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US LITTLE KIDS
by suzzy
i get so sad just thinking of you,
all the good times we had, i hurt
your feelings, you hurt my feelings,
but we had fun, too, that’s not so
bad. is there a reason, these things
happen. like a snow day in july.
sometimes i might cry, but then i
snicker. that’s the see saw you and i.
see saw, us little kids, see saw, look
what we did. watching the sun go
down on a game, i wish we made up.
wherever you are, i hope you’re
happy. is that a stupid thing to say.
it's the simple thing that matters,
perhaps i'll find you another way.
oooh, us little kids… i feel lonely
off and on now but didn’t i when
i was younger, stand in my shadow
without a friendship, little worried
what i'd become. see saw, us little kids…
ONLY YOU KNOW HOW
by terre
did you ever ask yourself how
did we get here, floating on a
sea of sorrow, nothing else is
clear. you might be a puppy dog
and you might be a cow, only love
can save you and only you know
how. did you ever take a walk
to the edge of town, back before
the airplanes came and took the
buildings down. when this life is
over, then it will be now, only love
can save you and only you know how.
will you accept an apology from the
bottom of my heart, and will you
send me a letter from the bottom
of your deep blue see. did you ever
think that i would sing a song like
this, asking all these questions
when all i want’s a kiss. and when
the day is over and you put down
your plow, only love can save you
and only you know how.
NO SHOES
by paranoid larry, joe shapiro
and neil murphy
i had no shoes and i complained
until i met a man who had no feet
that’s really beat i had no feet and i
complained until i met a man who
had no knees that was his disease
i had no knees and i complained until
i met a man and you know what he
had no butt i had no butt and i
complained about it all and then
i met a man who had no balls i had
no balls and i complained until i met
a man who had no guts no balls no
butt and now no guts i had no guts
and i complained until i met a man
who had no heart the most important
part i had no heart and i complained
i did not understand and then i met
a man who had no hands i had no hands
and i complained until i met a man who
was a wreck he had no neck i had no
neck and i complained until i met a
man who had no chin some folks lose
and some folks win i had no chin and i
complained until i met a man who had no
nose that really blows i had no nose and i
complained until i met a man who
never cries he had no eyes i had no eyes
and i complained until i met a man who
felt no pain he had no brain i had no
brain and i complained until i met a man
who had no head as good as dead i had no
head and i complained until i met a man
who had no hair there was nothing there
i had no hair and i complained until i met
a man who had no hat picture that not even
a hat i had no hat and i complained until i
met a man who had no sky no reason why
i had no sky and i complained until
i met a man who had no stars no
venus or mars and not any stars
i had no stars and i complained until
i met a man who had no god that’s
rather odd i had no god and I com-
plained until i met a man who had
no faith nothing just in case i had
no faith and i complained until i
met a man who had no love nothing
to dream of i had no love and i com-
plained until i met a man who had
no hope at the end of his rope i had
no hope and i complained until i met
a man who had no luck that really
sucks i had no luck and i complained
that i had nothing left to lose and
then i met a man who had no shoes.
MOONSWEPT
by suzzy
with us, its isness was obvious, and
the ones that followed us, they knew
of it, too. but the broomstick fell
behind the moon. it used to be a
campfire, songs sung around a circle
of rocks. but now it’s the burnt heart
of a small witch. we scattered and tried
to tell it, each with different words.
agitated, we were heard. we had funny
disagreements. but oh, when the moon
came up all we saw was broom. all we saw
was the broom. moons wept. we were
moonswept.
FAMILY OF BONES
words by suzzy, music by maggie
these tiny bones, i lay them on my life.
they are you, and you, and you.
arranged to be the skeleton of love,
i sit inside them at attention, like
a dog waiting for its owner to return.
a garbage truck could flatten them into
the road, or a wind could scatter them
apart. as fragile as the remnants of a
bird, without the guts, without the worm.
with rain into the gutter they could flush
away, and there everything i love would
go. these pearl bones, i wish they could
be safe. so few, hung together with a thin
string or something. a family of bones.
THE NAUGHTY LADY
OF SHADY LANE
by sid tepper and roy c bennett
the naughty lady of shady lane has hit the
town like a bomb. the back fence gossip
ain’t been this good since mabel ran off
with tom. our town was peaceful and quiet
before she came on the scene. the lady
has started a riot, disturbing the suburban
routine. the naughty lady of shady lane
has the town in a whirl. the naughty lady
of shady lane, me oh my oh what a girl.
bum budda-bum bum-bum bum, bum
budda-bum bum-bum. you should see how
she carries on with her admirers galore.
she must be giving them quite a thrill the
they flock to her door. She throws those
come-hither glances at every tom, dick and
joe. when offered some liquid refreshment,
the lady never, never says no. the naughty
lady of shady lane has the town in a whirl.
the naughty lady of shady lane, me oh my
oh what a bum budda-bum bum-bum bum,
bum budda-bum bum-bum. the things
they’re trying to pin on her will hold much
water, i’m sure. beneath the powder and
fancy lace, there beats a heart sweet and
pure. she just needs someone to change
her and she’ll be nice as can be. if you’re
in the neighborhood, stranger, you’re
welcome to drop in and see the naughty
lady of shady lane, so delightful to hold,
the naughty lady of shady lane, so
delectable, quite respectable, and she’s
only nine days old.
LONG BEFORE
by lucy wainright roche
oh, i think you’re lost to me
just a stranger i will never
see. i drove away, i walked
out that door, but you had
left us long before. the year
we spent there was strange
and slow, like all the cars in
that rare southern snow, we
ventured out without a plan
or fear, probably not a great
idea. it's not about the things
i wanted then, i've come to see
now that i couldn’t have used
them, still all the same it’s
true that even now, i'd like
to talk to you somehow. i'd
want to find out if you’ve
heard that song. i'd want to
tell you mine are coming along,
your family’s well and healthy
i suppose, i'm really curious to
know. in the dimness of those
last days’ gloom, while i was
packing up the spare bedroom,
you came and offered me a solemn
word about a voice you’d often
heard. it was a moment when i
saw inside, a little break from
all that stoic pride. do i think
now that this would ring a bell.
you know i couldn’t even tell you.
oh, my friend, you’re lost to me,
just a stranger i will never see.
PIGGY MASK
by terre and suzzy
the fantasy is crumbling, the piggy
mask isn’t working for me anymore.
i’d like you to think of me as somebody
you’d put your teeth in for. lipitor,
boxer shorts, snoring and the waterfall,
what more am i asking for? finally, it’s
crumbling, the piggy mask. nice meeting
you here after all. i'd like you to think
of me as somebody you’d put your pants
on for. lexipro, lots of laughs, lovely
in your dreaming eyes, leaving you the
way you are. and while you sleep, old
butterfly, shall i go to the mirror that hides
the medicine and holds the pig within?
the cabinet is crumbling, the piggy mask
isn’t working for me anymore. i'd like me to
think of you as someone who i’d put my face
on for. primrose oil, inner soles, soaking up
the lavender, what more are you asking for?
HUH
words by suzzy, music by terre
how come, why, who was, what the…
huh? let's forget the whole…oh, i
don’t know. it’s just that…so big deal,
what’s it to ya, let’s forget the whole…
oh, i don’t know. i'm not signing…hey,
so what, i kicked it, let’s forget the
whole…oh i don’t know. stupid, stipu…
no way, go forth unfettered. you get
outa…look i forgot why, is this even
happening? crawling on my…why? no,
but, can’t help it, let’s forget the
whole…oh, i don’t know. look buddy,
stay back, what? the truth hurts, let’s
forget the whole…oh, i don’t know. it’s
a no go, bad boy, i’d like to be a nice old,
duh…let’s forget the whole…oh, i don’t
know. look, this is not that, don’t gimme,
who do you, let’s forget the whole…oh,
i don’t know. you’re kinda, well, cute.
what does that…? let’s forget the whole…
i don’t know.
STOP PERFORMING
words by terre, music by maggie
the very mention of your name
and we hear your voice and when
you danced we came clapping no
choice. i in my dress and my man
in his pants, yes, yes, yes. you
have slurped up the moon with
your mouth and you’ve sent all
the loons flying south. there’s
no more room in the spaces you
went, boom, boom, boom.
stop performing, won’t you?
before i die laughing, please sit
still. listen to the sound of space
you won’t fill with your many talents
gallantly streaming tears down my
cheeks, oh stop, please stop before
i die, i’d love to see you stop
performing before i die.
GUNG HO
by terre
gung ho is a word I know means
things are just beginning. birth
of a child, the wildness of youth
and the turf in the first inning.
coffee in the morning or chinese
herb tea, the former is the one
works best for me, you can’t be
gung ho if yer hung over, broken-
hearted, beaten down, eatin’ crow,
mr. brown, gung ho. gung ho is a
tale that’s told with a see ya later
to the fold. got my guitar the
farther I go and I do mean to be
bold. playin’ in the subway or a
frat party, i ain’t gonna be nobody’s
secretary, you can’t be gung ho if
yer hung over… gung ho, i’m just a
ridin’ high, gung ho, i’m not your
ordinary guy, gung ho, just don’t
ask me why i’m doin anything that
i’m doin’, doin’, doin’, gung ho.
gung ho is the thing i got when the
girl she got me goin’, birth of a
child, the wildness of youth, but the
bankbook isn’t showin’. howm’ i gonna
get to where i’m ‘spose to be, a little
common sense would be a good thing
for me, you can’t be gung ho if yer
hung over… gung ho i was a ridin’ high
gung ho, i had me a pie in the sky,
gung ho, now i’m not sure if i am
doin’ anything that i’m doin’, doin,
doin, gung ho. gung ho is the way
i was when things were just
beginning, birth of a child, the
wildness of youth and the very
thought of winning. everybody said
that i would be ok, not one of them
standing to this day. you can’t
be gung ho if yer hung over…
INSTEAD I CHOOSE
words by suzzy, music by terre
i had that chance to fall in love. the
life dance around myself, as if i am
the shadow, nearly ended. but i never
took the chance. instead i chose to
stay in a nutshell and be a nut.
i had that chance to fall in love, the
thing is, i didn’t think it was worth
it anymore. responsibilities spoke
louder, i guess. instead i chose to
walk the other way, and be here.
i had that chance to leave this mess,
but isn’t it funny how i stayed put,
saddled up and harnessed, caught horse.
instead i chose to call it love, this
hard drive. i am riding into the sunset.
SEPTEMBER ELEVENTH AT
THE SHAMBHALA CENTER
by terre (for namgya)
good morning baby, the sky is your
friend. when you’re scared, look up to
the big no end. i hear your voice, don’t
lose your nerve, i hear your voice, you
are the one who is singing and i am the
listener. good morning children, whatever
you build will be strong if you find your
way in the long storm. i hear your
voice, don’t lose your nerve, i hear
your voice, you are the one who is
singing and i am the listener. good
morning grownups, remember the day,
also let it go the way of the big no.
i hear your voice, don’t lose your nerve,
stay if you ran, you are the one who is
singing and i am the listener.
JESUS SHAVES
by paranoid larry
jesus shaves, joins corporate
america, get’s laid off, grows his
beard back, stays up late, sees a
tv commercial about being a welder,
makes a phone call. jesus shaves,
goes on an interview, does real well,
he’s got a way with people, two years
on he’s still an apprentice, but not for
long, it’s graduation. jesus shaves,
put’s his best suit on, get’s a certificate,
makes it official, now he’s a welder,
wears a big helmet, and twice a week now,
jesus shaves. blessed are the ones
who make peace, blessed are the ones
who scrape by, blessed are the ones
living holy lives and here’s to the rest
of us who try. jesus shaves on sunday
morning, decides to go fishing after
going to church, it’s wintertime, so he
walks on water, digs a whole in the ice
and fishes for perch. jesus shaves the
scales off the fishes, has a few fillets
and a couple of brewskies, thinks about
the girl, magdelena, in payroll, decides that
he’s gonna ask her out for dinner. jesus
shaves for work on monday, goes to the
office, gathers his courage, he’s still
not sure just how he’s gonna ask her,
walks over to her desk and sees a picture
of her boyfriend. blessed are the ones…
she says hello, how are you this morning?
he asks if she knows if it’ll snow or rain.
she notices him looking at the picture on
her desktop, she says it’s her cousin who’s
passed away. he say’s that’s great, she
looks at him funny, he says he didn’t mean
that, she says it’s okay, and then she smiles
and they both start laughing, and that’s
when he knows it’s his lucky day. jesus
shaves, smiling in the mirror, magdelena
is saying that they gotta hurry, they’ll be
late for work and the school bus is coming,
but their daughter likes watching as
jesus shaves. blessed are the ones…
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