say they’re really angry with you
Given time, they’ll likely hate me too
But there’s only so much I can do
To make them satisfied

After all of the ink has dried
After all of my tears have been cried
After you undo the knot we tied
I hope you’re satisfied

Divide all the times that we shared
Subtract acting like you cared
Add a dash of life’s not fair
Our troubles multiplied

No matter how we do the math
You always get the better half
I’d never seen our lawyer laugh
Instantly gratified

After all of the ink has dried
After all of the tears I cried
After you undo the knot we tied
I hope you’re satisfied

At the end of the day I can say I tried
To keep you satisfied

THE THERAPIST

I call with your appointment hoping you’ll pick up the phone
Trace the letters on your casefile when I work late alone
You sink into the sofa and you tell me you’re not sleeping
And you talk about your parents and the company that you’re not keeping
You tell me you’ve been dealing with anger and frustration
And you can’t feel if you’re healing and you stopped your medication
And all the while I’m thinking that a doctor should be selfless
I’m a shrink but I am shrinking, I should help but I am helpless
And we know that we can do this, and we’ve had this conversation
There’s a happy ending to this if we both have patience
But loneliness is vicious and I know that this is scary
And I can’t grant your wishes but I’ll be your one hour fairy

I chew on my pencil and you share your secret fears
We sit awhile in silence drawing blanks and moving nearer
For once there is no question we both know that this is wrong
But when therapy’s in session love is sixty minutes long
A moment’s hesitation at the pictures on my desk
A dozen pink carnations that were sent while they were fresh
And when we reach our conclusion I smooth my wrinkled skirt
And we book your next appointment and you button up your shirt
And we know we can’t undo this, and we’ve had this conversation
There must be an ending to this, we can’t both be patients
But loneliness is vicious and I know that this is scary
And I can’t grant your wishes but I’ll be your one hour fairy

TRANSMISSION

I have a heart in need of a traffic cop
Because it doesn’t know when to start or how to stop
I can hear the new noises it’s been making
It keeps on beating faster when it should be braking
My poor body is broken down and rusted
Ignoring all the signs I should have trusted
Taking one-way streets in wrong directions
With the windows down, littering affection

I can never let a good thing last
Slipping gears, driving way too fast
The same old parts in a new position
A stick shift heart with a bad transmission

On this trip I will take the driver’s side
You are strapped in shotgun for the ride
I don’t know why you put your faith in me
Distracted by the highway scenery

You don’t know all the roads I’ve chosen
The bridge between us is already frozen
They sing about it on the radio
Parking lots where the dark hearts go
Burning their rubber and squealing tires
Nighttime collisions and engine fires

I can never let a good thing last
Slipping gears, driving way too fast
The same old parts in a new position
A stick shift heart with a bad transmission

NOT THE ONE

To hold your hand through good times and the rough
To make you smile when the going gets too tough
To be there in the darkness when the hardest day is done
We both know that I am not the one

To be as sweet as icing on the cake
To erase the lines when you make a mistake
To fill your glass with gladness at the setting of the sun
We both know that I am not the one

I’m not the one you reach for in the night
She looks like me but the timing isn’t right
She's someone I’m not free to be
Who can love you unconditionally
Who can mend the damage done with a goodbye
I tried, but you know that I am not the one

When I met you I could tell you were a catch
And you didn't see the strings I had attached
We lit a fire while trying to hide a spark
Only we can see the ashes and where they left their mark

I’m not the one you reach for in the night
She looks like me but the timing isn’t right
She's someone I’m not free to be
Who can love you unconditionally
Who can mend the damage done with a goodbye
I tried, but you know that I am not the one
When another pretty girl catches your eye
When you’re ready to give love another try
Let her in and hold her, do the things we couldn’t do
And remind me that I’m not the one for you

I’m not the one you reach for in the night
She looks like me but the timing isn’t right
She's someone I’m not free to be
Who can love you unconditionally
Who can mend the damage done with a goodbye
I tried, but you know that I am not the one

ROTTEN APPLES

Another breaking day of more heartbreaking news
The legends on the a-list being asked to pay their dues
Brothers and sisters taking shit and abuse so we can be amused

Throwing sticks and stones breaking bones with dirty jokes
Fighting little fires with mirrors and smoke
They’ll still be cashing cheques even in the aftermath
Of us throwing all our babies out with the bath
Do we wipe the writing off the wall
And keep eating these rotten apples as they fall?

Another line is crossed every time somebody gets hurt
But the lines are all buried in industry dirt
Do we pull all of our punches to hang on to the hits
That we loved when we were kids
Or will we wipe the writing off the wall 
And keep eating these rotten apples as they fall?

Will we listen, will we learn, lay down conditions and terms
Spit out all the poison, and get rid of the worms

Hollywood Boulevard’s got a lot of dead wood tonight
Snuff out the stars and turn out the lights
How low will we go for the sake of the show?
Will we give up what we feel for the sake of what we know
Or will we wipe the writing off the wall
And keep eating these rotten apples as they fall?

ONE-TRICK PONY

Once I was the apple of your eye
Though I couldn’t win your ribbon if I tried
Happy eating sugar from your hand
Didn’t feel the burning of your brand
It was easy to believe you really cared
The gentle touch, the way you’d brush my hair
Didn’t feel the saddle on my back
Didn’t hear the whip until it cracked

And I don’t know why I let you take the lead
Or why I thought you’d be a different breed
Now I know it was all for show
And you never needed me
So tonight this one-trick pony is running free

This old grey mare’s been carrying the load
And I’m tired of dragging baggage down the road
Maybe I’ve done everything I’m able
Go find some new ponies for your stable
'Cause the young ones can jump higher and run faster
Leave me here to grieve in greener pasture
With a lesson for the new ones that come ‘round
On the fate of pretty ponies when they go down

And I don’t know why I let you take the lead
Or why I thought you’d be a different breed
Now I know it was all for show and you never needed me
So tonight this one-trick pony is running free

Maybe it would kill you to be kinder
If you could see the damage through your blinders
Lose the race before you even start
You can mend your fences, but you can’t mend broken hearts

And I don’t know why I let you take the lead
Or why I thought you’d be a different breed
Now I know it was all for show and you never needed me
So tonight this one-trick pony is running free

AGE 38

It’s midnight on Sunday, I should be in bed
But I filled up my teacup, busy thoughts in my head
I’m not one for wasting my nights at the club
But there could be more than laundry, lunches, and Netflix, and a soak in the tub
I go to a spin class that I can’t afford
Changing gears, making up for the years that I spent doing chores
When you’re looking to date at age 38
Single mother at home and up late
Looking for love or just a friend on the phone
Try to find each other, try to not spend this night alone

How can I compete with age 25?
I was almost in high school, when these girls weren’t even alive
It’s like watching a pageant of self-made beauty queens
Flawless and glossy, on the cover of Women’s Health Magazine
I look at my body, examine my scars
And I wonder if anyone out there still makes love in the dark

When you’re looking to date at age 38
Single mother at home and up late
Looking for love or just a friend on the phone
Try to find each other, try not to spend this night alone

My little guy's sleeping in the bunk bed we built
My whole world wrapped up in a SpongeBob quilt
I say he’s my whole world but there might be space
For this newly-divorced dad from Newport with a kind smiling face
So I’ll send him a message, see if I break the ice
He likes long walks and movies, so we'll talk
A night out would be nice

When you’re looking to date, at age 38
A single mother at home and up late
Looking for love or just a friend on the phone
Try to find each other, try not to spend this night alone

OTHER PEOPLE'S WIVES

You love to act, but I can’t act my age
And I’ve got no taste for curtains unless they’re hanging on a stage
I’ve got no mind for fashion and I don’t do my hair
I’m not the kind of girl inclined to care
I don’t know the names of garden flowers
And I don’t make good coffee,
I don’t have those superpowers
Dust and dishes settle ‘round our place
And your work shirts have more wrinkles than my face

I know I'm not like other people’s wives
With supper set to simmer as they work their 9-to-5
They don’t waste time writing songs about other people’s lives
I know I’m not like other people’s wives

I never feel I am where I should be
My woes and worries would be through if there were two of me
One to work out in the cold burying the dead
The other making love and baking bread

I know I'm not like other people’s wives
With supper set to simmer as they work their 9-to-5
They don’t waste time writing songs about other people’s lives
I know I’m not like other people’s wives

I can’t hold a mop and broom
While I play guitar down in the music room
Get the groceries, change the bed
No, I’m no use to you when there’s a song stuck in my head

Darling, I won’t blame you if you go
If you want to buy a ticket to another woman’s show
But before you do I ask one little thing
Just sit a while and smile when I sing

I know you’re not like other people’s men
Who only say I love you every now and then
Although there is no contest you’re still a perfect ten
I know you’re not like other people’s men

WINDMILL

I played my granddad's old guitar when no one was around
I studied Chet and tried to get close to that gentle sound
The piano keys were company in a world of black and white
Broadway shows and Billy Joel in the glow of basement light
Over time the tunes and rhymes became my greatest joys
Felt I belonged in the world of songs
Making stories and making noise
I get to spend my time with friends spread all across the land
Who helped me write, way late at night, and welcomed me into the band

When you find the thing that makes you sing and gets you out of bed
That takes away cares of the day and leaves a song instead
Give up the race, find dreams to chase and follow where they lead
Don’t waste your time waiting like a windmill for the breeze

Noah waited forty days, it took me forty years
To find the courage and the words for the music in my ears
No one’s getting younger, but it’s not too late to start
If you can find a beat that moves your feet and lines up with your heart

When you find the thing that makes you sing and gets you out of bed
That wipes away cares of the day and leaves a song instead
Give up the race, find dreams to chase, and follow where they lead
Don’t waste your time waiting like a windmill for the breeze