A Night of Sax & Violins 11/8/24 @ The Stray

Has he written a song for you?
Well, this makes five from me.
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.

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.

We're all going to die alone. (Hallelujah!)
Been that way since we were born. (Hallelujah!)
Everyone's hoping for a home. (Hallelujah!)
Someone they can call their own (Hallelujah!)

Everybody's looking for a friend. (Hallelujah!)
But we're terrified to let them in. (Hallelujah!)
If they knew what's in your heart and head, (Hallelujah!)
they'd leave you on your 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?

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!)
We all know we're going to die. (Hallelujah!)
We just don't know how or when.

1. I thought you were my soulmate,
but now I just don't know.
How can there be so much hate
if it was ever love?
I thought the years would be more kind,
that love would only grow with time.

How could I have been so blind
to think that you'd love
someone you didn't even like?
We were both changing with each new season.
I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised
to see you leave to live your "destiny"
with the soulmate I could never be.

2. So I went looking for a soulmate
when I should have been looking for my soul.
And though I thought I had some good dates,
I was emptier than I'd been before.
I was hoping you could save me
from the gnawing emptiness that plagued me.

If I were alone with you, then maybe I could
finally find the peace that I'd been craving.
But my loneliness, it only grew,
because loneliness always has room for two.
Eventually I had to face the truth:
you'd never save me and I couldn't complete you.

3. Could you be my soulmate?
My heart is holding hope.
If we're not too jaded, and if we're not too old.
I used to see love more mysteriously—
across a crowded room, our eyes would meet—

But now I understand a soulmate to be
not something that you find,
but something we have to keep creating.
The intimacy we all desire
only grows when souls are open wide
and all the fear and pain that's inside us
is laid bare before our lover's eyes.

4. I don't know about a soulmate,
but I've found my soul.

1. I found myself in a laundromat,
a roll of quarters in my hand,
with the down-and-out
and the single dads
wondering where it all went wrong.

I wound up on a therapist's couch
trying to get my insides out;
diving deep into the coldest,
darkest places in my soul.

I found some healing
and made my peace
when I found out beauty
could ache like grief
and they both share a place
inside of me.

2. I found some joy, despite my fears;
I found a love despite my years;
and I found out laughter's
a lot like tears—
water from the same well.

It turns out joy and pain
can be experienced simultaneously.
The sun and rain, the wheat and the weeds—
you have to hold them both.

I found contentment,
though it came late,
but there's still a longing
that I can't shake
and it seems like it is here to stay.

3. I lost myself in my brand new life,
in my big ideas and the songs I write.
Sometimes I think I'll lose my mind
with the beauty of it all.

I don't know if I'm finding my way
or losing myself in the day to day.
Can I still be me and give myself away
to the things I love the most?

I stumble on and when I look back
I see a strange grace in this winding path.
All I can do is shake my head and laugh.

4. I'm well aware that I'm losing time;
it's no secret that I'm going to die.
When my time is up you'll have to pry
my fingers from this precious world.

I'll hold it dear and I'll hold it tight
and I'll only let go 'cause it was never mine.
What it all meant, I can't decide,
and it won't matter once I'm gone.

But I know as long as I'm still breathing
immortality has no meaning
'cause each moment holds an eternity.

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.
Sinking like a stone, 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.
Sinking like a stone, sinking like a stone.

3. We all want to be loved;
we're afraid we'll disappear.
Love, 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.
Sinking like a stone, sinking like a stone.

Sinking like a stone,
sinking like a stone,
sinking like a stone.
We all want to be loved, but we're afraid. . .

Who could love this thing I've become?
Who could love this thing?

1. Behold the monstrous beast
as it lies there, sleeping.
Don't wake it from its dreams;
don't disturb its slumber.
For when it wakes it eats,
and its ravenous power knows no pity.
It knows only hunger and the lust to devour.

2. It was born to life like you—
wet and crying.
On its mother's breast was soothed
and it soon was sleeping.
But when it woke it knew
hunger and longing, which grew,
which consumed, and could never be sated.
It transformed to hatred.

Who could love this thing I've become?
Who could love this monster?

When will it awake?
What will it devour?
It takes and takes and takes,
but no one knows the hour.
Only a fool would try to tame
such a heartless creature.
Run away, run away, run away!
For if you're in reach
your heart may be its next feeding.

Who could love this thing I've become?
Who could love this monster,
this monster, this monster?

Who could love this thing I've become?
Who could love what I'm becoming?
Who could love this thing I've become?
Who could love this monster, this monster?

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— 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… Who wouldn’t give it all for love?

1. I was born too 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.

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.

1. As you look in the mirror
the lines you once had feared
now seem like signs marking
where the road still might lead.

The final chapters may be nearer,
but that just makes it sweeter
to read the stories that are
etched in your skin.

2. The eyes looking back remind you
of all the life you hold inside you;
there's still a little girl within.

She is older and wiser,
slower and kinder,
and richer for all the beauty
years can bring.

See how the time has flown!
But your soul, it still lives on.
See how the time has flown!
But your soul lives on.

3. You could try to leave it all behind you,
but the past will always find you;
and now it almost feels
like a friend.

You will need it to guide you;
the path ahead is winding
and will lead to places
you have never been.

The years that have long gone by
still lie deep inside.
The years that have long gone by—
let them be your guide.

The years that have long gone by
still lie deep inside.
The years that have long gone by—
let them be your guide.

1. Raindrops explode and combine;
they stream down the window panes in the night.
Cars pass in brief bursts of light;
shine like stars falling from night skies.

We're holding on for dear life.
We're holding on for dear life.
We're holding on for dear life.

2. Warm breath exhaled, intertwined;
this breath, is it yours? Is it mine?
Can two hearts resonate, synchronize?
As the universe keeps time,

We're holding on for dear life.
We're holding on for dear life.
We're holding on for dear life.
This night will never end.

1. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes,
and whatever the cold wind blows.
Iron to rust, and flames in the grass—
you just don't know.

You just don't know when your day will come,
but your ending is clear.
No one's sure where we go,
but I'm sure it won't be here,
but I'm sure it won't be here.

I don't need a cross of ashes
because I'm already marked
with a curse of death and dispassion
that I wear like a scar.

I don't need a cross of ashes
to remind me that I'm dirt's favorite son.
I was born of dust, and to dust I'll pass,
and I'm almost already gone,
I'm almost already gone.

2. I'm paying for sins I have yet to commit.
I was born with veins filled with bitter blood.
I suffer the sting of poison that Adam bit.
Haven't I had enough. . .

Enough remorse for my father's sins?
We're all sacks of dirt in the end.
You can sing your songs,
but in your dry heart you know:
it's your own grave you're digging,
it's your own grave you're digging.

I don't need a cross of ashes
because I'm already marked
with a curse of death and dispassion
that I wear like a scar.

I don't need a cross of ashes
to remind me that I'm dirt's favorite son.
I was born of dust, and to dust I'll pass,
and I'm almost already gone,
I'm almost already gone.

3. I was born alone and I'll die alone;
in between, I'll spend some loneliness with you.
We'll share our dirt and we'll call it love—
it's all we can do.

All we can do in the meantime,
until the wind sweeps us on,
is huddle close against the cold—
but it still chills me to the bone,
but it still chills me to the bone.

I don't need a cross of ashes
because I'm already marked
with a curse of death and dispassion
that I wear like a scar.

I don't need a cross of ashes
to remind me that I'm dirt's favorite son.
I was born of dust, and to dust I'll pass,
and I'm almost already gone,
I'm almost already gone.

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'll 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'll 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'll 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'll finally get it right
if I leave it all behind.

1. Don't want to go to bed,
don't want to go to bed tonight.
I'm tired to the bone,
but I can't bear to be alone with them—
the voices in my head.

2. The voices in my head;
the voices in my head begin
to sing a song of woe—
as if I hadn't heard them all before.
The past begins again.

Saints and sinners branch
from the family tree,
connect my roots to the dirt of our history;
bitter fruit from which I'll never be free.
The past possesses me.
The past possesses me.

3. The past begins again;
the past begins again in me.
It's like I'm destined to
repeat each voice inside of me.
I sing the chorus once again.

Saints and sinners branch
from the family tree,
connect my roots to the dirt of our history;
bitter fruit from which I'll never be free.
The past possesses me.
The past possesses me.

Strange angels in the sky
interrupt this lonely night
singing peace on earth
but what that's worth
when they sing it from the sky?

No angel will ever 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.

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 the angels sing:

Gloria, gloria in excelsis Deo.

1. Things come together.
Things fall apart.
It's the law of the land
and the way of the heart.
From your window,
a falling star.
A world is collapsing,
but it looks small from afar.

Why does everything have to be broken?
Why does everything have to be sad?
Why does everything precious and holy
just slip right through your hands?
Why is everything falling apart?
Why couldn't it be put together again?
Why does everything have to be broken?

2. The weight of the years
is starting to show.
The dull grip of gravity's
dragging you down.
Your heart is burdened;
a chest full of stones.
You breathe the same air,
but it's heavy now.
You breathe the same air,
but it's heavy now.

Why does everything have to be broken?
Why does everything have to be sad?
Why does everything precious and holy
just slip right through your hands?
Why is everything falling apart?
Why couldn't it be put together again?
Why does everything have to be broken?

Why does everything get old and tired,
ugly, cynical, and so full of rage?
How does passion cool to bitterness
that never goes away?

Are there wounds that never heal with time
and sins for which we can never pay?
Are there feelings that infect our minds
and memories that will never fade?

Why is everything falling apart?
Why couldn't it be put together again?
Why does everything have to be broken?

Do you want to be broken?
Do you want to heal?
Do you want to know enough pain
that you finally begin to feel (again)?
Everybody is broken.
We're most beautiful where we're fragile and marred.
The most important stories of our lives
are written in our scars
(and on our hearts).

Come on and get broken!
Go ahead and be sad.
Nothing lasts, but nothing's lost.
It just changes and comes back.
Let everything fall apart.
It'll come together again.
Give in; get broken.

1. Arizona sounds great on a winter day,
but I'd miss all the magic of a snowflake.
Warm and sunny every day has its charms, I guess,
but I still love the way the seasons change.

2. As the fire of autumn leaves begins to freeze
and the sun shines so bright upon the city's streets.
Oh, the air may be brisk— I don't mind a bit
when I think of the warm home waiting for me.

Don't you miss it in the Mitten?
You know your home will always be here.
(Why don't you come back this year?)
Don't you miss it in the Mitten?
Come back for Christmas in Michigan.

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?