Lost Man Standing

Windows & Doors by Mark Baughman copyright 2017 All rights reserved

Version with only vocal and piano track

Windows And Doors Vocal and Piano only

Nearer to Nowhere
Copyright 2021 Mark Baughman

There's a high mass in the subway
There's a salon on the street
A crowd is giving witness
They drop at your feet
And all this went by while you
Waited for a sign
Eyes fixed on something shiny
It made you go blind

A stranger circling 'round you
Looking for his chance
He spied the situation
And he put you in a trance
He recognizes
Weakness and fear
I can see that he's drawing you -

Nearer to nowhere, further from where we started, remember? I know it's hard, but just close your eyes and try to feel what you felt when you held my hand

They opened up the prisons
But you stayed in your cell
The guards and the warden
Didn't treat you so well
The bars are in your memories
Stronger than steel
The lock's your confusion
'Cause none of it's real

Directions that go
To a place that's not there
And the driver you called
Just sits there and stares
You climb in the back
But the car, it won't move
And you find yourself desperate to - 

Prove to yourself, or the people who love you so much, but you don't seem to know they're right there, around you, just waiting to touch you if you'd hold out your hand

Open the envelope
Take out the papers
Fold them up neatly
And put them away
Pick up the pieces
Put them together
No misdirection
To lead you astray

Tear up the papers
Tear up the envelope
Crush in your hands
And set them afire
Sweep up the ashes
Throw to the wind
And ask yourself, honestly:
Want or desire?

They're dousing the candles
And crossing themselves
And the prophets of the sidewalk
Their books on the shelves
You stood up and ran
Down the alley in the dark
From the light that laid you out -

Stark - all the things that you know but still you can't face that it's hard and you need someone to cover for you while you find your place and station in time

Nearer to Nowhere

Currency
Copyright 2021 Mark Baughman ASCAP All Rights Reserved

f. Marco Cremaschini on piano

"You don't get to know me, and you never did"
That was her last line of defense
I barely heard the sound
Felt a sting, hit the ground
Laid out in my state of penitence

"You don't get to have me," like she needed to say
But she wanted me to stay down this time
She stood over the kill
Just to show me her will
Then she fled from the scene of the crime

Well I didn't know a thing of her fragility
And I don't know how I fell into this trap
Should a lover or a friend
Meet this kind of end?
Cornered, she turned and attacked

She used her hurt and loneliness like currency
Minted in some dark place in her mind
Maybe only I could see
But it was counterfeit to me
Taken as payment in kind

Currency

Seven Years at Sea

Copyright 2021 Mark Baughman/Working Theories Publishing ASCAP
All rights reserved

I Just got my legs underneath me
After seven long years at sea
I was longing to be back on the dock
Where I sat and I longed to be free
The ship deserted the captain
And the first mate, he came and he went
We swore that we'd go the distance
But we didn't know what we meant

My first port of call was a siren
Dressed in another man's shirt
She said, "Throw your fate to the winds,
But saying a prayer might not hurt"
So I walked down a path to a chapel
That hundreds had walked down before
I spoke to a stone in a garden
And wondered what it was there for

I wish I had known that this was just
The quiet time before the storm
But sitting there, thinking it over
The opinions I shouldn't have formed
Well, I couldn't say I wasn't warned

A character I read in a novel
I ghost I saw in a play
Just when I came to the precipice
She turned up with something to say
I went to her, put out my arms
And she vanished like dark in the night
So I carried on with my loneliness
Chasing the dimmest of light

Well, I lost my sense of contrition
And fell in with hustlers and thieves
They payed life like it was a card game
With more than an ace up their sleeves
But somebody's only a winner
'Till the dealer puts out a new hand
You don't really know where you are
When you don't really know where you stand

With all the conditional friendships
Not even my hand was warm
With all of their manifestos
And all of their movements reformed
I couldn't say that I wasn't warned

I don't know what's more important - 
Where I went to or where I came from
The souvenirs I collected add up to
A whole lot less than the sum
And the girl I left on the pier
On that morning I went out to sea
She's in love, or she's in denial
While she's unweaving her tapestry

I made some inquiries and there's no passage back
And there's nowhere to stay around here
It won't do just to ride along
But I won't mind if someone else steers
Everything comes to me bittersweet
My heart so exquisitely torn
And now my home's the relentless pursuit
Of a vision so beautifully formed
I know - I was told
With fanfare and scold
So I couldn't say I wasn't warned.

Seven Years At Sea

Cut Throat Razor
Copyright 2021 Mark Baughman, Working Theories Publishing ASCAP
All rights reserved

I could paint you another picture
And wonder what it was that you saw
A blank or colorful canvas
Would you see anything at all?

I could write out these words in my little book
The verses seem to have no end
Rhymes and reasons for page after page
In a letter I couldn't send

In one direction or another
In circles, then doubling back
Too late when I found I was
Tied down, helpless

If I wrote you a song, would you listen?
Is it the melody or words that you hear?
Or maybe that note of dissonance
Is what came to your ear

I asked then I begged, then I reasoned
I put it all out, naked and real
Wounded - sharp, like from a razor
That was too fast to feel

Cut through one part, then another
So deep it's never going to close
I look in the mirror, and I
Don't recognize me
Don't know what I want
Don't know where I am

Tied to a May Pole
A ribbon so colorful
Fantastic and beautiful
But we're tangled, and we're nowhere

Cut Throat Razor

Jackie

Copyright 2022 Mark Baughman / Working Theories Publishing ASCAP All rights reserved

Jackie, give it a minute and let it sink in
Then get on with what you were doing
She doesn't give you a second thought
So tell me who's doing the fooling
In a minute or two
It will be midnight
And we get to start it again

You act like it's a mystery, 
Like you couldn't see this coming
Posing, indifferent, pretending you don't care
So tell me - where were you running?
In an hour or two
Need to make some choices
Are you listening to me?
Do you hear voices?
Oh, why can't you see that it's all laid out there for you?

C'mon now, stop looking down
Your feet will go where you lead them
You've been giving her the best things you have
But she doesn't seem to need them
I know it's not easy
But in your heartest of hearts
You know it's true

My friend was so confused
He caught a train in every direction
He carried himself with such certainty
All we saw was his perfection
In a year or two
He had it all figured out
Then the footing gave under
And he crumbled in doubt
I wish he could see we were leaving the light on for him

He got lost, and figured that
All doors closed behind him
He disappeared without leaving a trace
We looked, but we couldn't find him
But we gave up too easy
So we came up short
It's sad but it's true


Jackie, you're on your own, just let that sink in
And forget 'bout the time that you threw away
Her house has been burning and you want to rush in
But what good could you do her anyway?
In a lifetime or two
You'll make it all make sense
Maybe rationalize
In the interest of self-defense
For all you can be we've been leaving the light on for you

Come on now and stop looking back
There's nobody there behind you
Pick up your bags and get on with it
And leave us a trail to find you
I know it's not easy
But in your heartest of hearts
You know I'm right

I know it's not easy, 
But in your heartest of hearts
You know it's true

I know it's not easy

Jackie

Mariupol

Copyright 2022 Mark Baughman /Working Theories Publishing ASCAP
All Rights Reserved

I could hear the engines starting
Saw shadows moving quickly through the trees
Held my breath said a prayer
And quietly got to my knees
A short burst on the radio
And we came out of the wood
Where I saw a familiar plain

Waves across the field
Tanks rolling slowly at our back
Coiled and cocked on the crest
Waiting for the sign to attack
A flare flew high above us
It's tail split the sky
Then the cannons and artillery
I had to close my eyes
The air was full and deafening
And the night dropped its disguise

When I was a boy, I came here
My uncle had a farm with a lake
An orchard - rich and exotic
We picked all we could take
The summer nights we layout out in this field
With my cousin and her friend
We watched the stars rolling slowly by
We wished this night would never end

A sentinel for Motherland
Was what I thought I'd be
A marker out of history
A beacon to the sea
But the bodies of the innocents
Is all that I can see

Our shells have no morality
Raining down on hospitals and schools
And the ones that made this possible:
Peacocks, they jabber like fools
The tractors and machines
Are turning up the field
Burying the evidence
That cannot be concealed
And waiting for a reckoning - 
The harvest we yield

Mariupol

The Fields
Copyright 2022 Mark Baughman / Working theories Publishing ASCAP
All Rights Reserved

For Jim

The Fields

Army of One
Copyright 2016 Mark Baughman

I'm a soldier in an army of one
With my conscience my shield and my book is my gun
I joined as a child
It's all that I've known
I've fought for the chance
To kneel at His throne
I'm a soldier in an army of one

I'm a soldier awaiting command
But I always get slapped
When I reach out my hand
What part is free will?
What part of it's fate?
What part of it's love?
What's love without hate?
I'm waiting to know where to stand

I lived in a marriage of one
Where I brought to the world
Two girls and a son
I taught and we played
As I pushed back the tears
And I said to myself
Those were not wasted years
I just did what I thought He'd have done

I'm all turned around, my mind is a fog
I fumble the right words to say
Studying the verses and lines in between
Do I lead or do I obey?

I want to know an army of two
I want to know someone 
Who will help me get through
But how will he know me?
How will I know him?
Divine intervention
Do I save him from sin?
I just want to know someone that's true

The years in this desert, the sun bearing down
The mirage plays tricks with my eyes
All of the reasons I fought all these years
For truth - or was it all lies?

Striking me down again and again
But somehow I keep coming back
I'm punch drunk and tired and I can't hear the call
Do I retreat or do I attack?

It's comfort I feel with every sharp blow
There's no part of me that's not bruised
I pray the reward will be more than a medal
I'm weary from being so used

Army Of One

Your True Face
Copyright 2017 Mark Baughman

From the new Rock Opera Release.
The character Patrick is conflicted about his feelings about Amy, who saved him.

All the time alone
I wondered to myself
Did anybody hear a thing I said?
Acting out the simplest things
Living impatiently
Locked up in the prison in my head
From the moment 
You stepped into my world
And did those things you naturally do
I was at home at last
Finally safe, at peace
With faith in someone beautiful and true
I know enough to know what I am
Didn't know what I could be

The sun came out 
Gave warmth to this space
And the chill that I lived with
Left without a trace
I remember the instant
It fell into place
When you opened the door
And showed me your true face

All the ships that sailed
And crashed upon your shores
Was it that they couldn't see your light?
I've been fixed on your beacon
Though it's aimed another way
It may be dim to them, to me it's bright
What I give to you
I know doesn't mean a thing
It's not what you were looking for
I would build you a palace
Of hope and faith and peace
But you'd never let me walk you to the door
Traded one prison for another
But now I can say how I feel

When the sun comes up
And you look around
And you listen for
Some distant sound
It will be me you hear
Singing from this place
Where you opened your heart
And showed me your true face

All the time you spent
Chasing your dreams
Seeming even longer on your own
There's nothing sadder
Than looking all your life
Then finding it, and finding you're alone
I know enough to know who you are
I know who you could be

When the sun is high
And it's beating down
And it's hard to tell
The sky from the ground
I'll be on the horizon
Saving your place
Where we can live peacefully
Out of this race

When the sun goes down
And the night grows cold
And the winds of time
Are testing my hold
I will live in  the moment
It fell into place
When you opened your heart
And showed me your true face

Your True Face

Barbed Wire Coat

copyright 2018 Mark Baughman, All rights reserved

There's a dark cloud flashing
Coming up over the hill ahead
And I keep on driving towards it
When I know I should stop instead
You were giving me directions
Now you say I was mislead
You act like you don't know where we were going
You act like it didn't mean a thing

There is someone 'round the corner
Keeping score and taking names
She is weighing my resistance
She is always playing games
She is reading from the forecast
That when it pours, it rains
You act like you don't know what was happening
You wear love like a barbed-wire coat

Every step with you is a new found land
Every time I write you misunderstand
Every time I reach out you just look at my hand
Every time I show way out 
You turn and close the door
Every time we start to climb
You start reaching for the floor
Every time - I beg you come back 
To where it was you were before

There's a dark sea rising
And the tide's up on the Bay
And the raft that you've been living on
Will lift and drift away
It won't be long before the swells
Hit you with their spray
You act like you don't know where you're sailing
Well, this time I think you're right

Every step you take in this careless plan
Every day I'm wondering where you stand
You just keep on falling with nowhere to land
Every time you broke my heart
And then walked away clean
When you didn't like the picture
You'd just make a new scene
And all I really wanted was to
See you yourself again

Oh the time I came to rescue you
And you turned me away
I was good enough to take it
But not good enough to stay
I stayed up all night and listened 
And we cried 'til the next day
Then I laid out all my cards
And you didn't want to play

In the greenest meadow
Grows the softest grass
And the sky's so clear
You could swear it's made of glass
And the storms on the horizon
They just quietly pass
I'd like to think you know the way here
I am patiently waiting for you

Every mark I make
Every place I stand
Every word I say
Every fire I fan
Every stand I take
In this shifting sand
What I forswore
I became
If it makes you feel better
I will take the blame
I just wanted to see you
Where you were again.

Barbed Wire Coat

Energie

Copyright 2018 Mark Baughman

I step off of the ledge
With the wind in my hair
My eyes looking straight in the sun
From zero to flying
A stone through the air
I hope I don’t hit anyone
No I won’t hit anyone
-
Standing atop
I summoned my nerve
I saw my potential alive
I think what I’m getting
Is what I deserve
It comes at the end of the dive

I see the skies igniting
Mountains born out of a fire
-
I’ve been up to the top
I’ve been down to the bottom
And somehow I ended the same
All that I spent on
Nothing that mattered while
Looking for something to blame

Toy in the attic
Left careless behind
Carelessly fell to the ground
Alone in a shell
With parents resigned
Joyful, reacts to the sound
He dances to the sound
-
Looking in darkness
For validation
She lovingly showed me her light
She offered me kindness
Showed me salvation
But I stole away in the night

I saw the fire lighting
I didn’t know it was real
-
I’ve been over the top
I’ve sunk down to the bottom
Prideful and feeling the shame
Energy wasted on
Nothing that mattered
Like I wouldn’t be there again

Pulses and frequencies
Infinite, bound
Echo forever in space
The depth of a feeling
Caught by a sound
Bringing us back to this place
-
I feel the moment exciting
Memories lighting the sky

I’ve been over the edge
I’ve been up to my neck
Always out of my depth
I raced with the sun, looking
Over my shoulder
And never quite catching my breath
-
I jumped to the top
I fell down to the bottom
And always I came out the same
Potential expended
Broken and mended
Then back on the ledge, here again

Energie

Buried Treasure

Copyright Mark Baughman 2019

Sitting in the park alone
The winter wind is blowing 
And he doesn’t feel the sting
He looks out through the stand of trees
The sunlight reaches back
But he doesn’t see a thing
He looks down at the paper
With the line that brought him all the way here
His fingers slowly tracing back and forth
He had the wheel but couldn’t steer

Standing on a runway
With the engines roaring by
And he doesn’t hear a sound
All those people coming, going
Watching and he wonders
If they’re lost or if they’re found
The jet wash pulls the paper 
Turning while it dances through the air
Across a field and over and out of sight
To some lost soul on his way to nowhere

In his suitcase all her letters
A box of empty photographs
At the ready all the answers
To the things she never asked
Seduced himself in hot pursuit
The trail is cold and fading fast
He may not be the first one here
He knows for sure he’s not the last

Kneeling in an open field 
Stretched out to the horizon
And he’s straining for a voice
Laying on the grass 
Looking up and asking no one 
If he really had a choice?
He swears he was born innocent
No direction where to begin
He spent his life wanting beyond his reach
Around the bend or deep within

In the suitcase all her letters
A box of empty photographs
At the ready all the answers
To the things she never asked
Seduced himself in hot pursuit
The trail is cold and fading fast
He thinks he’s not the first one here
He knows for sure he’s not the last

Buried Treasure

Zambezi

Copyright 2019 Mark Baughman

I see the houses
With all their pretty doors
Their rooms are all empty
What do they have them for?
I meet the people
Lost and alone
Talking to no one
And aching to the bone
My weariness took over
And I finally closed my eyes
I heard a distant symphony
Reflecting off the skies
It was thunderous, majestic
It was singing out in tongues
And underneath a rhythm
That I heard when I was young

They were sending out their thoughts and prayers
Then they scattered like seeds on the wind

When I woke in the morning
In the center of a plain
A cloudburst opened up and it
Washed me with with it's rain
The water off my feet
Cut channels in the ground
Ran to join the others
Desperate to be found
They follow unfamiliar paths
Of choices they don't make
Assuming all the privileges 
Of liberties they take
They didn't see it coming
The river - gentle, slow
The earth broke open, swallowed
To the thunder from below

I sent them all my thoughts and prayers
And like vapor they left on the wind

On the one side of the coin
My friends all tell me
That I'm crazy
Seeing everything 
As part of some 
Complex design
It bugs me that I have this funny feeling
That I'm not alone and
Maybe should be looking harder
Cannot see the signs
I dreamed I saw Jerusalem
It's minarets and churches
And its calls to all the faithful
To come and start again
On the other side I build my house
Above and all around me
It mirrors what I know
It's designed to keep me in

What was the question?
What is it now?

I swam across the river
And crawled up on the bank
Basking and grateful
Not knowing who to thank
I thought of Zambezi
Arrested by the falls
The fate of all the innocents
Who fell over the wall

We sang them all our thoughts and prayers
And like vapor they left on the wind

Zambezi

Robert Owen

Copyright 2019 Mark Baughman all rights reserved

My name is Robert Owen
And I saw the light today
The flash came out of nowhere 
And then it went away
I left my wife and daughter
At her mother's house back east
Where they sewed on cuffs and collars
At a penny for a piece
Didn't want much
Was just hoping
For a tiny piece of pie
Stood in line for
Days on ending
Then they served another lie

My name is Bobby Owen
So they wrote it on a list
One hand begging, open
While another made a fist
I gave a long week's work and
In return a short day's pay
Most every town greets us with 
A sign to stay away
In the railyards
Under bridges
Any shelter in a storm
Old newspapers
Tattered blankets
Not enough to keep me warm

The last of my dignity
I threw away tonight
I won a little money
Then lost it in a fight
The last of my possessions
They took the week 'fore last
They hit me while I slept at night
I'd have given if they asked
Just a locket
With a picture
And a cutting of her hair
Just a memory
Seems so distant
Don't remember who or where

My name is not important
Though it's spelled across the sky
Been sung in church and marches
Though I never figured why
Was recruited in a beanfield
Where the sun had made me blind
We stood firm on the front line
And they shot us from behind
Hallelujahs
Were delivered
By a choir in the back
All the truth of
My existence
Was buried in a sack

My name is Robert Owen
And I saw the light today

Robert Owen

Racing to the Bottom

Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman
All rights reserved

My eyes were tight and burning
When I came to in the cell
With a hundred true believers
Sent to spend the night in Hell
They'll be picking up their ribbons
Disappear into the crowd
And waiting for dispatches
That will come through clear and loud

I walked around a corner
There was something going down
Heard a siren from behind me
Someone threw me to the ground
They were kicking me as I
Curled into a ball
Then the boots went marching on
And the sky began to fall

A soldier rolled me over
I couldn't see his face
His black boot on my throat
While he sprayed my eyes with mace
He was acting on instructions
He was answering a call
He pulled me by the collar
Threw me up against the wall

 He said "Take me to your leader."
I said, "I don't understand
I was only on my way home
Wasn't there to make some kind of stand
It's not Selma, It's not Montgomery
It's not 1968
That show's in syndication
And we already paid the freight."

I could barely make him out
My eyes all tears and blood
I reached out to touch his face
And he hit me with a club
I heard a woman laughing
Then beckon him away
He gave me one last shove
Then headed back into the fray

Deep inside you hear a voice
Telling you that everything has rotten
Sitting in your living room
Watching as we're racing to the bottom

 
The smoke and tear gas drifted off
I could make shapes out of the dark
They chained me in the wagon
Just for being in the park
I passed out in my filth
And I woke up to a fight
Restless and exhausted
It went on and on like that all night.

On and on.

Racing to the Bottom

We Could Be Angels
Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman
All rights reserved

I was following the markers
Sun ducked behind the trees
And I came upon a man
With a lantern in his hand
He was old and moving slow
But he made me feel at ease
And the feeling that he gave was
Almost more than I could stand
 
The pride and the entitlement
Splendid in naivety
That had me misdirected
And staring at the ground
But the light lifted my eyes
And right in front of me
I saw a place where I could
Put my troubles down
 
There could be angels
If we wanted to see
Laboring in the backroom
To try and set us free
We may not know they’re there
But either way they care
There could be angels
 
Here’s to all the women who
Toughened up my heart
All of them seem different now
I treasure every kiss
Here’s to all the times when
I almost came apart
I'm wiser for the lessons
These days I reminisce
 
You all were angels
Maybe you didn’t know
You were putting down the seeds
And you hoped they’d grow
It may not be in your plan
You’re just doing what you can
You could be angels
 
I recognized an angel
Though I asked and she denied
She didn’t see herself like that
She just took things in her stride
But when I really needed her
My angel held me straight
For what I offered in return
She told me I could wait
 
Commanding the world
Sitting in my chair
Losing my perspective
With every decree
While the snows of Kil’manjaro
Rise into the air
They spread across the sky
And fall into the sea
 
We might be angels
Well, I don’t know
I thought I had more time
But I have to go
Be careful what you ask
You may see behind the mask
We might be angels
 
We could be angels
If we wanted to be
Laboring in the backroom
To set each other free
They may never know we’re there
But why should we care?
We could be angels

We Could Be Angels

This River Won't Flow
Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman
All rights reserved

Early in the mornin’
The cloud is layin’ low
Birds sleep in the trees
‘Cause they got no place to go
And the crickets in the tall grass
Singin’ soft and slow
Boys with their fishin’ poles
Soft on the moss
Drifting, half-asleep
They got their fingers crossed
But nothing is biting
And this river won’t flow

Time just stopped 
About an hour ago
And suddenly I forgot
Everything I know
When she told me
She just had to go
Now the sun won’t come out
And the river won’t flow

Staring at the distance
Shots fired at dawn
Lookin’ ‘round the field
To see which side I’m on
My heart was bleeding fire
But I couldn’t let it show
The gaslight and the lies
Drove her ‘till she wrecked
The grooming and the cheating
Did what you’d expect
She was adrift in circumstances
And the current wouldn’t go

Was still lookin’ back when I
Hit the end of the line
Summing up the reasons
She could never be mine
Tore myself to pieces
Thinking where she might go
Well, she’s never coming back to me
And this river won’t flow

I could never be her hero
I could never be right
I could never be the one
Who showed her the light
But I see everything
From the top to below
I did everything I could
To keep her on dry ground
I gave up all I had
So she wouldn’t drown
But she wouldn’t take the line
And she went down slow

Time stopped between
The dark and the day
My mind is full of reasons
But there’s nothing I can say
My face is lost and vacant
I put it on for show
I would fall into the water
But the river won’t flow

This River Won't Flow

Does anyone out there still write songs that are interesting, with melodies and lyrics and meaning?  -  Yes!

Mark Baughman is a composer, guitarist, playwright, visual artist and architect (yes, really, an architect). Based in Washington, DC, Mark writes songs that are more than stories - they are movies with vivid characters and real emotions. The songs have carefully crafted lyrics, melodies and song structures. Mark is incredibly versatile and prolific, easily moving from one genre to another to express what's on his mind and in his heart.

Mark has written and produced to stage 3 rock operas - 99, Release and Energie. Each tells a story of complex contemporary adult life. He is presently writing his 4th show, entitled Victoria Falls, and he posts the new songs as they are completed. 

Between the rock operas, Mark has produced 5 other albums - She Dreams of the Ghost, Charmed Life, Victoria Falls, No Prophet Here and Divided by Zero - which further showcase his songwriting dexterity and musicianship. 

Mark's live band is called Working Theory and takes different forms depending on the show  and venue. And he's busy now working on the next thing.

Lost Man Standing

Mark Baughman's Working Theory