During the COVID-19 pandemic, I have been recording music for online services of my local Unitarian-Universalist congregation. This congregation is lay led, meaning there is no minister, but members of the congregation plan all the services and deliver all the sermons. I use this one for an autumn-equinox service, during which I gave comments on the theme of Seeds of Harvest. The song was written and originally recorded by Neil Young.

Here are the lyrics:

Harvest Moon
by Neil Young

VERSE 1: 
Come a little bit closer
Hear what I have to say
Just like children sleepin’
We could dream this night away.
But there’s a full moon risin'
Let’s go dancin in the light
We know where the music’s playin'
Let’s go out and feel the night.

CHORUS:
Because I’m still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I’m still in love with you
On this harvest moon.
 
VERSE 2: 
When we were strangers
I watched you from afar
When we were lovers
I loved you with all my heart.
But now it’s gettin’ late
And the moon is climbin’ high
I want to celebrate
See it shinin' in your eye.

CHORUS:
Because I’m still in love with you
I want to see you dance again
Because I’m still in love with you
On this harvest moon.

Harvest Moon

During the COVID-19 pandemic, I have been recording music for online services of my local Unitarian-Universalist congregation. This congregation is lay led, meaning there is no minister, but members of the congregation plan all the services and deliver all the sermons. I use this one for an autumn-equinox service, during which I gave comments on the theme of Seeds of Harvest. The song was written and originally recorded by Pink Floyd.

Here are the lyrics:

Wish You Were Here
by Pink Floyd

VERSE 1: 
So, so you think you can tell,
Heaven from Hell, blue sky from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail, 
A smile from a veil,
Do you think you can tell?

VERSE 2:
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts,
Hot ashes for trees, hot air for a cool breeze, 
Cold comfort for change, 
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

VERSE 3:
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, 
year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here!

Wish You Were Here

This is an instrumental version of the song Rún, by the Nordic folk group SKÁLD. I recorded it for background of a moving meditation that I am soon to facilitate, as part of a workshop on runic practices for self-care. The lyrics of the chorus list the names of the runes of Elder Futhark. Click the following to see the video of SKÁLD's version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9NIBZfVBW4

Rún

Written for and performed at the Cabaret of the Valencia 9 Statistics conference. Such to the tune of Huey "Piano" Smith's "Rockin' Pneumonia and the Boogie Woogie Flu." The title, here, refers to two research areas in statistical inference: decision theory and Bayesian analysis. The latter traces its origin to Thomas Bayes, an 18th-century English minister. The lyrics drop the names of several prominent modern researchers, and allude to technical concepts such as "inverse probability," "shrinkage estimation," "reference priors," "admissibility," and "Markov Chain Monte Carlo (MCMC) computation."

Decision Pneumonia and the Bayesian Flu

I wanna analyze whatever I see
And I use inverse probability
Ol’ Tom Bayes has got a hold on me too
I got decision pneumonia and the Bayesian flu

I wanna dominate a decision rule
So I keep shrinking like a crazy fool
Ol’ Charles Stein has got a hold on me too
I got decision pneumonia and the Bayesian flu

I pull a reference prior off of the shelf
And let the data go an speak for itself
Jose Bernardo’s got a hold on me too
I got decision pneumonia and the Bayesian flu

Rockin’ on admissibly
Larry Brown’s the man who knows the way to see
And if you want to get it all from good company
Well, just head down to the bar to hang with Ed and Jim B.
Yeah, while you’re waiting for convergence of your MCMC
Just head down to the bar to hang with Ed and Jim B.

We’re rockin’ out it’s gonna stay
The whole world’s here to go the Bayesian way
Yeah, we gotta jump and shout and have a cabaret
And we all lift a glass and drink a toast to Jose
Yeah, the whole world’s here to go the Bayesian way
And we all lift a glass and drink a toast to Jose

I wanna set it up exchange-abl-y
Then I can do it all observ-abl-y
Young DiFinetti’s got a hold on me too 
I got decision pneumonia and the Bayesian flu

I wanna analyze whatever I see
And I use inverse probability
Ol’ Tom Bayes has got a hold on me too
I got decision pneumonia and the Bayesian flu

Decision Pneumonia And The Bayesian Flu

Written and recorded as a Christmas present to my kids' grandma (a.k.a. my mom), featuring clips of the kids themselves, Thea (age 6) and Robbie (age 3). The lyrics refer to some of the kids' names of things, favorite foods,  imaginary places, favorite animals, and other products of their imaginations.

I’ll See You On The Moon

(Hi, Grandma! Hi, Grandma!)

I’ll see you on the moon. I’ll see you on the moon.
We can ride on a rocket-ship and count stars all afternoon.

(Hey, Grandma! I can run away from grizzly bears.)

Let’s climb on a rocket and go to my blue house.
(4-3-2-1-0. Blast off!!)
Up in the air, we’ll have a picnic to share.
We’ll have our shoes and our helmets and our underwear.

(Hey, Grandma! I can run very fast, and when I see a grizzly bear coming close to me I will just run faster.)

There are bedrooms and games to play up at my blue house.
Like “Skate on a Pingo” and “Elephant Land”
When it’s time to sleep, we’ll wear our pants-tails to bed;
Then for breakfast eat pancakes, and hot dogs in bread.

(A pants-tail: you put on one pants, and then you have a tail behind you.)

I’ll see you on the moon. I’ll see you on the moon.
We can ride on a rocket-ship and count stars all afternoon.

(A Bobo monster has a round head, and they eat kids(!), so kids haf’ta hide from Bobo monsters.)

I’ll see you on the moon. I’ll see you on the moon.
We can float like butterflies on a pink hot air balloon.

(Owls can see in the dark, and they can sleep in the day, but they don’t like the days; they can’t see in the day, they see in the night.)

Let’s sit on the porch, out front of my red house.
(Listen! Can you hear? There are owls out there!)
Whoo-whoo! Whoo-whoo! Hee-hee! Hee-hee!
A great horned owl has come to join us for tea!

(Now the horses: they can run, trot; horses can trot very fast!)

I have so many pets who live up at my red house.
(I have lots of pets and lots of stuff!)
There are crickets and bears, and birds, a horse and coyote.
We all love to eat french fries and plates of spaghetti.

(Grandma, I like bulls behind a fence, but I don’t like bulls when I’m around all them because they can kick.)

I’ll see you on the moon. I’ll see you on the moon.
We float like butterflies in a pink hot air balloon.

(The volcano was so strong that it can blow down my house; the dragon got blowed down, too, and it didn’t blow down me!)

I’ll see you on the moon. I’ll see you on the moon.
We can climb on Grandma’s lap for a snuggle-hug cocoon.

I'll See You On The Moon

Written during a visit from my teenage niece and nephew, when "Aunt Joanna" (a.k.a. my sister) couldn't be there.

Dear Aunt Joanna

During the COVID-19 pandemic, I have been recording music for online services of my local Unitarian-Universalist congregation. This is my cover of a pretty old folk song. To me, it is a wonderful celebration of spring!

Here are the lyrics:

Garden Song
Dave Mallet

Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
All you need is a rake and hoe
And a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
‘Til the rains come tumbling down

Pulling weeds and picking stones
We are made of dreams and bones
Need a place to call my own
For the time is near at hand
Grain for grain, sun and rain
Find my way through nature’s chain
Tune my body and my brain
To the music of the land

Plant your rows straight and long
Temper them with prayer and song
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care
An old crow watching hungrily
From his perch in yonder tree
In my garden I’m as free
As that feathered thief up there

Garden Song

I put this together for my sister's birthday party. It has proven very handy to have around.

Happy Birthday

During the COVID-19 pandemic, I have been recording music for online services of my local Unitarian-Universalist congregation. I have come to think of this song as not only one of the great solo works of John Lennon, but a kind of modern-day UU hymn. I had a lot of fun writing an original guitar solo for it.

Here are the lyrics:

Imagine
John Lennon

Imagine there's no heaven 
It's easy if you try 
No hell below us 
Above us only sky 
Imagine all the people 
Living for today,  ah-ha 

Imagine there's no countries 
It isn't hard to do 
Nothing to kill or die for 
And no religion too 
Imagine all the people 
Living life in peace 

You, may say that I'm a dreamer 
But I'm not the only one 
I hope someday you'll join us 
And the world will live as one

Imagine no possessions 
I wonder if you can 
No need for greed or hunger 
A brotherhood of man 
Imagine all the people 
Sharing all the world 

You, may say that I'm a dreamer 
But I'm not the only one 
I hope someday you'll join us 
And the world will live as one

Imagine

During the COVID-19 pandemic, I have been recording music for online services of my local Unitarian-Universalist congregation. This congregation is lay led, meaning there is no minister, but members of the congregation plan all the services and deliver all the sermons. I'll use this one for a service I'm planning on the theme of earth-based spirituality. The song was originally recorded by Sweet Honey in the Rock.

Here are the lyrics:

Breaths
Lyrics adapted from the poem by Birago Diop
Music by Ysaye M. Barnwell

Listen more often to things than to beings
Listen more often to things than to beings
‘Tis the ancestors’ breath
When the fire’s voice is heard
‘Tis the ancestor’s breath
In the voice of the waters
Za--ah, whoosh, ahh, whoosh

Those who have died have never, never left
The dead are not under the earth
They are in the rustling trees
They are in the groaning woods
They are in the crying grass
They are in the moaning rocks
The dead are not under the earth

So, listen more often to things than to beings
Listen more often to things than to beings
‘Tis the ancestors’ breath
When the fire’s voice is heard
‘Tis the ancestor’s breath
In the voice of the waters
Za--ah, whoosh, ahh, whoosh

Those who have did have never, never left
The dead have a pact with the living
They are in the woman’s breast
They are in the wailing child
They are with us in our homes
They are with us in this crowd
The dead have a pact with the living

So, listen more often to things than to beings
Listen more often to things than to beings
‘Tis the ancestors’ breath
When the fire’s voice is heard
‘Tis the ancestor’s breath
In the voice of the waters
Za--ah, whoosh, ahh, whoosh

(Sung as a round)
Listen more often to things than to beings
Listen more often to things than to beings
‘Tis the ancestors’ breath
When the fire’s voice is heard
‘Tis the ancestor’s breath
In the voice of the waters
Za--ah, whoosh

Breaths

During the COVID-19 pandemic, I have been recording music for online services of my local Unitarian-Universalist congregation. This was a new song to me, which the speaker requested. I really enjoyed learning and recording it.

Note: Unfortunately, I encountered some technical problems with my microphone and the vocals came out a little muffled.

Here are the lyrics:

My Thanksgiving
Don Henley

Well, a lot of things have happened, since the last time we spoke 
Some of them are funny, and some of them ain’t no joke 
And I trust you will forgive me If I lay it on the line,  
I always thought you were a friend of mine. 
And sometimes I think about you,
I wonder how you’re doing now, and what you’re going through. 

Cause the last time I saw you, we were playing with fire,  
We were loaded with passion, and a burning desire.
For every breath, for every day of living, this is m--y thanksgiving.

Now the trouble with you and me my friend, is the trouble with this nation 
Too many blessings, too little appreciation,  
Now I know that kind of notion, well it just ain’t cool,
So send me back to Sunday school.
Cause I’m tired of waiting for reason to arrive,
It’s too long we’ve been living these unexamined lives 

Cause I got great expectations, I got family and friends 
I got satisfying work, I got a back that bends,
For every breath, for every day of living, this is m--y thanksgiving.

And have you noticed that an angry man, can only get so far 
Until he reconciles the way he thinks things ought to be, with the way things are. 

Here in this fragmented world, I still believe,
In learning how to give love, and how to receive it,
And I would not be among those to abuse this privilege;
Sometimes you get the best light from the burning bridge.
And I don’t mind saying that I still love it all;
I wallowed in the springtime, now I’m welcoming the fall. 
 
For every moment of joy, for every hour of fear 
For every winding road that brought me here 
For every breath, for every day of living, this is m--y thanksgiving.
 
For every one who helped me start,  
And for everything that broke my heart 
For every breath, for every day of living, this is m--y thanksgiving.

My Thanksgiving

I am a music hobbyist who is grateful for the chances I get to dabble in recording. Some originals, some covers.

Dreem Deceever

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