Blues

Unlove Songs

AI Music

Bmw Adv

Copy of Soul

소울댄스

© Copyright 1972, 2002 by Peter Lloyd

Two o’clock when I lay down, three o’clock when I rise
I can’t get no sleep with all these tears in my eyes
I walk around, baby, and I don’t talk too much
How am I supposed to operate with my heart on a crutch? 
It ain’t easy when your lover leave you all alone

My woman, she’s so mean she done move across the street
I sit here on my front porch and watch the company that she keep 
I can still remember when she used to love to make me smile
I guess it’s somebody else’s turn to carry the ball for a while
It ain’t easy when your lover leave you all alone

Her love was all I had, I suppose it made me feel to proud
Had a love for that low-life woman that the law just don’t allow
I would join the Salvation Army, ain’t no mountain I wouldn’t climb 
I’d learn to sing like Frank Sinatra if she’d love me one more time 
It ain’t easy when your lover leave you all alone
It ain’t easy when your lover leave you all alone

I take my handle in my hand and I pass around the pan
I feel like I just don’t fit and I fear I never can
See me sitting here about to give up my Holy Ghost?
That’s no way for a man to feel, but that’s the way I feel 
most of the time 
It ain’t easy when your lover leave you all alone

Two candles burn in my chest. One is black and the other one’s white
One tells me I ought to live and the other says, “Go give up and die.”
So I throw three pennies on the floor, one is tails 
and the other one’s heads 
I’ll never know what the third one said, cuz it rolled underneath the bed 
It ain’t easy when your lover leave you all alone
It ain’t easy when your lover leave you all alone

Front Porch Blues

© Copyright 2022 Peter Lloyd

When they discovered me, they gave a name
Some sort of underworld god
They told me planet life meant fortune and fame
I found that was all a façade

Expecting nothing but an orbital blast
I joined my eight planet peers
So what if one revolution would last
Two-hundred-forty-eight years


Once I had some status, life was great
Outer limits were mine
Way beyond old Neptune, number eight
Back when I was planet nine

I still cut an orit far and wide
Orbiting Sun’s outer line 
Now without my status or my pride
Back when I was planet nine


Me and five moons, in Kuiper’s belt
So what if our footprint was small
Ice and rock too damn cold to melt
Our orbit’s still the biggest of all

Remember who they called a Roman god
Before they made me resign
Before they found my appellation flawed
Back when I was planet nine

Back When I Was Planet Nine

The Canadian plains, they stretch and they strain
A thousand miles north of Alpena
Cold, like a curse, drives a ghost-colored hearse
And drones like a Latin novena

Buffalo Jill leaves her calf on the hill
Too broken to run any longer
The pack, standing by, howls, “No time to cry
The weaker make food for the stronger"

When you come back home, run my finger-comb through your hair
Rest my weary head on your strong, young shoulder
When you comin' home? Waitin' for an omen, or what?
Don't forget, ain't nobody ain't growin' older 
Ain't nobody ain't growin' older

The fireman knows how to handle his hose
His truck's painted red for a reason
But I know the way out back 'round the bay
Where the big 'uns are runnin' this season

When you come back home, run my finger-comb through your hair
Rest my weary head on your strong, young shoulder
When you comin' home? Waitin' for an omen, or what?
Don't forget, ain't nobody ain't growin' older 
Ain't nobody ain't growin' older

From a bucket of swords come diminished-fifth chords
That must make you feel quite clever
Yes, time comes in spates, and I know Tom Waits
But nobody waits forever

When you come back home, run my finger-comb through your hair
Rest my weary head on your strong, young shoulder
When you comin' home? Waitin' for an omen, or what?
Don't forget, ain't nobody ain't growin' older 
Ain't nobody ain't growin' older 
Ain't nobody ain't growin' older

Words © Copyright 2014, 2025 Peter Lloyd
Music by Suno.com AI

Winter Solstice

Words and music © Copyright 1969, 1999, 2015 Peter Lloyd

A long time ago, I took a History of Broadcasting course taught by Jack Rouse at the University of Cincinnati College Conservatory of Music. Jack spent a good deal of time on the story of the great inventor Thomas Edison.

I went home after the Edison lesson and wrote the song. Most of it is true. Including the part about "Mary Had a Little Lamb" and Tom's thaumatrope, praxinoscope, and phenakistoscope.

Every time you lay down in bed
You got no control what comes into your head
I lay down the other night alongside of my cat
Thinking about the weather and things like that
When a dream took me back a year or two
I woke up with the Tom Edison Blues

‘Tain’t enough to create. ‘Snot enough to invent
You wanna do it right. Get your name in lights.  Gotta imp-a-lement

I was up in my lab near the break of day
When a woman walked in and said, “Hey, let’s play!”
I said, “I’ve gotta make a light bulb before dawn
She said, “Come on, Tom, let me turn you on.”
“I’ve been up all night, I can’t quit now.” 
She said, “Gimme a chance, I’ll show you how.”
I said, “History’s waiting, I can’t clown around.” 
She said, “Don’t look now, but your pants just fell down. 
 Sure enough, I was standing there naked
No way to hide it, no way to fake it.
So I ran behind my phonograph
Played “Mary Had a Little Lamb” to make her laugh.
She said, “Too bad, Mary, if you dig sheep
But I like inventors, cuz they never sleep.”

‘Tain’t enough to create. ‘Snot enough to invent
You wanna do it right. Get your name in lights.  Gotta imp-a-lement

Well, your dreams are pretty free and you can do what you please
So I tried to change myself into somebody mean.
I said, “Look, I’m your pa, I’m gonna give you a spanking.” 
She said,  “You look more like Benjamin Franklin.”
So I made like the devil with a whip and a sword
But she said I reminded her of Henry Ford.
Then I tried to make her fear for her very life
I said, “Settle down, you’re gonna wake up my wife.” 
She said, “Tom, while you’re up here, leaving her all alone
She’s out with some ding-a-ling inventing telephones.”

‘Tain’t enough to create. ‘Snot enough to invent
You wanna do it right. Get your name in lights.  Gotta imp-a-lement

Then I tried to distract her with my thomatrope
My phantasmagorica, and my prakcinescope.
When she paid no attention to my pharaktoscope
I knew my motion-picture camera was my only hope
So I rolled my first film about the factory
And all the workers trudging out as tired as can be
But the sun came up and filled my lab with light
I said, “I guess I’ll knock off till tomorrow night.”
She said, “Tom, you see that light bulb in your pocket? 
 I can make it shine because I got the socket.”

‘Tain’t enough to create. ‘Snot enough to invent
You wanna do it right. Get your name in lights.  Gotta imp-a-lement

Then phone rang, woke me up, to my surprise
I was kissing my cat and it was scratching out my eyes 
I answered the phone, mad as hell. 
I said, “Where’s my wife, Alexander Graham Bell?”

‘Tain’t enough to create. ‘Snot enough to invent
You wanna do it right. Get your name in lights.  Gotta imp-a-lement

See http://peterlloyd.com/music/cds/infah/index.shtml for all I'm Not From Around Here credits.

Thomas Edison Blues

Words and music © Copyright 1996, 2015 Peter Lloyd

You wear the pants in your family 
And I'll wear the pants in mine
 We'll get together every once in awhile 
And have ourselves a time on the sly 
But we could never get along for more than a week at a time
So you wear the pants in your family and I'll wear the pants in mine

I need a clean, wholesome type of gal 
To give my life a sense of calm
But you've showed me you are never really satisfied 
Until you think you've got me in your palm 
You’ve just gotta be the boss and you swear you'll never toe the line
You wear the pants in your family and I'll wear the pants in mine

Last Sunday night we strolled through the park
And bathed in the gold moonlight 
We came to the fountain where the path makes a Y
I went left and you went right 
We had better part our ways and hope the wound is healed in time
You wear the pants in your family and I'll wear the pants in mine

You want me there when I'm over here
And when I'm over there you want me gone
 You bring me down whenever things are looking up
And never look me up when things are down 
How could we make this house a home, with pots 'n pans flying all the time?
You wear the pants in your family and I'll wear the pants in mine

I married you. Right? And you married me. Okay. 
Right here's the part where I get lost
I swore I heard you say that you would honor and obey
I guess you must’ve had your fingers crossed 
I gotta hand it to you, gal. You really handed me a line
So you wear the pants in your family and I'll wear the pants in mine

I'll wear the pants in... I'll wear the pants in...  I'll wear the pants in mine

Your Pants

Words and music © Copyright 1995, 2015 Victor Harrison and Peter Lloyd

Can you hear the bankers holler, “You’re leveraged to the hilt.”
You’ve bet bottom dollar just to get your business built
There’s little satisfaction and you’re under lots of stress
You toss and turn and wonder, how’d I get into this mess?

You got the cash-flow blues
You got the cash-flow blues
No remedy’s been found 
That can turn that flow around
You got the  cash-flow blues

Your accountant tells you gently, you can’t service all your debt
Your operation’s suffering, your boys are upset
Your hair’s gone gray from worry, your body’s lying limp 
You used to be so macho, but you’re feeling like a wimp

You got the cash-flow blues
You got the cash-flow blues
No remedy’s been found 
That can lift you off the ground
Boy, you got the  cash-flow blues

The IRS is after you for always paying late
Your bills are piling higher than the bridge called Golden Gate
Your wife’s about to leave you, cuz you’re never ever home
Your kids can never talk to you, you’re always on the phone

You got the cash-flow blues
You got the cash-flow blues
No remedy’s been found 
That can turn that flow around
You got the  cash-flow blues

Can you hear the bankers holler, “You’re leveraged to the hilt.”
You’ve bet bottom dollar just to get your business built
There’s little satisfaction and you’re under lots of stress
You toss and turn and wonder, how’d I get into this mess?

You got the cash-flow blues
You got the cash-flow blues
No remedy’s been found 
That can turn that flow around
You got the  cash-flow blues

Cash Flow Blues

Words and music © Copyright 1970, 2015 Peter Lloyd

This song has been around since 1970. I still wonder how such an inexperienced young man managed to write it? I do recall that it owes its central image to Rudolf Dirk's Mama Katzenjammer.
Pardon my French.

Well, she gets me up in the morning and she hits me upside the head 
Tears the covers off me and jerks me out of bed
Stirs my coffee with an old fingernail file
And she wonders why I don’t wake up with a smile
She says, How come you never wake up with a smile?

Hard-hearted, mule-headed, tight-fisted, bitter-lipped
Foot-stomping, door-slamming, 
Rolling pin woman, you’re bringing me down

I met her on the subway and I offered her my seat
She was about the prettiest woman I had ever hoped to meet 
She said, “Come on up to my room and we’ll have a cup of wine.”
It was then I laid my future on the line
From then on, it was no longer mine 

For she spun a spider web and she tied the knot tight
I was seduced and reduced before I had a chance to fight 
I didn’t run, I admit, but if I ever live twice
I’m gonna keep them pretty women out of my sight
If I see one, I’m gonna poke out my eyes

Hard-hearted, mule-headed, tight-fisted, bitter-lipped
Foot-stomping, door-slamming, 
Rolling pin woman, you’re bringing me down

Oh, I’d leave her if I could, but I can’t, so I won’t
I’ve tried so many times and it hurts so much, I don’t
She’s got me hung up on her like the clothes out on the line 
And then they tell me love is the might tie that binds
Sure, just like a noose in due time

Hard-hearted, mule-headed, tight-fisted, bitter-lipped
Foot-stomping, door-slamming, 
Rolling pin woman, you’re bringing me down

Now all you single men, you best take my advice
If you think you’re in love,  think twice
If your woman’s kind of plain, you might give her a chance 
But if she’s one of them beautiful women, you’re not gonna last 
Them gorgeous gals, they run you down much too fast
I’m warning you, she’ll turn into a

Hard-hearted, mule-headed, tight-fisted, bitter-lipped
Foot-stomping, door-slamming, 
Rolling pin woman, you’re bringing me down

See http://peterlloyd.com/music/cds/infah/index.shtml for all I'm Not From Around Here credits.

Rollin Pin Woman

Words and music © Copyright 1973, 2001, 2015 Peter Lloyd

Love is stupid, but I fell in love anyway
You can kick me in the head, throw me out the window 
I’m a fool. I came to you for love

Love is dumb, like swinging your hammer and hitting your thumb 
You can take me to the judge, let him hit me with the book
I’m a fool. I came to you for love

Love is like walking out in the rain and getting snowed on 
It’s like laying down in front of a train and getting rolled over 
Love is like putting your hand in the fire
You always get burned. How come you never learn?

I was singing along with the Gillette commercial
When my daddy lifted me up on his knee one night 
Between rounds of the Rocky Marciano-Sugar Ray Robinson championship fight
                    
He said, “Son, some day you’re gonna be a man, just like Rocky and Sugar Ray.
And I want you to be ready when you walk out that door to put up your dukes and make your own way.
                    
"I don't care if you go in for boxing, football, baseball, or even hockey.
One of these days you're gonna be in the ring just like Sugar Ray and Rocky.
                    
"Because no matter how you look at it—life is a fight.
Just like on the TV, except it won’t exactly be black and white. 
You see, even when you know you're right, and no matter how good and hard you fight,
Somebody's gonna call you bum, lightweight, even powder puff..." 
That’s when my mom butt in, “Okay, Ed. That’s enough.”
                
But my dad just went on and on and on and on 
I tuned back in when he was saying something about a punch in the nose
Keeping your guard up, look for an opening. Fake, bob and weave, Hit ‘em with a combination
 
And then, I remember him saying, "I just want you to work hard at whatever you do,
No matter what it is you decide to do.
You can be a goalie or the heavyweight champion of the world, you know I’ll be proud of you.
                    
"Just don’t get discouraged when you make mistakes
Because we all get knocked down now and then
The only time you have to worry is if you make a mistake
And then go back out and make the same mistake again and again..."

Love, take my advice. It’s like coming up once after going down twice 
You can take my fool head and smash it in the vice
I’m a fool. I came to you for love 

And all I got what a kick in the head, a knife in the back
and a broken heart love is dumb

Love Is Stupid

Words and music © Copyright 2003, 2015 Peter Lloyd

There was a whole lot of suspense in the way she walked 
She didn’t make no sense, but I let her talk and talk 
I musta had a hole in my head

She made this silly little giggle, kinda like Betty Boop 
Got me runnin round her wiggle like a hula hoop 
I musta had a hole in my head

I musta had a whole in my head
Musta been three feet wide
How else could that woman work her way inside 
I musta had a hole in my head
She sure made a mess of my mind 

Some women’ll mess your mind no matter who you are 
You can be Bill Gates or some big high-tech tsar
You can be Brad Pitt gettin’ tossed out of a bar
You can be Tiger Woods coming in way under par 
You can be Clint Eastwood chompin’ a stub cigar
You can be James Christie hawkin’ a hot Renoir
You can be Snoop Dog ridin’ a long, white car
You can be Elvis Presley strummin’ a big, black guitar 
You can be Stephen Hawing gazin’ up at a star
You can be Johnny Depp sportin’ a sword and a scar, but 
You’ll still end up with a hole in your head

I musta had a whole in my head
Musta been three feet wide
How else could that woman work her way inside 
I musta had a hole in my head
She sure made a mess of my mind 

No other way  to explain this pain in my brain 
I musta had a hole in my head

See http://peterlloyd.com/music/cds/infah/index.shtml for all I'm Not From Around Here credits

Hole In My Head

Here's a small taste of the songs that I do on a typical gig.

My Girl- The Temptations

http://fotos.subefotos.com/0e1acad7d9f64f758c1696354fff7af0o.png

Spending My Time FL Studio Cover

Lungu Boy

A country music track with a humorous vibe. This song is about a relationship going south. Love doesn't always go bad, but when it does, it goes something like this number composed with Buck "Tiger by the Tail" Owens in mind.

Credits: Written & Produced by: Peter Lloyd 

Connect with Peter Lloyd at music@peterlloyd.com
#Title #singer-songwriter #NewMusic #PeterLloyd

Lyrics:

© Copyright 1992, 2015 Peter Lloyd

She used to  call me every Friday morning
And we'd go dancing every Friday night
But now she lays around, she never takes me out to paint the town 
Her feet don't get it any more

She used to  tickle me between the covers
She'd keep me up all hours of the night
But now she's cold as ice, she's got some batteried device 
Her hips don't get it any more

I know this hasn't been exactly
What a marriage oughta be
But if you only get out what you put into
I got plenty coming to me

She made me  give up hunting and hard liquor
She taught me how to count cholesterol
But now she smokes in bed and looks extremely overfed 
Her heart don't get it any more

I know this hasn't been exactly
What a marriage oughta be
But if you only get out what you put into
I got plenty coming to me 

She used to  always ask me my opinion
She'd call me twice a day for my advice
But now she  leaves me notes, she even tries to tell me how to vote

Her head don't get it
Her heart don't get it
Her hips sure don't get it
Her feet don't get it
She still might bear it but she sure don't grin it
Cuz she don't get it anymore

She Used To

Pagode do Cavaco e Voz, Vol. 1

Billionaire / Talismã / Rock With You / Envolvidão / Zero a Cem

Just Wanna Be Your Girl X Luxurious Mix

Softer

I exist because of you

Queria hablar español, and so
I wandered my way to Bolivia 
Now from my cell in the heart of La Paz
I pine for my lovely Olivia

Olivia appeared like a long-lost dream
From Heaven she said God had hastened her
“Sip my elixir of love,” she implored 
 My trust then I readily placed in her

We sang to the stars of the southern sky
And sipped sucumbé, tea and lemonade
Danced to the whims of her passion until
Polícia cut short our escapade

O-li-iv-ia, if God sent you down from the sky to me 
O-li-iv-ia, when I asked you your age, why’d you lie to me?    

My sentence may outlive my life, but now
I must not let misery harden me
Locked in La Paz for the rest of my life 
I pray presidente may pardon me

O-li-iv-ia, if God sent you down from the sky to me 
O-li-iv-ia, when I asked you your age, why’d you lie to me?    

My lovely Olivia. Of course, I forgive ya
Olivia, I give ya my love    
Olivia, te doy mi amor    

© Copyright 2025 Peter Lloyd
Music composed with Suno AI

Olivia

Another November I stand with the trees
Their black branches robbed by a mean autumn breeze
I lean on a tall oak, my cheek to her bark
And mourn my companion as the woodland grows dark

Oh, I miss my companion, always more, never less
As the years wrap around me, they embrace my distress
I return to you empty. Speak again what you teach
From the ages inside you round and as wide as my reach

Then the oak speaks for hours and her wisdom I heed
I hear in her silence all the solace I need
"Stay standing, she minds me, "let death do its worst
"Welcome each sunrise as if it's your first"

Yes, another November I stand with the trees
Their black branches robbed by a mean autumn breeze
I must leave you again now with tears on your bark
But I'll come back each autumn till my memory goes dark

© Copyright 2025 Peter Lloyd
Music with Suno AI

Companion

Justine, you make me feel so clean
Justine, you make me feel so clean
You took my love and run it through the washing machine

Justine, I hate to walk with you downtown
Justine, I hate to walk with you downtown
You talk so loud and you're always putting me down

Justine, you make me feel so clean
Justine, you make me feel so clean
You took my love and run it through the washing machine

Justine, you wear your clothes inside out
Justine, you wear your clothes inside out
Your hearts so full of anger and your heads so full of doubt

Justine, you make me feel so clean
Justine, you make me feel so clean
You took my love and run it through the washing machine

Justine, come and get your cigarets
Justine, come and get your cigarets
You left them on the table and I'm trying to forget

Justine, you make me feel so clean
Justine, you make me feel so clean
You took my love and run it through the washing machine

© Copyright 1976, 2000 , 2025Peter Lloyd
Music with Suno AI

Justine

Well, I never climbed a mountain, no, I never even tried
What’s the point of crawlin halfway to the sky? 
When everything I wanna see is somewhere in your eyes
And I never have to ever leave your side 

No, I’ll never solve a mystery or cure a rare disease
My face will never grace Time magazine 
And though I try to please you and keep you trouble free
I can never ever give you guarantees 

But every day I try to make you smile and never cry
Help you soothe your wounds and chase away your blues 
I’ll never get it all right and always come up shy
But I’ll never ever give you alibis 

Oh, there’s so much more I haven’t done and so much more to do
To be the man you hoped that I would be 
But there’ll always be one promise you can count on comin true
I will never, no not ever, not love you 

And every day I try to make you smile and never cry
Help you soothe your wounds and chase away your blues 
I’ll never get it all right and always come up shy
And I’ll never ever give you alibis 

Oh, there’s so much more I haven’t done and so much more to do
To be the man you hoped that I would be 
But there’ll always be one promise you can count on comin true
I will never, no not ever, not love you

No, I’ll never, no not ever, not love you 

Words © Copyright 2014 Peter Lloyd
Music with help from Suno AI

Never

let’s remember Alice Ball, long unrecognized 
found a cure for leprosy, so long ago   
Alice died at twenty-three      
white men called her work their own
I think we all know why
I think we all know why

let us give Charles Drew his due, long unrecognized
taught us how to share our blood, so long ago
volunteered to donate first
white men turned charles drew away
I think we all know why
I think we all know why

where have all the lepers gone?
Alice healed them all
blood banks save so many lives
Charles made it so
why were they not recognized?
jealous white men feared their fame

I think we all know why
I think we all know why

© Copyright 2025
Music with Suno AI

We All Know Why

we freestyled this song on ARIatHome's livestream on the streets of nyc 8 days ago, recorded it this week, and here it is <3 

Hold Me

She needed someone to talk to
Just as you happened to walk by
You marked the day and the hour
As if you had no scars to hide

She brought you silver and sunshine
You thought she opened up the sky
Don’t let her bright eyes delude you
Your sun and moon will soon collide

You’re headed for a heartbreak
All your stars are falling, falling
Falling all the wrong way
Headed for a heartbreak
I hope you know it breaks my heart
To see you headed that way
Uh-uh-uh-uh-oh!

When she decides to undo you
No doubt you’ll be the last to know
As walls come crashing around you
Just understand you’re not alone

You’re headed for a heartbreak
All your stars are falling, falling
Falling all the wrong way
Headed for a heartbreak
I hope you know it breaks my heart
To see you headed that way
Uh-uh-uh-uh-oh!

Headed for a heartbreak, Uh-uh-uh-uh-oh!
Headed for a heartbreak, Uh-uh-uh-uh-oh!

© Copyright 2025 Peter Lloyd 
mudic by suno ai

Headed for a Heartbreak

So Petty

Roxette It Must Have Been Love

Tennessee Whiskey & I'd rather go blind MASHUP

Tennessee Whiskey & I'd rather go blind - Chris Stapleton & Etta James (Cover by Anna Luna)

Songwriter since 1966. Can't believe I still have to write protest songs. Prefer writing love songs and songs of praise for stand-up women and men, parodies, lyrical nonsense, blues and adaptations.