What is left to us except to describe?
Inscribe our lives in a hive of songs
Turning  every one of us into beekeepers
Not enough suits to go around

Not enough suits to go around;
Some of us will go in bare-handed,
Bare-headed, wide-eyed
But the honey is overflowing
By the roadside:
Clover and pine

Turning every one of us into beekeepers,
Beekeepers
(clover and pine)

Hive Of Songs

Wrote this song to remind myself not to be lazy.
So far, its not working.


Lyrics: 

What are you waiting for? 
Here’s the window, there’s the door
And there’s nothing behind either one
You haven’t seen before

So what is there to choose? 

Strike while the iron’s hot
Strike while the iron’s hot

Old news, old news… 
Here they come around again 
Reading us their old news
Old news, old news… 
Here they come around again 
Reading us their old news

Saying: what is there to lose?

Strike while the iron’s hot
Strike while the iron’s hot
How many years are you thinking we’ve got?

Sometimes I dream
Of a place by the sea
Where nothing ever happens to me
But I ought to know better:
I am a child of inclement weather

So I’ll strike while the iron’s hot
Strike, while the iron’s hot
Strike… (old news, old news…)

Strike while the iron’s hot
How many years are you thinking we’ve got?
Maybe 50 more— maybe not. 

Strike

Back in the States

Fun fact #1: Sometimes when it's cold out, I turn into a reptile. 

Fun fact #2: Reptiles are pretty lazy lyricists.

Sunday Morning Song

It’s too cold to write
It’s too cold to write 
The morning’s a lady in a perfect coat of white				
And it’s too cold to write
Yeah it’s too cold to write

And it’s too early to call
It’s too early to call
You’ll be going to church if you’re going anywhere at all
And it’s too early to call 				
It’s too early to call

What have we started? 
And which of us will be the first 
To follow our tracks back 
To the woods?
Where the snow falls lighter 
And north is just a letter
And everything is unnamed
And good
(And everything is unnamed, and good...)

It’s too cold to write
It’s too cold to write 
I found all the words but I cannot keep ’em right				
Because it’s too cold to write
Yeah it’s too cold to write

Sunday morning song

Happily rewritten for a most special occasion. Congrats, friends. :)

Lionheart

R & J, this one is just waiting for your beautiful harmonies!

Please forgive: the slight overcaffeination, and the utter lack of metronome.

Fall In February

Has anyone got a mini xylophone I can borrow? :P

Lyrics:

Like fire on the lake
The sun sets scarlet and late
As green-backed swallows dip low
Tempting fate
As shadows on the shore,
We add no sound to the roar
Of a million stars or more
On an empty slate

And your fingers laced in mine
Keep me fixed in space and time
As I try not to say what I want to say:

	All this will fade
	All this will fade

Morning dawns bright							
With no reason to fight
Just a chronological right
To show its face
As we on the ground
Are sleeping safe, dreaming sound					
The whole world spinning around;						
We don’t feel a thing

And the light across your face
Greets me kindly when I wake					
Gently says what I cannot say:			

	All this will fade
	All this will fade

And how I wish I could stay…

But I will will no man no divine hand					
Nor birch nor bay to keep me where I am		
I will stand next to you
My flash of fool’s gold in the pan

And I will will no man no divine hand					
Nor works nor prayer to keep me where I stand
I will stand next to you
To run the days down while we can

And I will not be afraid… Knowing that 
	This too will fade
My love and my limbs and you will fade
The morning chill, and the heat of the sun-ripe day
Oh our time and our tears and this tune, they all will fade

But isn’t it sweet while it stays?
Isn’t it sweet while it stays…
Isn’t it sweet while it stays?
Wasn’t it sweet while it stayed…

Fade

Lyrics:

Oh I’m a little shy, I know.
Won’t be the first to speak;
I let the ice break on its own.
An even keel and a steady boat--
With a restless heart that hammers out the notes,

Singing:
I will not bend, will not break, will not back down 
I will not bend, will not break
I will not bend, will not break, will not back down
I’ll be here as long as it takes
Ah, now—

And we’re a little scared, I see				
Seems every headline drags us farther out 
From where we wanted to be
Til we’re strangers from the land
Our best intentions slipping with the sand…

Oh but
We will not bend, will not break, will not back down 
We will not bend, will not break
We will not bend, will not break, will not back down
We’ll be here as long as it takes
Ah, now—

	And there is a brighter world
	There is a kinder world  (x3)
	And it’s calling to me
	With a voice insistent and sweet, singing:

Girl, don’t you bend don’t you break don’t you back down
No don’t you bend don’t you break
Take all you’ve got throw it into the ring now
Girl you don’t know what’s at stake, come on… 

So I will not bend, will not break, will not back down 
I will not bend, will not break
I’ll search all the Earth, work my hands to the bone
Until I can mend what I make

Mend What I Make

Lyrics:

I won’t be talked to 
I won’t be soothed
Gonna sit here in my old chair
And wring out the blues

I won’t be talked to 
In that way
Seems every fellow’s got 
The same five things to say
And I’ve heard them all
A time or two

	Gonna stand my ground, 
	Have a good, long cry
	Put these strings in tune…
	And wring out the blues

I’m gonna wring ’em out like the last bit of laundry 
On a Saturday afternoon
I’m gonna wring ’em out like an old dishrag
Worn from years of use
Gonna wring ’em out like the sleeves of your sweater
When we’re caught in a sudden rain
Gonna wring ’em out like a weathered heart
That loves and loves (and loves) again

I won’t be waiting
For him to come down 
From his fevered dreams and silver schemes
And his romance with the sound
Of his own voice
Echoing round

	Gonna stand my ground, 
	Have a good, long cry
	Put these strings in tune…
	And wring out the blues

I’m gonna wring ’em out like the last bit of laundry 
On a Saturday afternoon
I’m gonna wring ’em out like an old dishrag
Worn from years of use
Gonna wring ’em out like the sleeves of your sweater
When we got caught in that sudden rain
Gonna wring ’em out like a weathered heart
That loves and loves and loves again

Give me some paper
And a pair of walking shoes
I’m gonna write my way into that old café
Where they still let you play the blues

And we’re gonna wring ’em out…

A Time or Two

Moving to a new page! Hope to see you there. :)

the burnished beet

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