No Prophet Here

The Fever

Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman
All Rights Reserve

In a sliver of a fraction
Of a little bit off center
She sewed the seeds of doubt in me
Like threads into my sweater
When the instant of a moment 
Had me turning on a pin
Her silver hooks cut into me
And slowly reeled me in

She was pressing all the buttons
And was turning up the heat
I ran out of the kitchen
And then back out on the street
The traffic came from everywhere
Dodging - standing still
She pulled me back into her room
And she bent me to her will

Close your eyes - you see her
Raise your hand - you need her
Trust no one - believe her
Touch and feel the fever
Close your eyes - you see her
Raise your hand - you need her
Trust no one - believe her
Touch and feel the fever
Burns right through you - fever

To the center of the middle 
Of the target on my back
She shot me with the words that were 
Designed to make me crack
But I put up my defenses
To her madness and her method
To her unintended kindnesses 
And all she represented

Close your eyes - you see her
Raise your hand - you need her
Trust no one - believe her
Touch and feel the fever
Close your eyes - you see her
Raise your hand - you need her
Trust no one - believe her
Touch and feel the fever
Burns right through you - fever

The Fever

Skin in the Game
Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman, All rights reserved

I got my flag and my boots
I got my rocks and my sticks
I got me some friends
And they taught me some tricks
I got me no heroes
I got me no shame
If I had what I wanted
It would still be the same

The world is turning over
I'm just tryin' to be prepared
I wear this on my face so
You can't see I'm scared

We beat up some tourists
Broke the glass in their car
We cut up the tires
So they won't get very far
He looked like my dad's dad
A Vietnam vet
They say they never come home
Well, he still hasn't yet

I never understood
Why they signed up and went
Captured in the jungle
Never broke, never bent

We are here 
At the center of the universe
Writing the rules
With no skin in the game
We are standing 
At the center of the world
Our hands on the trigger
We shoot then we aim
We just turn
Everything on its head
We hunt and we kill
Deny and we blame
We are here
At the top of this hill
Dispensing our truth
And staking our claim

I open the window
And wait for a sound
I open the door
Put my feet on the ground
I turn on the news
To see what I think
I got this crazy feeling
That we're all on the brink

The world is spinning backward
Turning day into night
Turning yes into no
Turning black into white  

We are here 
At the center of the universe
Writing the rules
With no skin in the game
We are standing 
At the center of the world
Our hands on the trigger
We shoot then we aim
We just turn
Everything on its head
We hunt and we kill
Deny and we blame
We are here
At the top of this hill
Dispensing our truth
And staking our claim

Skin In The Game

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

Victoria

Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman

Victoria lives and breathes
In every corner of my mind
She tells me when to reach
And what to leave behind
She teaches me humility
The moment I feel proud
She tells me I should listen
Whenever I get loud

When the road of my life
Turned and backtracked like a maze
My compass always pointing, never strays

Victoria never judges
I wish I could say the same
I always look for villains
Or someone else's name
She's the toughest of my masters
She's the easiest of friend
And I'm making it my business
To be with her once again

As the path that I was traveling
Led in many ways
My compass aimed to one who never strays

Victoria, gloria
Reigning far and wide
Sees over the hills and under the sea
Leaving no where to hide
They could never understand
What goes on behind her eyes
She stood above it all
Simple and warm and wise
While she looked right through my disguise

When I was just a young man
And my future bright and clear
I put my manly aires on
And walked without a fear
When I first saw Victoria
In a corner cafe booth
I could tell by how she looked at me
That she always spoke the truth

And the thing that I was looking for
Might take me far away
But my compass fixed on one who never strays

Victoria walks the corridors
Of my conscience and my being
Explains what I don't understand
Describes what I'm not seeing
She was there at the beginning
Will she be there at the end?
Well I'm gonna do my level best
To be with her there again

And the choices that I made, how they
Haunt my to this day
But I stayed fixed on the one that never strayed

Victoria, gloria
Reigning far and wide
Sees over the trees, and under the rivers
Leaving nowhere to hide
They could never understand
What goes on behind those sweet brown eyes
She stood above it all
Simple and warm and wise
And she looked right through my disguise

Yes, she looked right through my disguise

Victoria

Somebody's Daughter
(feat. Mella Barnes)
Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman

The rain on the road crackles all night
It's the loneliest sound I know
I listen to the cars
Rushing by, indifferently
I'm jealous with nowhere to go
And the postman is the only one
Making a path to my door
But he won't bring what I need
Since I told that man
"I can't see you anymore"

I can hardly remember all those stories we read
'Bout being swept up and carried 'cross the water
I can barely remember
What it felt like
To be somebody's daughter

Oh, mother may I - could I lay down here
While you softly sing me to sleep?
Don't start on me about
The things I have to give away
And what I get to keep
Oh, father, will you hold my hand again
And walk me across the street?
Just hold back the judgments
And comparisons
I want to remember you as sweet

I forgot that you
Never threw me a line
When I was in turbulent water
You made it so hard for me
To think of myself
As somebody's daughter

I ended up here in the cold and rain
Piecing together on my own
The one man who really loved me
Was the reason I left home

This is no place for a woman like me
To find herself alone
The wind snaps cold
Everywhere I turn
Could he just come take me home?

My suitcase is closed and packed
Full of betrayal, and loss and lies
I dragged it up the stairs
To this lonely room
Where my dreams came to die
But I keep thinking I'm hearing a melody
From another time and place
I can feel him right here
In this room, next to me
I can almost see his face

I've blocked out so many things
I don't want to see again
I came here through hell and high water
But I remember a man
Who treated me like
I was somebody's daughter

Somebody's Daughter

A Country Like This

Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman, All rights reserved

No sleep, long night
White knuckle plane flight
Runway in sight
Hours before daylight
Well the room packed full with no light
And the windows are closed to keep it air-tight
Everything off, that means our flight
I seen this before, doesn’t look right

All these people 
Gotta get through that one little door
Then they take your papers 
And tell you to sit on the floor

Start the session
They ask us questions
Demand confession
‘Bout some transgression
What you think’s your choice they claim “discretion”
The joy you feel they call “oppression”
How do you rate all those possessions?
Where did you steal those expressions?

All these people
Bending over to give it a kiss
I sure am glad
I don’t come from a country like this

The man at the window
Wants to know where your people are from
“You can be our guest
Just as long as you’re under our thumb”

Late night break out
Into a drought
All night brown out
What’s this about?
Got a room with a bed in some kind of hideout
Taking our turns, someone gonna lookout
Peeling our eyes while we’re spotting the stakeouts
Watching and waiting to see what's gonna shake out

Walking down the street
With our eyes at the back of our heads
Lock us in our rooms 
Out of fear that our virus will spread

Watch what you say
Or you’ll find yourself dismissed
I sure am glad
I don’t come from a country like this

A Country Like This

No Prophet Here
Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman
All rights reserved

Standing at the edge of town
Hustling for a ride
No one left who wants to hear
So I’m leaving with the tide
The cars slow down and then speed up
And drive away afraid
Like I was some kind of affliction
An angel lost astray

I never thought about the game
Where I’d play my last hand
My eyes were fixed and empty
Building towers out of sand

Sitting on the handrail
Of a highway over pass
Flashes underneath my shoes
Going nowhere fast
Counting out the years before
And the hours still ahead
The way that I was gifted
And the way I went instead

I never thought I’d see the day
When it would all make sense
I walked ‘till I could crawl
And I fought my self defense

A stranger showed me mercy
He drove off fast and straight
To a preacher in a parking lot
Right off the interstate
Who asked, “Are you the prophet?
I thought you might be late.”
I resigned it to myself
That no one ever heard
And that would be my fate

Remembering how it was at home
Locked up in my room
Channeling the verses
And pouring out the tune
The sound of revelations
Coming through the wall
Lost on who they’re meant for
Just noises in the hall

I never knew until just now
That I was meant to roam
Invisible - could never be
A prophet in my home

I’m asking you for mercy
Victoria, full of grace
I’ve lived a life unworthy
I’ve fallen in disgrace
And humbled by the calling
That brought me to this place
But now I have in reach
The prize misunderstood
And so ends this race

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

Please Take Me Home
f. Mella Barnes
Copyright 2020 Mark Baughman 
All rights reserved

Watching my life 
Unfold like a movie
With one desperate scene 
Then another
Misjudging the players
The way that I do 
And when it’s too late
I discover
It all came to nothing
And it’s starting again
I keep thinking different
But the same way it ends

Watching the episodes
Hoping the hero
Can see what’s just
‘Round the corner
The signs were all over
The messages clear
But I couldn’t stop
Couldn’t warn her
It wouldn’t have mattered
She just looked the other way
With all of the ways out
She just stayed

Well, I’m getting tired
Of watching this movie
The ending is always the same
And I’m getting weary 
Of feeling like this
I did nothing to be so ashamed

I don’t understand
What keeps holding me here
But this is not me
It’s what I became

Somebody
Please take me
Please take me home

Year after year
I lost self-respect
And made up for it
Drowning in prayer
All of my family
Looked away, laughing
And eventually
They didn’t care
It didn’t matter
I let them treat me that way
With all of the ways out
I just stayed

I gave them more
Than I thought that I had
Recklessly piling up debt
Then came the time
When I called it all in
And nothing was all I could get

Now I don’t remember
What I was trying to do
Or what I meant to forget

Somebody
Please take me
Please take me home

I see it unravel, despite
All the years of my loyalty
A humble devotee, a soldier
Who stood on the line
I never aspired to be taken
As noble or royalty
But I never earned the disdain 
I’ve felt from them all of this time

Oh, now I resolve
Let slip the bonds
To handle the oars
And to row
Out to a place 
On the edge of the world
A place they said
I coudn’t go
I know what matters
Blessed with a gift
One last chance 
To find what I missed

I let chances go
One after another
Waiting for something in vain
Now I can see
They were messengers sent to me
Lovingly to ease my pain

Will i get the chance
To take it all back
Knowing nothing is ever the same?

We live out our lives
Collecting regrets ’till there’s 
Nobody left here to blame

But for once in my life
I can be so much more
Than that person they think I became

Please someone
Send me an angel
Who can come take me home

What I Became (Please Take Me Home)

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.

No Prophet Here

Mark Baughman's Working Theory