Lawyers, Guns, and Money (by Warren Zevon)

This was a track I built around a loop I made with my son.

Scenic Drive

They plotted it nice
they plotted it well in advance
to take these lives
no fear with a gun in your hand
we're talking about kids here
who's teaching them their rights and wrongs
has entertainment spawned the flood
to wash our parents from our homes

The scene of a SWAT team
as they converged on that Columbine school
two kids unloading
not a thing they could do
they are the innocent sheep
to protect them should be our command
instead the spray and the bullet holes
to forever haunt this land

Bridge: 
And then they try to figure out
"They'll never find us in here"
But everywhere the blood would flow
Flow through the hallway
They hunted each one down like dogs
"It'll be okay just hold my hand"
Filling each of them with slugs
Their cries were broken 

As the air grew silent
only footsteps on broken glass
hunched under tables
demons were sent to pass
how did they choose them
what the hell had they done
a sense of quiet
mercy shown for none

Columbine

Chorus:
How could you walk away from me?
Now I know our times were rough, trust me
But how could you walk away from me?
But I've gotta believe there is more to this story

You lived just down the hall
it was easy I recall
You picked me up when I was low
lit me up, made me glow

Chorus

You had suspicions all the time
Didn't help to keep you mine
That one night when I was late
A million times you made me wait

Chorus

Let's go back, when we were young
When this relationship was sprung
Let me hold you in my hands
You can make me a better man

Chorus

How Could You Walk Away

This song is mostly word-for-word from St. Paul's letter to the Colossians.

Colossians [EP Version]

Small Crimes

This is a lullabye our late dad used to sing to us when we were little, and now I sing it to my kids.  I think my dad would be so happy to know his grandkids are singing his song.

The Sandman (by Al Keenan)

Here comes the Sandman
who's here each night
to help tiny tots
on a sleepy flight

with some star dust
sprinkled on their beds
little eyes will close
for sleepy heads

and now the story begins
and isn't it grand
as they're taken to
their slumber land

all through the night
they sleep like lambs
as they're cared for 
by the old Sandman


The Sandman (by Al Keenan)

Did you ever hear a song
That made you feel all wrong
Or feel like there was something you should do
Like pick up your guitar
And write about who you are
And breathe the air of soul into something new

Now they don’t deliver the mail on Sundays
Mister John taught us something, he brought us new ways
He wrote the simple things
That captured everything
Now he’s calling from heaven in better days

At the age of 24
He managed to score
What a lifetime someone else might spend to do
Singing songs about the old
The ravaged and cold
And funny ones about people like me and you

Now they don’t deliver the mail on Sundays
Mister John taught us something, he brought us new ways
He wrote the simple things
That captured everything
Now he’s calling from heaven in better days

In the end he’d fallen ill
Like the thousands it would kill
It took from us a heavy hand in pen
A Maywood boy at heart
Delivering mail was his start
And it seems to me we have not seen the end
And it seems to me we have not seen the end
Oh trust me Lord, we have not seen the end

Small Crimes

MarkKeenan

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