Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Thanks to Julie for reminding us what sharing art was like on the web before Facebook. It's a lot of fun to look back over songs we might have forgotten from those ancient times of 2005-2007. Here's what happens when you get carried away with puns. "Boring Alice" = borealis, etc..

PLANETARIUM

round up the school kids - put 'em on a field trip
here at the planetarium
where all of us planets - find our own orbits
here at the planetarium
big ones above us - little ones below us
here at the planetarium
starbursts and moon pies - milky ways, oh my my
here at the planetarium

do re mi
do re you
boring alice talks too much
she blasts off at the slightest touch – sailing away

monnlight, moonbright, takin’ up a nightflight
here…
solid fuel stallion – over the van allen
here…
jet full of promise – dodgin’ all the comets
here…
more graceful than judo – from mercury to pluto
here…

que sera
que paso
boring alice circles ‘round
in search of warm and friendly ground

i stare into the blackness – i stare into the sky
i stare at lunch and wonder about the twinkle in my eye

stars up in heaven – movie at eleven
here…
tom hanks we follow – up in the apollo
here…
after the breakdown, we gotta get ‘em back down
here…
‘cause breakdowns are heinous – not unlike Uranus
here…

do re mi
do re you
boring alice circles ‘round
in search of warm and friendly ground

i stare into the blackness – i stare into the sky
i stare at lunch and wonder about the twinkle in my eye


Thanks to Julie for reminding us what sharing art was like on the web before Facebook. It's a lot of fun to look back over songs we might have forgotten from those ancient times of 2005-2007. Here's one I've played a lot over the years. Written around 2000-2001

WHITE FLAGS

how do i love thee – let me count to ten
before i open up my mouth and say those words again
how can i back up with my back against the wall
i know it doesn’t bother you at all

why do i give up – only to give in
insisting on resisting on and on until the end
don’t roll your eyes back,damn you,listen to me now
i’d throw us in reverse if i knew how

cause i’m tired of pretending that this noose fits fine
and i’m just not myself around the gallows
call an emergency – call if you dare for me
out of the blue sky
where the hangman never hides

who can i finger perfectly as you
my former undercover desperado ingenue
God help the bounty hunters tracking down your heart
they just might surrender soon as start

and they’re tired of pretending that this trail aint cold
and they’re one more excuse away from leaving
call off the dogs and see who is the first to be holding their hands high
wavin’ white flags to the sky

lay it down for me….

how can you love me – let me breathe again
smothering the notion that we might be more than friends
love is the party guest that cannot take the hint
that my enthusiasm came and went

and i’m tired of pretending that this noose fits fine
and i’m just not myself around the gallows
call an emergency – call if you dare for me
out of the blue sky
where the hangman never hides

lay it down for me
and never bring it up again (i can’t get over)
no never bring it up again (i can’t get over).

Thursday, August 23, 2007

hey

I'm trying to get something going again. Bear with me while I figure out the workings of google groups, and then I can explain it to ya'll.

julie

Thursday, August 10, 2006

For Ray Augustine

Chicago recently suffered the loss of a great musician and wonderful friend with the passing of Ray Augustine. I had the pleasure of playing with him at many an open-mic and backyard BBQ over the years, as many of us did. We will all miss him.

In his memory, I want to post a song that he especially enjoyed playing with me - one that suited his soulful, lonesome harmonica perfectly. I wish I had an audio file I could post here, but for now, the lyrics will have to do.

THE METER

hard knocks and want-nots
trace their way to me
lost rails and buzzard tails
weave a strand for me

dry runs and pale suns
lay their claim to me
word-knives and staggered sighs
tighten up to me

it’s good to remember that it pays to forget
the meter’s been runnin’ awhile and it ain’t done yet.

high roads and half-loads
slip around to me
spare skies and alibis
lean in hard to me

[SOLO]

it’s good to remember that it pays to forget
the meter’s been runnin’ awhile and it ain’t done yet.

first signs and last times
make that crawl to me
old bells and wishing wells
stand on guard for me

(C)2001 Dave Donovan


Ray, that last boxcar has left the yard. We'll meet you somewhere down the tracks...

Friday, July 07, 2006

zombie babies

a bit of weirdness for the sake of being weird.

mama don't take your baby to the resurrection daycare
if he's dead you'd just better let him be
mama don't take your baby to the resurrection daycare
he'd be better off as a zombie

zom-buh-hee, etc

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

the ballad of thom & lucy

Thom stands on the hillside with the sunlight in his hair.
Lucy’s right beside him but he doesn’t know she’s there.
She is just a woman, so easy to forget.
When he leaves her all alone he’ll feel no regret
for those nights she’ll feel alone,
for those nights she’ll feel afraid,
in those beds she never made.

She says, “Kiss me, save me; I’m a girl in need.”
She says, “Kiss me, you could save me, I’m a girl in need, a girl in need.”

Her hair is full of daffodils & her pants are full of stars.
Her body’s made for cheap thrills in the backs of dirty cars.
Thom was her first boy but he sure was not the last.
Her body’s made for other’s joy and she likes to take it fast
on those nights she feels alone,
on those nights she feels afraid
in those beds she never made.

She says “Kiss me, save me; I’m a girl in need.”
She says, “Kiss me, you could save me—I’m a girl in need, a girl in need.”

Thom tells her rape isn’t real & the way that she feels is wrong,
but still she gets down and she kneels because he says, “It won’t take long.”
His days with her are numbered like the stars she knows by name.
She makes his heart beat like thunder,
but he doesn’t want to take the blame
for those nights she’ll feel alone…
and for those nights she’ll feel afraid
in those beds she never made.

She says, “Kiss me, save me; I’m a girl in need.”
She says: “Kiss me, you could save me—I’m a girl in need…a girl in need…”

Thom is in the gutter with Lucy at his side.
He just tried to kiss her, not noticing that she’s died:
her hair is full of lilies & there’s a raven at her eyes.
Thom was only looking for a girl he could define:
instead he found a girl who was alone;
instead he found a girl who was afraid
of those beds she never made.

She said “Kiss me, save me; I’m a girl in need.
Kiss me, you could save me…I could be the girl you need—”

—but he just didn’t see.

I wrote this a couple of years ago deliberately trying to write a song like "Shelter from the Storm" or "Tangled Up In Blue." I'm sure a lot of girls feel treated this way by the boys they know. I just hope Lucy doesn't come across as too "victimy" in this song... sometimes I think alot of my female protagonists (usually the "I") read as whiny and pathetic, but I don't think they are...or at least, I don't want them to be.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Late Nights

This is an example of songwriting from the gut. Or maybe stupid certitude. One of those times when you automatically "hear" a word or phrase being sung over your melody. So, you pursue it and - whatever the hell the word is - you create a story/portrait around it. For me - this happened with "Late Nights" - and the notes are F and C, just for the record. The chords are E flatmaj7/Em79 - courtesy of Roberta Joan Anderson. Thanks Roberta.

LATE NIGHTS

late nights
underneath the stars
one wish
comin true so far

hollow in my hand
gotta meet the man
of slow dissolve
spinning shadow tales
underneath the bridge
as he allows

its the worst in me
the worst in me
is all
I see when meteors
begin to fall

thin lines
runnin through this town
one rail
bending gently down

stenciled on my back
a stubborn one-way track
to hide away
whistling so near
spikes of lead and hammers
here to stay

its the best in me
the best in me
is all inside

as i keep on trading
vultures out for whipporwills
with the branches
holding steady an unseen
murder of crows
waiting to take their turn
in the silent crossfire
that waits for me
indeed

dark doors
lining every street
driveways
snaking in between

scattered heartbeats sound
to check the echoes round
and contemplate
distances between
gates and borders
of these sad estates

its the worst in me
the worst in me
is all
i feel when this town's
pulse begins to fall

old roads
running out and back
circles
no one sems to crack

dancing out of breath
limping in the stretch
but shouldering
one more swing at it
got to think of it
as soldiering

its the best in me
the best in me
is all inside

and i keep on trading
vultures out for whipporwills
with the branches
holding steady an unseen
murder of crows
waiting to take their turn
in the silent crossfire
that waits for me
indeed.

(c)2006DaveDonovan

Monday, April 24, 2006

anything but sad

it is so quite new a thing
this feeling that I have
I never thought I'd be
anything but sad

then you came along
in your canvas shoes
drinking coffee from a paper cup
and singing lonesome blues

doot doot doo doo doo etc

I can't recall the time or place
it was midnight maybe two
I only saw your face
I was aware of only you

you were shining like a beacon
in the dark and velvet night
I never thought I'd live to see
such a beautiful light

doot doot doo doo doo etc

you kissed me in a doorway
and instantly I fell
even though I skinned my knees
you liked me just as well

it is quite so new a thing
this feeling that we have
we never thought we'd be
anything but sad
anything but sad

doot doot doo doo doo etc