The Year of My Fall
Greg Scheer
April 2018
1a. I was born to soon.
It was all brand new.
I’ve had to make it up as I go.
But I found my way
and I found my place
and I found some joy in it all.
1b. I was born again;
don’t know exactly when,
but I know my heart was strangely warmed.
Lived a life of grace–
at least it felt that way–
but then the whole damn thing came crashing down to the ground.
Did Satan ask the Lord to sift my soul?
Take everything away from me, like Job?
I’m not one to question God,
but I liked how things were before…
the year of my fall.
2. I remember how
I thought I had it all.
Maybe I did, but now I’ll never know.
Lightning struck me twice,
then it became my life.
Who I was before, I can barely recall.
Cradling my head in empty hands;
the facts are clear, but I still don’t understand
how I had so much, but somehow managed to lose it all
in the year of my fall.
3. In a twist of fate,
I would die too late
to be spared the pain of it all.
I do what I can
with the days I have
and try not to dwell on what’s lost.
Where the river runs nobody knows.
The current sweeps us on in its blind force.
There’s no going back; there’s only hope I’ll survive at all…
Does fate or grace or karma guide me now?
Or is it just dumb luck and nothing more?
I’m praying for some mercy in the years that lie beyond.
I’m pleading for some mercy in the years that lie beyond.
I’m begging for some mercy in the years that lie beyond
the year of my fall.
The Deeper You Get
Greg Scheer
December 5, 1988
1. Has he written a song for you?
Well this makes five from me,
and you say, you get along you two;
well, we’ll see
if he is all he’s cut out to be,
or if he changes in a while.
People aren’t always what they seem
when they smile.
The deeper and deeper you get, the more you’ll find
the truth to be just what I said; and then you’ll see
that you have been wasting your time. You’ll come to me
’cause I have been waiting so long for your love to be mine.
2. Does he think of you all the time,
or only when you’re there?
You are with me everywhere I go;
and one more thing: I’d like to know
if he has written a song for you?
My inspiration is so strong
that I feel the sixth one coming on,
and it won’t be long before
The deeper and deeper you get, the more you’ll find
the truth to be just what I said; and then you’ll see
that you have been wasting your time
with a man like this
the deeper, and deeper, and deeper, and
deeper you get the more you’ll see in me.
He looks good now, but given time he’ll sink
to what he was without your love
and then you’ll see, you’ll see…
The deeper and deeper you get, the more you’ll find
the truth to be just what I said; and then you’ll see
that you have been wasting your time. You’ll come to me
’cause I have been waiting so long for your love to be mine.
The deeper and deeper you get.
Never Perfect
Greg Scheer, 2018
1. St. Valentine,
can you share a little wisdom?
You were chaste, but love’s your business.
It’s your day, but it’s my daily burden.
My love and I, we have our holiday traditions,
like the way we ruin Christmas
and anniversaries over stupid things like the dishes.
It’s never perfect.
2. St Valentine,
Do you take prayers from weary lovers
who aren’t looking for another,
but wonder how they turned into business partners or brothers?
Why does love seem so perfect at a distance?
Does the consummation kill it?
Wondering if it’s worth it,
when it’s never perfect.
It’s never perfect.
3. St. Valentine,
you were a saint, but I’m sinner.
I pray the pain of love won’t kill me,
but I’m afraid that prayer’s not working.
It’s never perfect.
An Ocean (Prayer to St. Patrick)
Greg Scheer
February 4, 2014
1. Do you remember
the night we fell in love?
We were closer than a kiss,
pressing hip to hip,
and I said, “I can’t…
I just can’t get enough.”
We were drinking
to St. Patrick and our love.
I said, “God bless the holy saint
of water and of drink!”
And you laughed, “Maybe…
maybe you’ve had enough.”
2. This year
your kiss was quick, my drink was long.
Do I think another round
will finally drown
this feeling
that we’ve been two islands all along?
There’s an ocean; an ocean;
There’s an ocean; an ocean;
There’s an ocean between me
and my love.
3. St. Patrick,
you sailed the sea to set sinners free.
If ever there was a soul
adrift and alone,
St. Patrick,
it is me.
There’s an ocean; an ocean;
There’s an ocean; an ocean;
There’s an ocean between me
and everyone I love.
Jesus Christ, I need a miracle:
like water into wine, or life for Lazarus.
‘Cause all I I have now is the party trick
of turning beer into piss.
And I can’t… I just can’t get enough.
I can’t… I just can’t get enough.
I can’t… I just can’t get enough.
Toothpaste
Greg Scheer
February 14, 2014
1. Have you lost faith?
Have you lost heart?
Has what is left grown tired and hard?
Has it been hard?
Has it been long?
Has it been going on and on?
Would it kill you
to not treat the toothpaste
like something you were trying to strangle?
2. Has it gone too far?
Has it gone too wrong?
Has it just worn you down?
Are you left with rage
When all your love is gone?
Are you left with nothing left at all?
Would it kill you
to not treat the toothpaste
like something you were trying to strangle?
Are you left with nothing left at all?
Love
Greg Scheer
December, 2018
1. Steve says that I’m not in love:
“It’s too soon— blah, blah, blah…”
But I didn’t listen to a word he said.
Maybe I will never learn
the thousand ways that love can hurt you,
but I’d rather die learning than live just avoiding the pain.
So I’m jumping back in it.
Love— could anyone hope for more than
love?— Isn’t it all we want?
Love— who wouldn’t give it all for love?
2. Lovers have come and lovers have gone;
they’ve spilled their ink and they’ve sung their songs.
God only knows I’m not the first one to feel this way.
Love, from a distance, is cool and remote
like the moon seen through a telescope.
But now I’m in your orbit, under your sway.
And I can’t get away from
Love— could anyone hope for more than
love?— Isn’t it all we want?
Love— who wouldn’t give it all for love?
3. Does the world need another love song
with the hopeful lift of ii, V, I chords
and a “love, love, love” that comes back again and again?
We might get tired of the same refrain,
the pop cliches, deceptive cadences,
but we all hope we’ll find love that never ends.
And so we keep singing:
Love— could anyone hope for more than
love?— Isn’t it all we want?
Love— who wouldn’t give it all for love?
Love, love, love… (again and again)
Who wouldn’t give it all for love?
Sinking Like a Stone
Greg Scheer
December 6, 2016
1. We all want to be loved;
we’re afraid to be alone.
We offer up our souls,
but still it’s not enough.
Our need, it only grows.
We’re terrified
of being left alone
with nothing but this hole:
Sinking like a stone.
2. We all want to be loved,
but we’re afraid of being known.
Naked and exposed,
we’ll always hide ourselves.
So don’t get too close;
the intimacy’s too much.
We’re vulnerable to touch;
it opens wide the soul:
Sinking like a stone.
3. We all want to be loved;
‘cause we’re afraid we’ll disappear.
Love, and pain, and fear
are better than nothing at all.
We all feel the void.
We’re all hanging on
for dear life, lest we fall
into those dark jaws:
Sinking like a stone.
4. We all want to be loved,
But we’re afraid..
Summer
Greg Scheer
February, 2014
1. The days are hot and the nights are long;
which is exactly what you would think that we’d all want.
But as the summer dragged on it didn’t seem so dreamy–
I got on your nerves and you got bored and mean.
2. By the fourth of July it reached a fever pitch:
you called me drunk and useless
and I called you a (something I regret).
To avoid more fireworks, you took a trip with some friends.
I stayed behind and went on a three day binge.
I was hoping for an endless summer;
now I’m just looking for a place to land.
I’m as high as a kite and I might have just cut my string.
There’s a fine line between freedom
and free floating in the wind.
And I’m wondering if I can ever make it back again.
Am I the only one who wishes summer would end?
3. Wake at noon and it all comes back:
the smell of suntan lotion and the sweet taste of regret.
Why am I wired to betray everyone I love?
I’m a ticking bomb– get too close and I’ll blow both of us up.
I was hoping for an endless summer;
now I’m just looking for a place to land.
I’m as high as a kite and I might have just cut my string.
There’s a fine line between freedom
and free floating in the wind.
And I’m wondering if I can ever make it back again.
Am I the only one who wishes summer would end?
If I survive this sweltering summer
and make it through another fall.
I’ll wait out the winter and joke that I’ve been through hell.
But it’s no joke. The way I’m headed
I’ll be a broken, empty man–
drift away like the summer sand.
Am I the only one who wishes summer would end?
Am I the only one who wishes?
Am I the only one
who was hoping for an endless summer?
Now I’m just looking for a place to land.
I’m as high as a kite and I might have just cut my string.
There’s a fine line between freedom
and free floating in the wind.
And I’m wondering if I can ever make it back again.
Am I the only one who wishes summer would end?
Maybe This Time
Greg Scheer, 2014
1. As the year slowly unraveled,
I saw the little hope I had unwind.
It seemed the only thread remaining
led away from here to a different life.
Maybe this time I’ll get it right.
Maybe this time I will finally get it right
if I leave it all behind.
2. No one’s gonna miss me.
No one will apologize.
And I thought this time was different–
how could I have been so blind?
Maybe this time I’ll get it right.
Maybe this time I will finally get it right
if I leave it all behind.
From town to town,
from place to place
it’s all the same.
From time to time
I wonder why
things never change.
3. I keep my options open–
my expectations low, but my hopes are high.
I need to put my past behind me;
clean my slate and cut my ties.
Maybe this time I’ll get it right.
Maybe this time I will finally get it right
if I leave it all behind.
Maybe I just need some space, a change of scenery.
Shed some baggage, get a taste of being free.
The only thing I take from town to town is me.
It’s me. It’s me.
4. In a bedroom full of boxes
suddenly I realize.
That the only thing I’ve mastered
is leaving everything behind.
Maybe this time I’ll get it right.
Maybe this time I will finally get it right
if I leave it all behind.
The Day that I Gave In
Greg Scheer
November 18, 2021
1. The day that I gave in
was the day my life began.
Resignation filled my soul,
I felt relief I’d never known,
the day that I gave in.
I surrendered to the flow.
though I didn’t know how to swim,
but I learned how to drown,
let the riptide drag me down,
the day that I gave in.
2. Well, I’d never felt so free
as when I learned I couldn’t win.
With so many ways to lose,
there was no more need to choose,
so why not just give in?
The day that I gave in
I shrugged my shoulders of their weight
I felt as light as wind.
All my anger fell away
as my ambition dissipated
and I was born again.
The day that I gave in.
3. I learned to let it go–
unclenched my tired hands.
Gave up the need for control
and the need for something more,
the day that I gave in.
I prayed to be serene
about the things I couldn’t change.
The answer to my prayer
is that I no longer care.
The day that I gave in.
Nothing will ever change.
Nothing will ever change.
Nothing will ever change.
Nothing will ever change.
Nothing will ever change.
Nothing will ever change.
4. Like a phoenix in reverse,
I lit a match and threw it in.
I watched it all burn down.
I played my violin
on the day that I gave in.
I watched it all burn down;
felt the fire warm my skin.
I know what I know now
and I’d do it all again.
‘Cause I’d know how it would end–
just like it all began.
It will always be the same:
there will always be the day,
the day that I gave in.
Die Alone
Greg Scheer
October 5, 2016
1. We’re all going to die alone; hallelujah!
Been that way since we were born; hallelujah!
Everyone’s hoping for a home; hallelujah!
Someone we can call our own; hallelujah!
2. Everybody’s looking for a friend; hallelujah!
But we’re terrified to let them in; hallelujah!
If they knew what’s in our heart and head; hallelujah!
They’d leave us on our own again; hallelujah!
All our lives are spent chasing the wind,
but it’s the wind that catches us in the end.
Bones and memories turn to dust
and another generation only coughs.
Is that enough?
Is that enough?
Is that enough?
Is that enough?
3. Spend our days wondering what we did; hallelujah!
To deserve all this; hallelujah!
But we’ve spent our years collecting sins; hallelujah!
Maybe that’s why it’s come to this; hallelujah!
4. We all know that we’re going to die; hallelujah!
We just don’t know how and we don’t know when.
Silent Star
Greg Scheer
December 8, 2004
1. Strange angels in the sky
interrupt this lonely night
singing “Peace on earth,”
but what’s that worth
when they sing it from the sky?
2. No angel will never know
what it’s like living below.
They sing of birth,
but that just means more hurt
as another woman cries.
Born under a silent star.
Live under a silent star.
Die under a silent star, a million miles away.
3. 2,000 years passed since that night
and the only light that fills the sky
are rockets red glare
and bombs bursting in air
under the gaze of satellite
above this maze with restless eye.
Born under a silent star
Live under a silent star
Die under a silent star, a million miles away.
A silent star, while all the angels sing:
Gloria, Gloria, in excelsis Deo.
When I’m Dreaming
Greg Scheer
February 10, 2011 @ 8:47am
1. Who knows of the ever after?
Who wants to arrive there faster?
I’m not sure about forever,
I only know I want to be together.
2. Who knows what our dreams are made of?
Hopes or fears or fairy dustings.
All I know is when I’m fading
there’s another world there waiting.
And when I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming of you.
3. When this sleep is finally ended,
I’ll wake up and I’ll remember
something, someone, somehow waiting
just beyond what dreams are made of
And when I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming of you.