by Rob Carlson
Gifts are for the giver; I will give you mine
Apples made of silver, huckleberry wine
If you'll come float with me - out across the Bay
And watch the sunlight shining low at the closing of the day
Look yonder at what I see - damned if it ain't Katie, calling to me
I wish that I could see the things that she can see
When I'm riding to Nantucket and I'm looking for company
Some friends have fallen from me at the passing of the time
As some have turned to silver, some have turned to wine
And I sometimes find my self alone sailing out to sea
On a boat with ballast of the past and sails of what may be.
Look yonder at what I see - damned if it ain't Katie, calling to me
I wish that I could see the things that she can see
When I'm riding to Nantucket and I'm looking for company.
Whaling men they come sailing home with talk of places I never known
The sound of brogans on the cobblestones takes me back to shining long
ago.
Someone sent a lady to live with all my days
A home town girl to share in my homemade ways
And she can smile like the rays of the sunlight slanting in the afternoon
She leaves me shaking like a holy roller in the fullness of the moon.
I first saw Rob Carlson and Jon Gailmor as a duo at Passim in Cambridge
around 1973. They were funny, and I'd never heard so many great songs
in a single show, before or since. We crossed paths a few times on the
circuit (including stints in North Conway and in St. Croix).
Winter Thoughts on Summer Love
© Chuck Kruger, 1980
Ooh, rainy weather … draining all my energy
Wishing you were more a woman than the pretty girl you seem to be
Ooh, red horizon … I wish my heart would follow me
Instead of getting dizzy in the path of every passing fantasy
Is it too much to ask to find one honest woman with two feet on the ground?
Or do I have to go up and down like I'm stuck on a goddamn merry-go-round?
Ooh, winds of winter … blowing through my empty home
Sitting by the firelight, writing through the night and into dawn
But if I work at falling in love, I fall right out again
And if you say let it happen by itself, well I'll ask you who and when
Ooh, gotta get a move on … I'm off again and travelling far
And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll forget about the things I think you are.
In 1980 I bought a house, had no furniture to speak of, living alone,
and winter was coming on. November always has a forbidden tone to it.
Snow is its release.
by Jon Gailmor
A taste or a sound sometimes turns me around and I go tripping down through
the years
And quicksilver sunlight illumines like tintypes as GI when I was just
a little boy.
Richard and me built a house in a tree and we swore we would always be
friends
I was small, I could cry then but I thought I'd never die there in GI
when I was
And then in July when the carnival came to town
Merry-go-round going round, going up and down
Gazing past the edge of town atop the Ferris wheel
Out to where the fields roll forever and ever
One step was done and the other one begun there inGI
See the people sitting in the choir singing "Alleluia-yah"
brother
Jesus saved the sinner, how 'bout you go save a few?
My parents were something they called Presbyterian
So I must have been one, too.
And it all seems so pure now, so faded and obscure now
I'm not really sure what I saw;
Other times, other places or haunted by the faces of GI
This song is from the Carlson-Gailmor album entitled Peaceable Kingdom,
which is definitely on my "desert island" list. It sums up the
growing up process quite nicely for many of my g-g-generation, I bet.
by John Prine
When I was a young boy my family would travel
Down to western Kentucky where my parents were born
There's an old backwoods town that I often remember
So many times that the memory is worn
And Daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County
Down by the Green River where paradise lay
I'm sorry my son but you're too late in asking
Mr. Peabody's coal train has hauled it away.
Sometimes we would travel on down the Green River
To an abandoned old prison down by Atree Hill
The air smelled like snakes and we'd shoot with our pistols
But empty pop bottles was all that we'd kill.
And Daddy won't you take me back to Muehlenberg County
Down by the Green River where paradise lay
I'm sorry my son but you're too late in asking
Mr. Peabody's coal train has hauled it away.
Then the coal company came with the world's largest shovel
And cut all the timber and torture the land
They dug for the coal until the Earth was forsaken
And they wrote it all down as the progress of man.
And Daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County
Down by the Green River where paradise lay
I'm sorry my son but you're too late in asking
Mr. Peabody's coal train has hauled it away.
When I die let my ashes flow down the Green River
Let my soul roll on up to the Rochester Dam
I'll be halfway to heaven with paradise waiting
About 5 miles away from wherever I am.
Oh Daddy won't you take me back to Muehlenberg County
Down by the Green River where paradise lay
I'm sorry my son but you're too late in asking
Mr. Peabody's coal train has hauled it away.
Chuck Kruger / Poem by Raymond Stineford
Mother, come here quickly, your boy is feeling low
Hold me like you used to, and never let me go
Sing One for the children, girls and I'll sing one for your love
And I'll sing one for the bell in heaven ringing on above in the sky
(You never know why)
Autumn she is gone now; winter has closed me in
I can't see where I'm going and I don't want to see where I've been
CHORUS
There's a lady lives the other side of town I've come to know
She's the kind of girl who greets you with her love and lets you go
And living is so easy with her love
CHORUS
Should it ever come to pass that she will see me never more
She'll come and touch me lightly, then she'll turn and lock the door
And living is so easy with her love
Doug Bennett came up with that wicked lick back in the Mirror Lake days. This song happened because I simply had to write something to use it on. Thanks, Doug.
Raymond Stineford wrote the wonderful poem. He was an English professor
of mine at Nasson College, he performed the marriage ceremony when I married
my first wife, and he's an occasional resident of Monhegan Island.
by Greg Brown
The whole kit and caboodle is in disrepair
There's no where to go that's not here
Little captains and cuckoos from here to Timbuktu
Are counting their dough in the mirror
Chorus:
Singing Rooty Toot Toot for the Moon
It's the biggest star I've ever seen
A pearl of wisdom, a slice of green cheese
Burning just like kerosene
He was just some young white kid, trying to sing tough and black
With gravel and spit in his voice
He laughed at the things we do, the Radio laughed too
I held up my arms to rejoice.
Chorus
So God Bless motorcycles and far out, heavy trifles
You know you can't memorize them
Hang your hat on your nose, don't hide in your clothes
Smile at someone, begin to begin.
Chorus
Some of us are primates, and some of us were classmates
And some of us were lovers in the Fall
There were periods of kindness, and periods of blindness
And periods that never came at all
I wish I had some of what Greg Brown was on when he wrote this. It's
truly the quintessential folk song of the last part of the 20th century;
because it's been passed through so many hands and added to along the
way, recalling how in earlier centuries, folk songs really were the equivalent
of newspapers today. I'm pretty sure that last verse was written by Rob
Carlson.
Recorded at Planet of The Tapes, that's the magic Martha Goodrich
on backing vocal, Roy Clark on piano, and I think Bruce Boege on lead
guitar.
© Chuck Kruger 1970
Happy Sam gave me a riddle then he made it a rhyme,
played me a fiddle then he made me smile; How do ya do now, Happy Sam?
Happy Sam told me his tale of woe, very sad
just lost his place to go, lost his dad; Oh won't you come home, Happy
Sam?
And he just Runs away and hides in the world of wizards as he rides in
my pocket
Waiting for a guide to heaven trying to decide just where he's been.
Happy Sam came to the house and he made it a home,
cooked me some chicken then he chewed on the bones So nice to know you
Happy Sam.
Happy Sam slept on the music box in my room,
I made him a pillow on my matchstick loom Let's have a nightcap, Happy
Sam.
And he just runs away cries on the pillow, weeping like a lonely meadow
willow
Wishing he could groove to the thrill of catching up to all the things
he is.
Happy Sam bought me some tonic from the Moxie Man,
taught me to whittle by the chestnut stand Told me Stories of his fatherland
Happy Sam Went to the city in my pocket with me
where he dug up sidewalk and planted a tree Left it growing there for
all the world to see
And he just glares at me with a "hey diddle-diddle" weeping
as he plays on his fiddle
Turning up my eyes right into a smile.
Happy Sam laid on me wisdom 'bout the happiness thing:
you can't love a woman 'til your friendship sings And tune up your bells
before you let them ring
Happy Sam Left on a coach among a midnight rain split without word because he couldn't be chained To a man who seemed to want the world explained
So I'll just live my life and see how the world will turn if I let it
be,
hoping someday I will plant a tree like Sam
And he will write a song that's all about me.
I set out to write a lullabye for the daughter of a friend. This is
what I wound up with, stuffed full of references and inside jokes. It
has connected with a few people in some special ways. The sheer quantity
of words can get in the way.
1978 Chuck Kruger
Mona comes around this way about three times a year
Looking for a place to hang her clothes
Spending all my money, making time with all my friends
Making memories everywhere she goes
But oh, Mona how your time is not your own
Making up for someone else's show
Oh, Mona how your time is not your own
Nobody seems to know.
When November skies are cloudy, rain and heartbreak coming down
Mona takes her memories out of town
Though there'll no doubt be another friend, another lonely town
Mona makes another country round
But oh, Mona how your time is not your own
Making up for someone else's show
Oh, Mona how your time is not your own
Nobody seems to know
She's known a lot of girls in many towns who think they've found a home
Trading daddy's name to settle down
And they're still alone and crying but their dreams are on the line
Sometimes in the evening they feel fine.
But oh, Mona says their time is not their own
Waking up for someone else's show
Oh, Mona how your time is not your own
Nobody seems to know.
by John Prine
We had an apartment in the city; me and Loretta like living there
It's been years since the kids have grown (lives of their own), left us
alone
John and Linda live in Omaha; Joey's somewhere on the road
And we lost Davey in the Korean War still don't know what for (doesn't
matter anymore)
Chorus:
Old trees just grow stronger and old rivers grow wilder every day
But old people just grow lonesome waiting for someone to say Hello in
There, Hello.
Now me and Loretta we don't talk much anymore;
he just sits and stares through the back door screen
And all the news just repeats itself Like some forgotten dream that we've
seen
Someday I'll go and call up Rudy - we worked together at the factory
But what'll I say when he asks what's new
"Nothing what's with you?" "Nothing' much to do."
Chorus
So if you're walking down the street sometime and you spot some hollow,
ancient eyes
Please don't pass them by and stare as if you didn't care Say Hello in
There
John Prine is one amazing writer. In case nobody's said it lately: Thank you John.
by Jackson Browne
Though Adam was a friend of mine, I did not know him well
He was alone into his distance, he was deep into his well
I could guess what he was laughing at, but I couldn't really tell
Now the story goes that Adam jumped, but I'm thinking that he fell.
Together we went wandering as he received a call
His destination India, but I had none at all
And I still remember laughing with our backs against the wall
So free of fear we never thought that one of us might fall.
I sit before my only candle, but it's so little light to find my way
Now this story unfolds before my candle
Which is shorter every hour as it reaches for the day
And I feel like a candle, in a way
I guess I'll get there, but I wouldn't say for sure.
When we parted, we were laughing still as our goodbyes were said
And I never heard from him again as each our lives we led
Except for once in someone else's letter that I read
Until I heard the sudden word that a friend of mine was dead
I sit before my only candle, like a pilgrim sits beside the way
Now this journey appears before my candle
Which is shorter every hour as it reaches for the day
And I feel like a candle, in a way
I guess I'll get there, but I wouldn't say for sure.
Though Adam was a friend of mine, I did not know him long
And when I stood myself beside him, I never thought I was as strong
Still, it seems he stopped his singing in the middle of his song
I guess I'm not the one to say I know, but I'm hoping he was wrong.
I sit before my only candle, but it's so little light to find my way
Now this story been laid before my candle
Like a song that's growing fainter the harder that I play
And I feel before I end, or fade away
I guess I'll get there, but I wouldn't say for sure.
© 1975 Chuck Kruger
Don't dote on me, I've got no problems
And don't watch me walking in the rain
And don't pay no mind to things I'm saying
And don't think this drinking is just to ease the pain.
Don't think I haven't found another
Don't think I'd waste my love on you
Don't talk about the things that matter
And don't make arrangements, you can always make do.
Don't you want to be happy, just like me?
Don't you want to be footloose and fancy- free?
Well get your jive in overdrive, and put your little rear in second gear.
I hope I've had enough of always
Nothing lasts and I ain't bolted down
I'll get myself a case of understanding
And drink it when I'm thirsty, I'll have to careful not to drown.
I thought I'd write something upbeat and positive, for a change. I think this song took me about 10 minutes to finish. Really did feel good to get it out.
© 1976 David Jeffers and Chuck Kruger
It turned like a switch; the light fell from your eyes
The love you thought would live forever now lay dead
You turned to face the window, and looked up at the sky
And a voice that came from deep inside you said,
Something's wrong, something's missing
It won't be long before I cry
So I might as well be kissing you goodbye
It's me I can't divide, it's you I can't complete
Although I never saw it quite like that until today
And a love I can't return is a love I can't repeat
Even so, it hurts me deep to have to say,
Something's wrong, something's missing
It won't be long before I cry
So I might as well be kissing you goodbye
We've both seen the loser's and the winner's end in love
And both of us have looked down from that lonely view above
And neither will admit to all the scars that never show
What can't be said, we seldom seem to know,
Something's wrong, something's missing
It won't be long before I cry
So I might as well be kissing you goodbye
You turned from the window, and looked across at me
Your eyes, like a camera, seemed to freeze our sorrow in a frame
Such distance in those eyes, but close you'll always be
It's gone, never be the same, no one's to blame.
Something's wrong, something's missing
It won't be long before I cry
So I might as well be kissing you goodbye.
Dave Jeffers brought me these verses pretty much complete, in search of the music. I added the words to the bridge. Larry Luddecke and Mike Burd added some nice chordal touches to the bridge. That's me on acoustic guitar solo.
© Chuck Kruger 1982
Lay your head down, take your rest
God will take you home when he thinks it best
Fight the good fight, and don't ask why
When the time comes your soul will fly away
Your body is dying piece by piece
Your heavenly heading: north by east
The course is straight and the way is clear
Final moments will be quite free of fear.
There's little to do now but think of happiest times
Cast off the last of your anger and dread,
And hold your hand in mine…
And go gently into that good night
Peace is the acceptance of the dying of the light
The body is just a crust, the soul moves along
And leaves a survivor to sing a sad but hopeful song.
by Rob Carlson
Sitting in the evening looking for a song to play
I'd like to think the island for a very lovely day
Everybody's napping when the moths come tapping on the darkened window
pane
Flying through the night toward the light in the window trying to come
in from the rain
Up against the glass looking for a passage to the bright and the laughing
flame
There are some things they can't see, they're a bit like you and me
It seems as if an island brings your best out by-and by
She'll send a little water when you think you've run dry
It's gonna take a little time and trouble but she'll always see you through
When city living's got you seeing double and you don't know what to do
She'll up and slip you something sweet and subtle and you wonder how she
knew
Well she may not watch the charts, but she's looking after you.
This is one of the tunes recorded at The Old Whaling Church in Edgartown
on Martha's Vineyard, Mass. The Vineyard is an island that has meant much
to me since I was a young 'un, body- surfing at South Beach. The weird
creaking noise you hear on the recording is very possibly old bones of
long dead sailors, trying to join in the song. Or it might be the leather
guitar strap that Jody crafted and gave to me. You decide.
by Billy Joel
When you look into my eyes and you see the crazy gypsy in my soul
It always comes a surprise that I feel my withered roots begin to grow
I have never had a place that I could call my very own
But that's alright my love, 'cause you're my home
When you touch my weary head and tell me everything will be alright
You say: "Use my body for your bed, and my love will keep you warm
throughout the night"
I will never be a stranger, I will never be alone - whenever we're together,
that's my home
Home could be the Pennsylvania Turnpike, Indiana's early morning rain
High up in the hills of California Home is just another word for you
If I travel all my life and I never get to stop and settle down
Ahs long as I have you by my side There's a roof above and good walls
all around
You're my castle, you're my cabin, you're my instant pleasure dome
I need you in my house, 'cause you're my home
A wonderful love song. References to Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Gordon Lightfoot in subsequent verses? Billy, u d man.
Frankie Laine
Up in the morning, out on the job
Work like the devil for my pay
While that Lucky Old Sun, he's got nothing to do
But roll around heaven all day
Fuss with my woman, toil with my kids
Work 'til I'm wrinkled and gray
But that Lucky Old Sun, he's got nothing to do
But roll around heaven all day
Good Lord above, don't you know I'm pining?
Tears are in my eyes.
Send down that cloud with the silver lining
Take me to paradise.
Show me that river, take me across
Wash all my troubles away
While that Lucky Old Sun, he's got nothing to do
But roll around heaven all day
My Mom got me to learn this one. Thanks, Mom.