Classical

In the leafy crown of Northern Argentina
Like a slow-motion ballerina
She climbs, she cries, “Ah-ee! Ah-ee! Ah-ee! Ah-ee! Ah-ee!”
Her plea penetrates the forest, high and low
“Please wrap your limbs around me, only if you have three toes.”
Not so far away, hanging from a tree limb
He hears her cry. She does not see him
He turns her way, hoping this will be his lucky day

Descending in a flurry as quickly as he can, two hundred yards a day He drags himself across the tangled forest floor
She’s waiting patiently for him to reach her
Sloths come from near, they come from far
He’s pulling hard so he can be the first to climb into her tree. He wins! Out of breath from the race, he reduces his pace
Upside-down, they embrace, coupled, dangling in space
Once again face-to-face, all night long they linger, two as one
Too rapt to move a finger, not until the deed is done

In the dreamy, steamy crown of Northern Argentina
He rests, breathing gently in and out like virtuoso-mellowed concertina Bugs and algae call his coat home, he does not mind them
Harpy eagles hunt and jaguars prowl, they’ll never find him
He sleeps eighteen hours a day. Why on earth would he stray?
He’s got insects to eat, buds and leaves for a treat
So contented that he never has to worry where to be
He feels no need to hurry, not until she cries, “Ah-ee!”

Life would be so sweet, hanging by your feet Just like a three-toed sloth
No, he never has to hurry, not until he hears her plea, “Ah-ee!”

Day In The Life Of A Three-toed Sloth

Music by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, "Rondo alla Turca," from his Sonata No. 11 K331 for piano, words © Copyright 2007, 2015 Peter Lloyd.

Bedadeedadeep bedadeedadeep bedadeeda deedadeeda deedadeeda deep 
Bada rumpa bada rumpa bada rump bump bum

The Australian lizard known as Skink
Tongue of blue inside a mouth of pink
All of sixty centimeters long
Watch those teeth, his jaw is mighty strong
If he finds a date, spring’s his time to mate
Spends his summers sunnin’ and mornin’s sleepin’ late 
All the winter, deep beneath the leaves he lies in state. 

Bedadeedadeep bedadeedadeep bedadeeda deedadeeda deedadeeda deep 
Bada rumpa bada rumpa bada rump bump bum

Orange and umber with a racing stripe
Skink is not the energetic type
Sleeps alone in hollow, fallen logs
Runs away from hungry cats and dogs
Dingoes will pursue, kookaburras, too
If you get his hackles up, he’ll puff and hiss at you 
But some predators avoid him ‘cuz his tongue is blue

When he runs for his life, he lets his tail drop off behind him 
While his rump feeds his predator, he’s safely on his way 
Skink’s a wise little lizard, doesn’t need us to remind him 
You can lose your behind and live to run another day

Bedadeedadeep bedadeedadeep bedadeeda deedadeeda deedadeeda deep 
Bada rumpa bada rumpa bada rump bump bum

He is not a picky omnivore
Finds his dinner on the forest floor
Snails and beetles, any bug’ll do
Fruits and flowers, he can eat a few
Goes for slower prey, others get away
Likes to snatch his supper in the middle of the day 
To digest it just a bit of gravel works okay

When he runs for his life, he lets his tail drop off behind him 
While his rump feeds his predator, he’s safely on his way 
Skink’s a wise little lizard, needs no wizard to remind him 
You can lose your behind and live to run another day

The Australian lizard known as Skink
Tongue of blue inside a mouth of pink
All of sixty centimeters long
Watch those teeth, his jaw is mighty strong
I don’t make this up, you can call my bluff 
See Tiliqua scincoides intermedia
Go and look him up online in Wikipedia

                              

Skink the Lizard

Music by Peter Illych Tchaikovsky, Violin Concerto
Words © Copyright 2017 Peter Lloyd

My life is made of dreams
It seems all I do is dream
My dreams are of the life that I
Should have had, could have had, would have had

If life were like my dreams
I’d live all my life with you
Then you and I would see all of my dreams come true
If only, but I only

Dream when I’m alone
And I’m alone nearly all the time
It’s time you be the one I am
Sharing with, caring with, daring with

If you would wake me from
My dreams, oh what a life we’d lead
Just you and I so wide awake
We’d never waste another moment in a dream
No longer would I let my dreams replace life
We would embrace life
If only, but I only dream

I Only Dream

Words © Copyright 1984, 2015 Peter Lloyd
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart wrote the melody to this number, Divertimento in D KV 334

Bringing my son, David, home from the hospital a day or two after he was born, we heard Mozart's Divertimento in D on the radio—the first music David ever heard. I wrote this bit of advice to him soon after.

You were born with one, essential, fundamental thing that no one ever will explain
And if you use it with a bit of common sense, you will avoid unnecessary pain
It really pays to use
Yes, you were made to use
Don’t be afraid to use your brain

You can have the world and all its wonder as your plunder, but before you make your bed
Be sure to broaden your horizons just in case you want to take the universe instead
Don’t ever choose without
Never refuse without
You’re sure to lose without your head

Now it may seem kind of contradictory to you
From time to time when you are forced to listen to
Some old pedantic fool with nothing else to do
But prattle on and on and on
Then your challenge is to keep your balance
While you find the needle somewhere in the hay

Even though you lead and others follow, you will often feel alone because you’ll find
The very fact that you can keep your head in tact, means others are, in fact, the other kind
Don’t disapprove without
Never behoove without
Don’t make a move without your mind

Every now and then you’re bound to run into a few
Fanatics who will try to razzle-dazzle you
With happy hocus pocus hype and very
Unsophisticated points of view
You know better than to let them fetter
You with any rules that tell you not to use

The most precious and essential, fundamental thing that no one ever will explain
Be sure to use it with a bit of common sense. You will avoid unnecessary pain
It really pays to use
Yes, you were made to use
Don’t be afraid to use your brain

Your Brain

Words and music © Copyright 2015 Peter Lloyd based roughly on Symphony No. 40 in G minor, K. 550 by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Would you rather spend life in a dungeon 
Or a minute beside a curmudgeon?
Though a dungeon will surely distress you 
A curmudgeon will deeply depress you 
Though he doesn’t even know it
A curmudgeon always hurts the very ones he loves the most

Give him love, give him love
Give him love, give him love, give him love

A curmudgeon will seldom engage you
When he does, he will likely enrage you
If you make an attempt to befriend him
Be forever prepared to offend him

A curmudgeon can be quite demanding
For he needs absolute understanding
If you handle this small limitation
You may gain his complete affirmation
Though he doesn’t always show it
A curmudgeon never means to hurt the ones he loves the most

Give him love, give him love
Give him love, give him love, give him love

A curmudgeon will find it annoying
If you strike him as clingy or cloying
So you don’t need to be Helpful Hannah
Or a clueless, naive Pollyanna

So the next time you meet someone churly
Reconsider what makes him so surly 
Could it be that he’s acting so grumpy
Cuz his clothes are outdated and frumpy
Though he may not even know it
A curmudgeon simply needs to loosen up his B-V-Ds

Give him love, give him love
Give him love, give him love, give him love

Love a Curmudgeon

Words and music © Copyright 2024 Peter Lloyd
"Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" 1st Movement, K. 525

Look around and see if you can see
Any bird as beautiful as me

My splendor is notorious
My plumage glorious
My iridescent eyes

Brighter than the sunrise
Pretty as a moonbow
Deeper than the ocean
Bluer than the skies

I am wisdom, serendipity, enlightenment, with elegance and wealth, they say
I am masculine divinity, longevity, pure happiness and health

Happiness and health
Elegance and wealth

Yes, I bring them all to you
In iiving peacock blue
It’s what I love to do

I feel cocky, so would you, sir
If you had a peacock plume, sir
Have you ever seen such lovely eyes?
Such lovely eyes!

I see a pretty, little peahen
She’s in the mood for mating

I must not keep her waiting
I'm ready, rock steady, let's go!

I make my fan much larger
And then I start to charge her
I rattle every feather
Until we get together

Easy as pie, easy as pie 
I mesmerize my peahen with a hundred dazzling eyes

I make my fan much larger
And then I start to charge her
I rattle every feather
Until we get together

Easy as pie, easy as pie 
I mesmerize my peahen with a hundred dazzling eyes

No cockatoo could ever do
The voodoo only I can do
That's why [Adim]it’s true

Mother Nature loves me more than you
Mother Nature loves me more than she loves you

Peacock (guitar and vocal)

once i was an egg, not really round
no glint of light, no hint of sound
didn’t even know where i was bound
up in the air or underground

then i couldn’t wander anywhere
i had to stay, i had to wait
all alone, i didn’t have a prayer	
my chance to live was left to fate

my branch was brown and i was grey
when bugs would hunt, i was their prey

you can’t even hope to wrap your head around my dark and dreadful flight
a silent cell in endless night
somehow everything id ever be
i held somewhere inside of me  

my branch was brown and i was grey
when bugs would hunt, i was their prey

you can’t even hope to wrap your head around my dark and dreadful plight
a silent cell in endless night
somehow everything id ever be
i held somewhere inside of me


suddenly one day to my surprise 
had six legs, twelve weak eyes 
when your eyes are dim you realize
on smell and touch your life relies

slowly moving, eating at my ease
my life was chew or else be chewed
feasting every day on milkweed cheese
where i was born upon my food

my pace was slow, i made my way 
such a tasty bug buffet 

have you ever contemplated being trapped inside of such a circumstance?
I couldn't sing, I couldn’t dance
somehow everything id ever be
was growing deep inside of me

my pace was slow, i made my way 
such a tasty bug buffet

have you ever contemplated being trapped inside of such a circumstance?
I couldn't sing, I couldn’t dance
somehow everything id ever be
was growing deep inside of me


when at last i felt i was well fed
i found a spot to hang and shed
anchored to a twig by just a thread
my tiny heels above my head

so began my metamorphosis 
old skin lost, new skin spun
safe inside my cozy chrysalis
made hard by dazzling days of sun

i formed a body graced with wings
dashed with colors meant for kings

one by one, my dewy body parts began to soak up sun and dry
thorax and head, two antennae
brilliant colored wings prepared for flight
black and yellow, orange and white

i formed a body graced with wings
dashed with colors meant for kings

one by one, my dewy body parts began to soak up sun and dry
thorax and head, two antennae
brilliant colored wings prepared for flight
black and yellow, orange and white
   
now i am flying
a mi linda casa mexicana
adios, adios!

© Copyright 2025 Peter Lloyd

Metamorphosis

The fire’s low, the party’s over
Just you and I the last to go
Why can’t I bear to say goodbye
I think you know, I think you know

Tonight you spoke to me so sweetly
Each time you smiled, it felt so right
And when we danced, you drew me close
Is this the night? Is this the night?

Is it in the stars? Could it be the light?
Is it just the moon? Could it be the night?

The moonlit path looks so inviting
Beneath a dark and starry dome
I take you hand, you understand
I’ll walk you home, I’ll walk you home

Is it in the stars? Could it be the light?
Is it just the moon? Could it be the night?

The moonlit path looks so inviting
Beneath a dark and starry dome
I take you hand, you understand
I’ll walk you home, I’ll walk you home
Walk you home, I’ll walk you home

© Copyright 2025 Peter Lloyd
Melody borrowed from Puccini “Nessun Dorma”

Could It Be the Night?

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.