I'm not sleeping
It's quarter to four
I reach my hand into
An old junk drawer
Find a scrap of paper there
An old rummy score
Looks like you beat me pretty bad
Back in 'ninety-four
And I'm still up to nothing much

The radio's warning
We must evacuate
If we don't get out soon they say
It's gonna be too late
But I can't see getting all worked up
In a state
If I get blown over
Guess that'll be my fate to be nothing much

I hope you're happy about it too
Your predictions for me
They all came true, so true
I hope you're happy about it too
That stuff you said about me baby
It all came true, so true 
And I've amounted to nothing much

The storm is over
Guess what I'm alive
The roaches, the rats, and me
We know how to survive
The clouds are pulling apart
In a blood red sky
You get kind of hard to kill when
You think you've already died
And you know you're nothing much

Nothing Much

A fake commercial that I made for my podcast, the Boy With a Problem Radio Show. https://jimwindolf.podbean.com/

K-TEL's "I Don't Know What I Feel Like Listening To!!!"

demos

The Sunnyside of the Street

WORKING OVERTIME

Things were always such a mess
In our battered family home
And there was always some kind of fighting going on
Unless I was there alone

The kitchen sink was overflowing
Last night’s dishes pots and pans
The heat would win the daily battle
Against those old slow-turning fans

So I moved close to the city
Once they gave me my degree
And now this bright clean office space
Is like a home to me

Now I’m here working overtime
There’s always more to do
What you start in the daylight hours
Nights you see it through

People here are mostly friendly
At their desks all in a row
And when they hit the bars at five or six
I choose not to go

Because I’m here working overtime
There’s oh so much to do
What you can’t get to in business hours
Nights you follow through...

I wonder if they even notice
That I’m so loyal and so true
That I give myself to the company
And believe in what we do

The floor falls all but silent
Once the cleaning crew is gone
The computers all seem sound asleep
As I keep working on

Now I’m here working overtime
There’s always more to do
What you start in the daylight hours
Nights you see it through...

Working Overtime

Station master end of the line
Don't look into his dead eyes
Cut off as if by my design
Turned my back on the sunrise

Giving in and doing without
Falling under shadows of doubt
Couldn't see a way to be free
Until she happened to me

She happened to me
She happened to me

Underneath September skies
Is where I first saw her
When I looked into her eyes
I knew that I loved her

She gave me everything I could take
Something in me started to break
I finally found a way to be free
When she happened to me

She happened to me
She happened to me

Now even when I shut my eyes for sleeping
And I'm drifting away from reality
And I'm solo on the shore
And I'm breaking the surface
And I'm sinking deep into a murky sea
I feel all right somehow
I feel all right somehow
I feel all right somehow
I feel all right

This feeling that the world is mine
It's an illusion but I don't really mind
Finally found a way to be free
When she happened to me

She happened to me
She happened to me

She Happened to Me

I was gazing through the glass
From a seat on an Amtrak train
Saw a person standing there all alone in the middle of a field
And as we moved past
I looked back that way again
It was my longtime love that second look revealed

Why must we go back down to zero
From time to time you’ve forgotten I’m your friend
Why must we go back down to zero
Every other night we got to start all over again

I was standing on the rocks
In some quaint little seaside town
Less than a week had passed since our wedding day
And over by the docks
Wearing a captain’s cap and a frown
Was the woman that I loved sailing straight off into the bay

Why must we go back down to zero
From time to time you’ve forgotten I’m your friend
Why must we go back down to zero
Every other night we got to start all over again

Why, why, why must love be so cruel
Why, why, why must I become your fool

I was lying in the grass
After a rough and restless night
The sun’s first rays were slapping me across my face
And then it came to pass
Emerging from the rosy light
Was the one that I loved with the one who’d be taking my place

Why must we go back down to zero
From time to time you’ve forgotten I’m your friend
Why must we go back down to zero
Every other night we got to start all over again
And from time to time to time to time to time

Four Sides

Why Must We Go Back Down to Zero

Johnny so bright
He's got his eyes wide open as the train's pulling into the station
Johnny so bright
He's got his answers ready before the man even asks him a question
Nothing's gonna put him down
Nothing's gonna put him down

Johnny so wild
He charms the birds from the trees with ease and the beasts from the stable
Johnny so wild
He's got his lawyer cursing his case as he steps to the table
Nothing's gonna put him down
Nothing's gonna put him down in the ground where he'll never be found
Nothing

Johnny so mild
He takes the air in deep as his mother and his father breathe shallow
Johnny so mild
He's got his hands in his pockets as he climbs up the steps to the gallows
Nothing's gonna put him down
Nothing's gonna put him down in the ground where he'll never be found
Nothing's gonna put him down

Johnny so bright
He's got his eyes wide open as the train's pulling into the station

Johnny So Bright

MOVING ON

Summer's dead and gone
Winter's coming on
Now I'm chopping up the furniture for firewood
A cold November dawn
Moving on

I was in her thrall
Waited for her call
Now I'm shaking off the memories that follow me
Like shadows on the wall
Moving on 

But I'm not sure that I can pull myself away
Once I've heard her sing our song
'Wild is the Wind' she says is sure to make me stay
If I do she'll say she knew it all along
Moving on

Winter gave us spring
Sparrows on the wing
Now I'm shrugging off this old overcoat I guess I
Don't really need that thing
Moving on

Moving On

I IN MY CLERICAL CLOTHING

I in my clerical clothing
Of solid color
Not a stripe will you see
I'm playing a role
It’s not about me
So take some pity
If you happen to see me
In my clerical clothing

I in my clerical clothing
I’m not a convict
Or traveling clown
I keep my eyes up
And take your words down
So you won’t see me
If you see me around
In my clerical clothing

When I'm staring at a spot on the ceiling
I can see her by a mountain lake
When I'm trying to hold on to that feeling
I can feel my concentration break
Because in the window glass I see
The face of a man looking back at me
He's got silver in his hair and red in his eyes
It's all of a piece with the gray disguise
Of his clerical clothing
His clerical clothing

I in my clerical clothing
Of solid color
Not a stripe will you see
I'm playing a role
It’s not about me
So take some pity
If you happen to see me
In my clerical clothing

I In My Clerical Clothing

NEW JERSEY ROAD

He starts off in North Caldwell
Heads out on a ride
There's the Essex County Penitentiary
He has a friend locked up inside
He pulls into Matterazzo's Farm
They sell tomatoes and potted trees
Water towers guarding the horizon line
For a moment nothing else he sees

TVs on in every house that he passes like an endless episode
All along this old New Jersey road

The women waiting at the bus stop
Down by Bloomfield Avenue
Spent the morning on a visit to their men in the jail
Now the sky's a suburban blue
He hits the main drag of Verona
Man you should've seen it back in the day
Now the kids who used to crowd into the booths at Bond's
Seem to haunt him as he makes his way

The past is gone but sometimes it sure feels like a heavy load
All along this old New Jersey road

Up toward the Claremont Diner
Past the Annin flag factory
He remembers he was spitting out the windshield glass
Where the road meets twenty-three
Here the avenue starts to rise
And he finds himself back in the glow
Of the city lights shining twenty miles away
He sees the jet-lights coming in low

Funny to think how he used to imagine all this would just explode
All along this old New Jersey road

Jim Windolf

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