March 10, 2014
Grover Anderson

Reviews:
Independent Clauses: http://independentclauses.com/little-chief-grover-anderson/

The Optimist - 2014

Track 3 from The Optimist
-----
Sleep is a luxury, til you’re next to me,
then I’d rather be your pillow.
Life used to be a bore, only hoping for
a sign that there is more than merely filling in the
days until we give it up, but I became unstuck
from that routine the day I met you. I’m
awake and living in the now, cause I’ve spent too much energy
worrying about the future.

Only heaven knows if I’ll be with you til the day I die,
but I’m gonna try.
There will be obstacles in the road,
I’ll go around them.
I’d like your permission to vow to never leave your side,
would you be satisfied?

It could feel right to marry you tonight,
but I know that you’d like to invite all our friends
and throw a big party and that’s
fine! Get your dress designed.
We can take our time,
cause it’s only a brand new life we’re starting.
Hope, innocent and plain, soon to be reclaimed,
I’ll hold you in my arms, I won’t forget this feeling that we
share. If it gets rough out there,
I’ll remember where my soul went flying
back when glances needed stealing.

Only heaven knows if I’ll be with you til the day I die,
but I’m gonna try.
There will be obstacles in the road,
I’ll go around them.
I’d like your permission to vow to always have your back,
could you go for that?

Every day I’ll look for a new reason to fall for you again.
Perfect is far out of my reach but I’ll always be your best friend.
We’ll start sharing our new life tomorrow, but tonight can I just have this dance?
Thank you for the chance…

Only heaven knows if I’ll be with you til the day I die,
but I’m gonna try.
There will be obstacles in the road,
we’ll go around them!
I’d like your permission to forever call you the one I love
…that would be enough

The Optimist

iTunes

Enough

Track 1 on Freight, Vol. 1
music & lyrics by Jimbo Scott & Grover Anderson
-----
He said, “Pick up your horn and you should blow it away, blow it away my friend!”

My daddy worked the factory seems the whole day long
He’d come home at suppertime, drink whiskey til it’s gone
And he never laid a finger on my mama or my kin
But Friday night on the banjo, his hands moved like the wind

Folks came from every direction just to hear
That banjo in the old mans arms
Between chasing girls and fighting with my friends
The old man asked me to join him and play him some guitar

Well my daddy’s mind’s still going, but his hands have lost their speed
He still loves that rocker and he sure as hell loves to sing
Even though this town it seems to change every day
The family still gets together, and we still love to play

Pick Up Your Horn

Track 5 on "The Optimist"
-----
I see the rain falling down through the haze 
I see the colors but I’m missing all the shapes 
I see the light but it won’t show me the way 
And I can’t see you

I see the future when I close my eyes 
I see your picture, but I think it’s a disguise
 My fingers run through your hair but no matter how I try 
I can’t see you

It’s like I’m telling myself something I don’t wanna hear
 They dismiss it as a dream, but it seems so clear 
I could testify, but it’s best if my eyes drift when you come near
 Cause they’re telling me something I don’t wanna hear

Even when I’m sleeping there’s a reason that I do the things I do
 And every changing of the season brings believing that dreams come true
 Give me just a little time, I’ll remind myself what you’ve been going through
When I can’t see you

Well I spend so much time thinking about what’s out of my hands 
I hear, I plan, I hope, then you command 
I wake up grasping at what my heart demands 
But it don’t matter what I do , no I can’t see you

Now I see the future when I close my eyes 
I’ve been staring at your picture, and I know it’s a disguise
 Don’t you know I did my best to love you but no matter how i try 
I can’t see you

It’s like I’m telling myself something I don’t wanna hear 
Y’all dismiss it as a dream, but it seems so clear
 You know I could testify, but it’s best if my eyes drift when you come near 
Cause they’re telling me something I don’t wanna hear

When You Come Near

Track 7 on "The Optimist"
-----
Philip Marshall Cates was born in Carolina,
Went to school in England
Philip and Samantha married on his farm
Before the harvest season
He was schemin’
His worshipped father died a Great War hero
At night he’d lie in bed and clutch his silver stars and eagles
(He was schemin’)

Back abroad in London Philip Marshall Cates
Had met an old explorer
Who’d climbed the Ural Mountains, crossed Sahara,
Dove the oceans, spoke of more
Oh, he spoke of more!
So one night Philip abandoned poor Samantha,
Future Smokey Mountain old maid
And as he dark departed, son Lysander
Joined his father as a stowaway
(He spoke of more!)

But tonight, don’t cry for Samantha, mother and bride
As she holds a black and white photograph that fades away
She still works the farm, and she remembers her baby in her arms
The babe that left her barren and the man that drove her early grey
And they all take respite in the thought of coming home one day

Philip and Lysander carried south to work for merchants out of Quito
Son translated, father wore a gun and fended off banditos
He grew weak though
Then in eighteen years they worked every job from here to Argentina
Every woman a distortion of that last time they had seen her
(He grew weak though)

But tonight, don’t cry for Samantha, mother and bride
As she holds a black and white photograph that fades away
She still works the farm, and she remembers her baby in her arms
The babe that left her barren and the man that drove her early grey
And they all take respite in the thought of coming home one day

Old Lysander Cates spent over thirty months
In travel north to Raleigh
Gasping when he saw Samantha bed-ridden, rheumatized and gnarly
He said “I’m sorry,
“It’s been seven years since father was gunned down
“By gauchos out to rob our cocaine
“And when I got out of jail for killing every last one
“I started home again
“Oh, Mother I’m sorry.”
Old Samantha Cates was buried in
The shadow of the church bell tower
And when he took his life Lysander’s body
Landed there amongst her flowers….

But tonight, don’t cry for Samantha, mother and bride
As she holds a black and white photograph that’s faded away
She still works the farm, and her baby has outgrown her arms
The fields are never barren and
The men come in for supper after a long hard day
And they all take respite in the thought of coming home….

Philip Marshall Cates

from Grover Anderson, the Optimist (3/10/14)

There was a poor old Lampolier
Who’d corner any man drawn near
Solicit, grinning ear to ear, his time
“Dear Citizen, entrepreneur,
“Bourgeoisie or raconteur,
“Permit me the chance to fill your mind
“With my travelled, torrid tale
“No broken hearts or angels ailing
“In some foreign castle in decline.
“If you’ll sit a minute please
“I’ll tell you how your own two knees
“Can carry you to hold the brightest light
“Ever to shine.”

Now most men over five and twenty’d
Long since learned to make their money
Pouring iron or pressing fact’ry stamp.
But me, I’d gone by many names, 
I’d brought my parents ought but shame
Dishonorably they’d cast me out a tramp.
“Sit, I’ll tell you crystal clear,”
To me said the Lampolier,
Cold, glazed piercing eyes once red and damp
“Days a’walk from this cold city
“Hides a cave, old, dark, & gritty
“And inside’s the light that outshines anything
“I’ve ever burned within my lamp.”

The Lampolier
Tell my mother it was the Lampolier

“Three days out route 49
“You’ll find a town in deep decline
“Left abandoned by all but the fools.
“Then go up walking in the hills,
“Wander where the light it wills,
“But don’t you trouble rations, maps or tools.”
I had to stop the Lampolier,
“Mister you’ve not made it clear,
“Exactly the value of the light.”
“Young man,” said the old lampmaker,
“Love your God and don’t forsake Her,
“But this light’s the very holy source that gives
your soul its life.”

The Lampolier
Tell my mother it was the Lampolier
If you find my body here
Carry it into the sun

Well I obeyed the man’s directions
Brought no map but found the sections
Perfectly the Lampolier’d described
I crawled headfirst in that hole
Lost my grip and cracked my skull
And in the waning moment before I died
I recognized a well-dressed stranger
Eyes ablaze, I’d played his game to
Watch him stoke his cold and glorious fire
He held a shiny lamp towards me
And rather than my soul set free
Now I make his flame burn all the brighter

The Lampolier
Tell my mother it was the Lampolier
If you find my body here
Carry it into the sun

Children do not fear the dark
You’ve no idea who’s lit the spark
That you believes keeps demons far at bay
Late at night when lamps are burning
Next to you he could be lurking
The Lampolier could always use more prey.

(C) 2014 Grover Anderson
Music & Lyrics by Grover Anderson
Mixed by Michael Clebanoff
Mastered by Paul Stubblebine
Performed by Grover Anderson (vocals/rhythm guitar), Aaron Bishop (bass), Bob Matthews (drums), Rick Moore (organ), and Kiel Williams (lead guitar)

The Lampolier

I don't know if its fireflies or if my eyes are lying to me
But the lights that fill up my sky aren't shining as bright
I landed in Minnesota, it's colder, but I'm warm and I'm free
Until I'm alone, only memories to help me get through the night
And I got what I want now I just want more

When you leave Indiana, I'm gonna cover some ground
Do all that I couldn't get done without you around
I'm gonna cook you a dinner and burn it
I'll say you're perfect when you don't deserve it
I'm gonna love you til I'm sick of you
And hopefully you're gonna be
Sick of me too

We've dealt with this distance, lived through dissonance
The wild ups and downs
But I hear your voice through the wire and my heart floats away
Now you're heading home and we've gone on too long waiting 'round
Let's have some of that fun we've been hearing about
Forget all the future and live for today

When you leave Indiana I'm gonna cover some ground
Do all that I couldn't get done without you around
I'll change your flat tires, keep my facial hair groomed
Hold you in bed til the late afternoon
I'm gonna love you til I'm sick of you
And hopefully you're gonna be sick of me

We've got the rest of our lives to live
The rest of our lives
And try as we might, in time, some of the magic might die

But when we get together I'm gonna cover some ground
Right now we're young and we're dumb and we'll run this town
I'm gonna cherish each kiss like the first
I'll hold you in ways that they'd frown on in church
Then if I'm lucky to live til I'm eighty
I'll still be a fool for my little old lady
Tell everyone that I'm sick of you
And hopefully you're gonna be
Sick of me too

Oh, aren't you sick of me too?

Sick Of You (10 Year Anniversary)

"Young" - the debut album by The National Parks
"As We Ran" - standalone single by The National Parks

As We Ran - Single

Sick Of You

Part Of Your Scene

Danny

I will
I will, always want what I can't have

and you will always...be that 

I keep replaying the words that were said
the looks that you gave
the back of your head
as you walked away
You know that I would drop everything 
to have the back of your head 
in my hands again

You don't care, you're pushed further away
when I'm there.

I Will

Produced by Latch Key Kid

Featured in the Chilean commercial for Tatienne. http://youtu.be/DdPLqtt5A9U

Balloon

Westbound Bart was written after a long streak of writer’s block. After graduating UCSC and deciding not to teach math, I floated around the bay area for about a year or so. One night I was staying on a friend’s couch in Berkeley, complaining to him about my writer’s block and he knew that I liked to write about real life incidents and human nature. He suggested I check out the Tuesday night Karaoke at Amnesia Bar in SF. He told me about all the interesting characters that haunt that place and how I was sure to find a song there. I headed out solo, hopped on the BART, and the song picks up from there. I got the song and the writer’s block was gone. ~ Craigie

Philip Marshall Cates

Grover Anderson

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