PRELUDE
The Day that I Gave In, 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.
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.
SO FAR FROM HOME
The Deeper You Get, 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.
I’ll Be Around, 1997
I’ll be around
when your friends are gone and you’re feeling down.
I’ll be around
when all your luck is through.
I’ll be around
and I swear my love will astound you.
No better friend can be found,
I’ll be around for you.
What’s Real?, February 17, 2017
1. We’ve all got this disease
and sometimes it feels
like it is the only thing
growing
inside me.
2. Is any of this real?
Is this just a dream–
a series of scenes
and cycles of feelings?
How do we know what’s real?
Toothpaste, 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?
ONE LONG YEAR
Summer, 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?
All Hallow’s Eve, 2014
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.
An Ocean (Prayer to St. Patrick), 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 have now is the party trick
of turning beer into piss.
And I can’t…
I just can’t get enough.
Never Perfect, 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.
SYNONYMS FOR GOODBYE
Soulmate, Nov, 2022
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 had some good dates,
I felt more alone 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 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 couldn’t save me and I’d never 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 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.
Love, 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…
Who wouldn’t give it all for love?
Monster, 2022
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,
which could never be sated,
which transformed to hatred.
Who could love this thing I’ve become?
Who could love this monster?
3. 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.
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?
Sinking Like a Stone, 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…
All the Things that You Can’t Change, Sunday May 14, 2017
1. There’s only silence when you wake.
You breathe the air, but it is thick.
You don’t know if you’ll ever sing again;
you don’t remember how it felt.
2. Because everything has changed.
Your little life came to an end.
It wasn’t much, but it was all you had
and all that’s left is sad.
3. Everything’s broken that could break.
You took everything that you could take.
Wish you’d been good instead of trying to be great,
but it would still have ended the same.
4. All the things that you can’t change;
all the things you can’t forget;
all the demons that have been with you so long
that they start to feel like friends:
5. Everything you know’s come to an end.
Nothing will ever be the same.
But from the rubble new life begins
and it will be beautiful in its own way.
The Year of My Fall, 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.
Broken, November, 2018
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.
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 and cynical, suspicious, enraged?
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?
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.
Die Alone, 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.
NEW
Puny Humans, August 2018 – May 2023
1. I am so far from home
and all alone,
but somehow, I feel close
when I’m watching your TV shows.
They show me who you are,
the things that spark
the loves, the fears,
so deep in your heart of hearts.
2. I see the pretty things
that lure you in,
the hungering, the jealousies
that make you crazy.
But mostly it’s the petty things
that fill your weeks—
the comfort foods, the glowing screens
distract you from your pain.
Oh, you puny humans.
- Your day’s extent is
eating breakfast,
sending texts and
planning next who
you’d have sex with.
But it’s perplexing:
though it flexes,
no one frets at
how defenseless
the human neck is.
Oh, you puny humans.
Oh, I won’t shed a tear for you.
No, I won’t shed a tear for you.
I won’t shed a tear for you.
4. This won’t hurt a bit.
Just think of it
as an adjustment,
a gentle judgement,
or a quiet apocalypse.
You won’t feel a thing
until you wake,
you might feel something missing.
(But there’s always something missing.)
Oh, you puny humans.
No one can hear your screams,
they only echo in my dreams.
This is my reality:
I am alone, but free.
I am so far from home,
with so far to go,
I watch the lightyears pass
in such a dark and lonely place.
I am alone, but free.
The Perfect Song, February 10, 2021
1. I’ve been searching for the perfect song.
I’ve been searching for the perfect song.
But it’s been here all along.
2. I’ve spent my days chasing dreams.
I’ve spent my days chasing dreams.
So beautiful, but just out of reach.
Will it be enough? Will it be enough? Will it be enough?
3. I’ve been trying to find my place.
I’ve been trying to find my place.
But everywhere I go is already taken.
Will it be enough? Will it be enough? Will it be enough?