Peter Mayer

HARRY THE PHARAOH


Harry was a pharaoh on the Nile
In typical Egyptian style
But Pharaoh Harry did not always go
With the status quo
One day discussing funerary rites
And where to bury Harry when he dies
He said “please don’t ever put my body in
Some pyramid”
He said

CHORUS:
Tell me, what would a dead man do
With all that gold and all those jewels?
You can keep his body mummified
Make that dead man look alive
But he ain’t ever gonna spend that loot
Tell me, what would a dead man do
With all that furniture and all that room?
If you’re gonna build a house that nice
You oughta give it to some living guy
He could put it to a better use
What would a dead man do?

Now those were words Egyptians didn’t like
‘Cause they were in the business of the afterlife
And those plans and preparations kept them quite preoccupied
But he said keep that treasure in this life
Taste that spice, drink that wine
And eat those figs and pomegranates now
I think you’ll find they tend to taste the best
When you’re not dead
CHORUS:

So now no one recognizes Harry’s name
And Pharaohs like King Tut get all the fame
That old King Tut, now there’s a guy with one
Heck of a grave

DOROTHY’S PIE

Vern said “hey Dorothy, what are you baking?
It smells awfully good, I bet you must be making
My favorite apple pie, honey, please tell me it’s true.”
Dorothy said “yes Vern, but it’s not for you, dear
I made it for the bake sale this Sunday at church, you hear
So don’t go stealing a piece, now, Vernon, don’t you!

He sulked over supper and settled for cookies
But there at that pie on the stove he kept looking
With the thought that some stranger would have it, which he could not stand
He sat in his sad resignation all evening
Moped off to bed, stared at the ceiling
Then he started to smile, because Vern was devising a plan

Now most folks who have met him insist that he seems like a reasonable guy
So before I describe what he did, let me explain to you why…you see…

CHORUS:
After forty some years of her rhubarb and apple
Still nothing on earth could make Vernon more happy
Than the thought of a slice with a scoop of ice cream on the side
And that’s why Vern had to buy Dorothy’s pie

That Sunday Morning, quite coolly and calmly
Vern shaved and buttoned his shirt nonchalantly
Drove them to church, said his glory be’s and amens
Afterwards Dorothy fetched her creation
Went to the church hall to make her donation
And Vern followed closely behind with his secret intent

Passing by tables of brownies with walnuts
Poppy seed pastries and cheese cakes and cream puffs
He was unwavering, keeping his eye on the prize
And when she arrived at the back where you check-in
Vern stepped in with a deft interception
Slapped down a five on the table, and said “that pie is mine!”

Maybe you’ve heard of the old aphorism, “Love made a fool out of me”
Well, Love made Vern one in just 40 minutes at 425 degrees
CHORUS:

And actually he says the ice cream isn’t needed
Because every piece of Dorothy’s pie by itself is complete
She bakes all kinds of sweetness inside

SNUFFLEUPAGUS

Hey, have you heard the latest from Big Bird?
It sounds ridiculous, get a load of this
He says he has a friend only known to him
He calls him Aloysius Snuffleupagus
Apparently when no one’s watching
Is when the two get to talking

He says he’s big and hairy, but not the least bit scary
With great big lazy eyes, he swaggers side to side
And has a longish nose, and walks a little slowly
A peculiar invention, even for Mr. Henson
Which makes me think, though I hate to say it
That the creature is fabricated

CHORUS:
No, I don’t believe he really does exist
Because I’ve never seen this Snuffleupagus
It’s all in the big bird’s brain
And besides, what kind of name is Snuffleupagus?

I talked to Bert and Ernie, Cookie Monster’s worried
Kermit the Frog agrees “it’s just a tragedy”
Someone should check that bird, take his temperature
Maybe he took a fall, or drugs or alcohol
Or maybe Big Bird has some problems
Well, if he does, hey, we all got ‘em
But that does not mean that we all should get
Our own imaginary, hairy psychologist

CHORUS:

I mean no ill intentions, but perhaps an intervention
Is what our bird friend needs to restore his sanity
So you round up the crew and I’ll go see how he’s doing
Here he comes as a matter of fact
Hey, did you see THAT?

No, I don’t believe he really does exist
Because I don’t think I’ve seen this Snuffleupagus
But hey, I’m open-minded
Let’s say I’m undecided

15 MORE MINUTES


I asked her when would you like to awake
She said at six and I mustn’t be late
So when in the morning I tugged on the sheets
She said just give me 15 more minutes of sleep
15 more minutes is all that I need

At 11 am she was still sleeping sound
So I made her some lunch just to lure her out
I said hey how about something to eat
She said “sure after a little more sleep
15 more minutes is all that I need

At 2 pm I told her she’d won a prize
She turned around without opening her eyes
At 5, I lied that I’d broken my thumb
She whispered faintly then call 911
I’ve got some sleeping that needs to be done

At 6 in the evening I shouted the bed is on fire
She said she’s sleeping in fire-resistant attire
Then she just pulled the covers up higher
She pulled the covers up higher

When nighttime arrived I went to her and said
Time to wake up and get ready for bed
She said hurray that’s my favorite thing
After a couple more winks if you please
15 more minutes is all that I need

TEE BALL


My name is Ryan, I’m going on five
And there’s something that I’d like to say
I know a wonderful game called Tee Ball
It’s like baseball mostly, but not like the big leagues
Now there is a game I don’t get
Where you swear and get very upset
Downright teed off

CHORUS:
But in Tee Ball, there are no strikes at all
And the ball’s always perfectly placed
You just keep swinging away till you hit one
And in Tee Ball, you touch ‘em all
And as you head back to home plate
Every one’s cheering your name for your homerun
OK, it might not prepare you for life but it’s
Glorious fun just the same
‘Cause in Tee Ball, you always win the game

There’s no consequence for not paying attention
You barely even have to try
Things always seem to go right in Tee Ball
No pitcher to trick you or ump to insist you were
Off second base by a mile
And no angry fans cramping your style with their cat calls
CHORUS:

So start up your own league for grown-up teams only
It’s bound to become all the rage
‘Cause in Tee Ball, you always win
In Tee Ball, you can hold up your chin
In Tee Ball, you always win the game

FAKE PLANT


Poor little fake plant, on the windowsill
Sad because you have no chlorophyll
So in the sun, you always tend to cry
Because you cannot photosynthesize

Poor little fake plant, you never were a seed
You came straight out of the factory
Your stem, your leaves, all petroleum derived
You’ll never grow; you’ll always be that size

You see the other plants around the room
They get watered, fertilized and pruned
But you just get a dusting now and then
Oh how you wish that you were one of them

It’s not just the attention that you crave
But having your own code of DNA
And feeling like your life is not a sham
Earning that certain self-respect that you don’t have

But hey little fake plant, don’t be so distraught
Just remember you’ll outlive 'em all
Or should I say you’ll last a longer time
Because, well technically, you’re not alive

Still you do look perfect to be sure
And your beauty always will endure
Yes, in so many ways you are ideal
Except of course for the fact that you’re not real

Nonetheless, you bring lots of joy
When we pretend that you’re the real McCoy
So cheer up fake plant, look on the bright side
If you’re not living then, hey, you’ll never die

JAMA DAY


You can sleep till afternoon
Make some chocolate chip pancakes
Wake up with Einstein’s hairdo
And let it stay that way all day

You can be an unclean slob
Skip the shower, skip the shave
As if you don’t have a job
Not even a resume

CHORUS:
On Jama Day…

Eat food without inhibitions
Have an extra piece of cake
Pajamas have no restrictions
Thanks to the elastic waist

Save the town from the outlaws
On the reruns of Gun Smoke
With remote controls you draw
From the pockets of your robe

CHORUS

Wear your Scooby-Doo pants and
Sponge Bob socks
When you’re walking to the mail box
Raising questions about your mental state
Helps to keep unwanted guests away

Read a book by Dr. Seuss
Play canasta, play ping pong
Make a list of jobs to do
Then do none of them at all

There could be a blue kazoo, a pair of ruby shoes
A silky new, fetching red kimono
A Pakistani rug, an Elvis Presley mug
Or “The Very Best of Perry Como”

There could be a handsome blonde, a Harry Potter wand
Or little strips to help you quit snoring
An anti-aging cream, a healthy self-esteem
Waiting there for you on Christmas morning
Then again, in light of life’s uncertainties
You may not find a single one of these

CHORUS:
But guaranteed, underneath that tree
Will be a brand new day begun
The ones who love you, the turning earth
And a great big shining sun
A big old shining sun

You might like a better job, a diamond ring from Bob
A cabin place on Lake Okoboji
You may pray to be released, or for Middle Eastern peace
Or a sword of light, like Obi-Wan Kenobi
And you can bring your list to Santa on your knees
All he’s going to say is “we will see”

CHORUS:

And if that’s all you get for Christmas
In spite of all your wishes
You might hang your head and then go back to bed
Or you might discover instead

That when you wake and see the day
And on the earth, you read your name
And cut the gold ribbons around it
You still might be surprised, and even realize
That you got everything you wanted

When you see, underneath that tree
Another brand new day begun
The ones who love you, the turning earth
And a great big shining sun
A big old shining sun
That giant fireball, the biggest ornament of all
Hung in the sky on Christmas Morning

In the ever-shifting water of the river of this life
I was swimming, seeking comfort; I was wrestling waves to find
A boulder I could cling to, a stone to hold me fast
Where I might let the fretful water of this river ‘round me pass

And so I found an anchor, a blessed resting place
A trusty rock I called my savior, for there I would be safe
From the river and its dangers, and I proclaimed my rock divine
And I prayed to it “protect me” and the rock replied

CHORUS:
God is a river, not just a stone
God is a wild, raging rapids
And a slow, meandering flow
God is a deep and narrow passage
And a peaceful, sandy shoal
God is the river, swimmer
So let go

Still I clung to my rock tightly with conviction in my arms
Never looking at the stream to keep my mind from thoughts of harm
But the river kept on coming, kept on tugging at my legs
Till at last my fingers faltered, and I was swept away

So I’m going with the flow now, these relentless twists and bends
Acclimating to the motion, and a sense of being led
And this river’s like my body now, it carries me along
Through the ever-changing scenes and by the rocks that sing this song

CHORUS:

God is the river, swimmer
So let go

Once, such a long time ago
I left all that I know
The things of kingly life
The ease of my warm palace home
The toils of my throne
To seek a heavenly child

He came to me in a dream
Full of wisdom he seemed
Full of goodness and light
And hope to rid the world of its woes
And so I knew I must go
To find the heavenly child

There’s only so much a king can do
To feed and clothe his multitudes
And give them comfort for their cares
And oh, they cry for justice and for love
I thought this child from above
Might be an answer to their prayers

It was cold, and the traveling was hard
As we followed that star
Many long desert miles
There were times we would mutter “what’s the use”
And we said we were fools
To seek the heavenly child

And then, one fair evening, we found
A simple stable near a town
A mother cradling her own
And lo, the boy was beautiful to see
A child heavenly indeed
We gave him frankincense and gold

But that was a long time ago…

And still the child haunts my heart
But I’ve not returned afar
To look into his eyes
For in the faces of this very kingdom
In every daughter and son
I see the heavenly child
I see a heavenly child

Set the Santa Candle out, my dear
On the toilet, where we put him every year
He shrank to half his height
In the heat that summertime
Now he’s shorter and he’s fatter
Like some sort of Buddha Santa

Make those Tom and Jerry’s extra sweet
I’ll go and get the artificial tree
And those boxes downstairs
Of Christmases we’ve shared
We’ll play Bing Crosby and unpack
All the days of love we’ve had and

CHORUS:
Hang the years like ornaments
On the tree and say
Would you marry me again?
Please say yes
That would really make my Christmas day


The electric snowflakes really have six sides
Because I brought back that one with only five
Set out the plates that say noel
Plug in the mice that play the bells
And Christmas cookies sure sound great
Honey let’s start gaining weight

Let’s watch the old home movies and old slides
And wonder at the way the time goes by
Sing Jingle Bells once more
And dance around the floor
We’ll raise our matching Santa glasses
To the days of love we’ve had, and

CHORUS:

I remember she was here
It seemed to be her place to rest
Until a flood of blood and tears
Washed away her nest

Was it when we felt afraid?
Or when we became us and them?
Or when the plans of war were laid?
Can you tell me, was it then

CHORUS:
That the bird of peace escaped our hands
To find an olive branch
Of kindness and of love
Flew away, leaving us to stand
Scanning the horizon
And the dreary skies above
Looking for the dove

I’ve seen hawks and I’ve seen crows
And I’ve heard their angry cries
I’ve seen buzzards flying low
But haven’t heard her lullaby

But we were foolish to believe
She’d be an easy bird to keep
We gave her a nest, a bed to rest
But didn’t know that even though she dreams
The dove of peace can never sleep

So the bird…(CHORUS)

Come back to us
Come back to us
Sweet Dove

When it’s late December, dark and cold Where is the light?
When old man year is bending low Where is the light?
When the sun runs off to bed too soon Where is the light?
And there’s nothing but a skinny moon Where is the light?

CHORUS:
Where is the light?
Where is the light?
Where is the light? Oh…
The light’s inside of me

When it’s dark each morning when I rise Where is the light?
And it’s dark when my eggs are fryin’ Where is the light?
And it’s dark when off to work I go Where is the light?
And it’s dark again when I get home Where is the light?

CHORUS:

It’s in my skin and in my bones
In my heart and in my soul
That light of life, so bright and golden
Like a summer day
When the sun goes missing in the sky
It is rising in my eyes
Chasing all that winter gloom away

I’m burning bright like kerosene Where is the light?
I’m twinkling like the Pleiades Where is the light?
I’m dancing like a candle flame Where is the light?
I’m flaming like a fruit flambé Where is the light?

CHORUS: (2X)

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!

Clouds are swift
Rocks are ancient
Mountains are high, oceans great
Winds are restless
Trees are patient
And you my child are awake

Waves are crashing
Rivers churning
Planets twirling, stars ablaze
Storms are raging
Atoms whirling
And you my child are awake

CHORUS:
To perceive these wondrous things
To count the beats of a blackbird’s wings
To tell a story and dance and sing

All the splendors
Of creation
Are very happy that you came
Because they needed
Someone to see them
And you my child are awake
CHORUS:

Seeds are hopeful
Dewdrops fleeting
Oak trees are crooked, Redwoods straight
And they are not known
To the sleeping
But you my child are awake
You my child are awake
You my child

When I go outside at night
And look up and the stars are bright
Sometimes I lay on the ground
And imagine that the sky is down
And if the earth should then let go
I’d fall into the stars below
I’d fall into the stars below

And when I see the red sunset
In it’s quiet splendor, I reflect
That that sun’s not going down at all
But the earth is turning somersaults
And through a sunlit sea it trails
And we are on that great big whale
We’re riding on that great big whale

CHORUS:
When I try to grasp the simple fact of this existence
And think of all the fantasies and fairytales and wishes
None strike me as more unlikely or magnificent than this is

Hands and faces seen up close
Galaxies through telescopes
Crimson hillsides in the fall
And more astounding than them all
Are pondering minds with eyes that see
These are deep mysteries
Deep mysteries
CHORUS:

Like a strange, enchanting play of impossible dimensions
The setting and the stage run light-years in all directions
And the breathless scenes and the storyline defy comprehension

And when I think of all the roles
In this production, all I know is
I’m in the cast, but could it be
I’m also in a front row seat
To sit in my amazement, gazing
To ooh and ahh and sigh and say
My, what a wonderful play
My, my, my, my...

Skyblaster Man
There in the lights of the midway he stands
Mustache and tattoos, caught in the thralls of his carnie dance
Entrancing passers-by, daring that they take
A turn on his dangerous ride
Making them see that the magic that he commands
Makes them feel like they’re flying
Skyblaster man

Skyblaster man
Taking the tickets they have in their hands
Their faces like many in the towns along his carnival caravan
Dollar thrill-seekers and brief death-defeaters who
Come from their comfortable lives
To be spun around, and turned upside down
And reminded that they’re alive
Skyblaster man

To be convinced you’re alive
It’s a mighty big job for a three minute ride
So he brings his powers to bear
As if he’s in prayer
While they’re in the air

And when they land
They stand in a daze and stagger and laugh
And he knows at that time, by the look in their eyes that a few understand
But will they remember, he wonders as he
Very carefully helps them all down
As if in his care, he’s aware of the much greater
Perils of life on the ground
Skyblaster man

There is music on CDs
Magazines of all kinds
And computers and TVs
For amusing the mind
But in the late days of the summer
Nothing nearly compares
To just seeing each other
At the Brown County Fair

You can meet Lawrence Little
And taste his prize pickles, home grown
And hear Grace play the fiddle
Who’s just seven years old
There are girls boys are teasing
In the carmeled apple air
Of the warm August evening
At the Brown County Fair

If the stock market fails you
Give the ring toss a try
And if loneliness ails you
Stick around for awhile
There’s a band playing later
And you can dance in a square
Promenade and greet your neighbor
At the Brown County Fair

And if you’re tired of walking
You can sit with your slush
And pass the time people watching
And you might fall in love
With the face of a stranger
The young and old strolling there
Across the unhurried acres
Of the Brown County Fair

There’s a light inside of people
Sometimes seen in the eyes
And it hides like a recluse
In these complicated times
But some say that it shines out
A bit more easily there
And for just five bucks, you can find out
At the brown county fair

Some say that it shines out
A bit more frequently there
For just five bucks, you can find out
At the Brown County Fair

Maggie Jane has a family
And makes a good salary
Her life is quite ordinary
Except for her astronaut dreams

They happen when she is sleeping
They happen when she’s awake
They come like abductors who sneak in
And carry poor Maggie away

CHORUS:
Suddenly Maggie Jane is floating high in space
Up among the super novi and the bright nebulae
And the earth is just another point of light, far away

Keep busy say the doctors
Clean house, turn on the TV
And they give her pills to stop her
From having her astronaut dreams

But the Universe still keeps calling
And haunting her daily routine
And defenses are slim when the light years creep in
And then steal her away beyond reach
CHORUS:

And that world of her work and her bills and her children
Is a tiny place in a remote solar system
And the size and the scope of the space where she floats
Is so big, so very big

So if you run into Maggie
And meet with an eerie stare
Don’t think she’s cold if you get no hello
Because Maggie Jane may not be there

I saw the Buddha open up his eyes
One Sunday morning
Say he’s invited to a party for Christ
And he must be going
He heaved himself up with a groan, standing slowly
Came down those steps of stone, and asked me
Where to catch the next train to Jerusalem

In India he sang with Hindus as they prayed
By the Ganges when the dawn came
Near Arabia, he saw Mohammed on the train
And asked if he would join him
Passing those teeming towns, they talked for hours
All about the truth and how it’s discovered
Trading bits of news and stories from these thousand years

Saying “great idea, this party for Jesus”
Then Mohammed said “hey Buddha, it’s great to see ya”

Finding the place with the help of Abraham
Waving from the doorway
They greeted faces from a thousand holy lands
Present day and all ages (always)
Everybody talking, laughing, fiercely debating
Saying how desperately the world is changing
Then somebody lit the two-thousand candles

And they all toasted Jesus, born in a stable
Then Jesus said “hey, let’s not be such strangers”

I like to make ‘em out of birch bark skins
I studied how with the Indians
A little pine tar, nice and thin
Makes a boat float just right

I like to brag about the perfect stroke
I own a paddle made of aged oak
Every maneuver I can do by rote
But there’s one thing I don’t like

CHORUS: Don’t like to put the paddle in the water
That would be a crazy thing to do
I don’t want to be no fishes’ fodder
I don’t want to tip in that canoe
I’d rather be a dreamer on the shoreline
Than a hero at the bottom of the lake
I never put the paddle in the water
That would be a dangerous mistake

I sing “Allouette” in Francais
Just like the French in Hudson Bay
I smoke a pipe and drink Beaujolais
And I tell a tall tale or two

I know every river and portage
And in an emergency, I know triage
I smell a storm like a weather cock
But there’s one thing I won’t do

CHORUS:

I know the tensile strength of each one
Fiberglass or aluminum
I make plans and study maps
Draw lines across the world and back
I like to train on weight machines
Carbo-load and high protein
I’m a fanatic, it would seem
But baby, I’m no fool

CHORUS:

Edgar Allen Poe had it
In his tell tale heart
It’s the finest time to strike
Said Napolean Bonaparte

Inmates make their break into it
Cavemen make their art
Spy planes fly and spelunkers hunker
Somewhere in the dark

Batman catches criminals in the dark of night
Saving Gotham City from evil designs
Darkness, lovers love in and
Dreamers tend to like
And if you think you’re neither one
Well, in the dark, that’s just what
You might become

Some celestial bodies like to
Strut their stuff alot
But we know Mr. Black Hole is the
Big boy on the block

King Tut looked pretty comfy
In that old dark tomb
What’s good for an Egyptian mummy
Might be right for you

What’s the fun relying on something you can see?
That’s just so passe when you run toward the light
Why not make a dangerous tryst with mystery?
It’s a downright frightening hole
Watch your head
Down you go

Larry lost his inhibitions
Sally felt a spark
Jacob saw a mystic vision
Somewhere in the dark

Black cats eke out a descent living
Monsters make it far
You might find what you’ve been missing
Somewhere in
The Dark

His kin came from across the sea
He’s as tame as he can be
Born of the western mind
A child of the left-brained kind
A metal car on a concrete road
Is how he gets everywhere he goes
An automated and a mechanized mode
Is all he’s ever known

In his sober land
He does the dance of a modern man
But sometimes, when he’s sleeping, his soul
Is running with the buffalo

His mind calculates another fact
But his memory is searching back
To something he can’t quite recall
Or doesn’t remember at all
Something like a spiritual trance
Round and round in a circle dance
Round the light of a midnight fire
Freeing him as it grows higher

In his sober land
He does the dance of a modern man
But sometimes, when he’s sleeping, his soul
Is running with the buffalo

Great Spirit of this broken land
Have mercy on the modern man
Teach him how, body and soul
To go running with buffalo

Buffalo
Prairie below your feet
The hunter’s bow
Keeping your senses keen
The milky way
Over your traveling
And the plain
Is like an endless sea

You are the sun
I am the dew
Gifted with life for a moment or two
That I for my time
May sparkle and shine
O Sun, come fill me with you
O Sun, come fill me with you

You are the wind
I am the sail
You are my strength and without you I fail
Breathe but a sigh
And I’ll open wide
O Wind, come fill me with you
O Wind, come fill me with you

You are the wine
I am the cup
I can yield nothing till I am filled up
Hold me upright
And pour forth your life
O Wine, come fill me with you
O Wine, come fill me with you

O Wine, come fill me
O Wind, come fill me
O Sun, come fill me
With you

That’s not how the story goes
When do heroes play it safe?
You’ve got a job and a family-o
But not a single golden egg
And a pocket full of possibilities
Hey ho Jack, when
Will you plant them
Magic beans?

Jack, Oh Jack, what scared you so?
Made you hide those beans and run
Did you hear the rumors-o
Of the fee, fi, fo, and fum?
Were you frightened of the things you
Just might see
Hey ho Jack-o
If you plant those
Magic beans?

Jack, it’s not too late you know
To sow those seeds of fate
So throw them out your wind-o
Go to sleep, and when you wake
Things will happen
Things you never dared to dream
But they won’t happen
Unless you plant them
Magic beans

Farmer John wandered back
And when he reached the pumpkin patch, began to speak
He said “the weather’s getting colder
Summer’s over and it’s almost Halloween
That’s the day, the reason you were raised
When everything about your life will change

You will have eyes to see, and for that night, you’ll be
A bright lamp burning in the darkness
But remember that candle shines for only the briefest time
In a jack-o-lantern’s heart”

The pumpkins held a meeting then
Some were very apprehensive and afraid
“Could this really happen to us?
What could be the meaning?” is what they were saying
“This is home, it’s all we’ve ever known”
Then one bold, outspoken pumpkin spoke

He said
“I don’t need eyes to see , it sounds like a lie to me
I like it just fine here in John’s garden
And remember that candle shines for only the briefest time
In a jack-o-lantern’s heart”

There is much to ask and to ponder in the pumpkin patch
When imposing old October shows up at last

Then a pumpkin from the farther end
Who had been silent up till then
Over the commotion, said
“What would you rather have my friends
A chance to shine, or die here on the vine?
The better way seems very plain to me

You will have eyes to see, and for that night, you’ll be
A bright lamp burning in the darkness
And maybe that candle shines for only the briefest time
In a jack-o-lantern’s heart
Oh, but one goblin’s smile should make it all well worth while
You know you might even see the starlight
And knowing that time is brief, makes it that much more sweet
When you have a jack-o-lantern’s heart”

Edgar Allen Poe had it
In his tell tale heart
It’s the finest time to strike
Said Napolean Bonaparte

Inmates make their break into it
Cavemen make their art
Spy planes fly and spelunkers hunker
Somewhere in the dark

Batman catches criminals in the dark of night
Saving Gotham City from evil designs
Darkness, lovers love in and
Dreamers tend to like
And if you think you’re neither one
Well, in the dark, that’s just what
You might become

Some celestial bodies like to
Strut their stuff alot
But we know Mr. Black Hole is the
Big boy on the block

King Tut looked pretty comfy
In that old dark tomb
What’s good for an Egyptian mummy
Might be right for you

What’s the fun relying on something you can see?
That’s just so passe when you run toward the light
Why not make a dangerous tryst with mystery?
It’s a downright frightening hole
Watch your head
Down you go

Larry lost his inhibitions
Sally felt a spark
Jacob saw a mystic vision
Somewhere in the dark

Black cats eke out a descent living
Monsters make it far
You might find what you’ve been missing
Somewhere in
The Dark

My name is Charlie Porter
I was a union soldier
In ‘61, I signed up to fight
And it was a great adventure
But I have to tell you
Not the fairytale I had in mind

And when General Lee surrendered
And victory finally arrived
I heard no one hoot or holler
No hip-hurray for the stars and stripes
We only cried

Back when it started
Proud and foolish hearted
I thought I had a taste for rebel blood
But we were only children
They killed us and we killed them
And the misery and the dying made us numb

By then, holding back the sorrow
Was kind of like holding back the tide
The men did not hoot or holler
Nor hip-hurray for the stars and stripes
We only cried

And oh, victory seems hollow
At the price of half a million lives
A cold and weary stillness follows
You hear no hip-hurray for stars and stripes
You only cry

Now touch the air softly,
Step gently. One, two...
I’ll love you till roses
Are robin’s-egg blue;
I’ll love you till gravel
Is eaten for bread,
And lemons are orange,
And lavender’s red.

Now touch the air softly,
Swing gently the broom.
I’ll love you till windows
Are all of a room;
And the table is laid,
And the table is bare,
And the ceiling reposes
On bottomless air.

I’ll love you till Heaven
Rips the stars from his coat,
And the Moon rows away in
A glass-bottomed boat;
And Orion steps down
Like a diver below,
And Earth is ablaze,
And Ocean aglow.

So touch the air softly,
And swing the broom high.
We will dust the gray mountains,
And sweep the blue sky;
And I’ll love you as long
As the furrow the plow,
As However is Ever,
And Ever is Now.

You might think I’m a banker, and on weekdays, it’s true
But underneath this poly-cotton blend is a skeleton tattoo
Which I got when I was drinking
And I’m showing off this weekend
On my brand new Harley-Davidson

I may work in an office and look respectable and clean
But you should see me dressed in leather on my American machine
You would swear that I’m blue-collar
On my 15-thousand dollar
Deluxe, brand new Harley-Davidson

Come Friday evening
I don’t shower, I don’t shave
And I put my little earring in
And it’s time to misbehave
Yes I will clean your teeth on Monday
Or put braces in your mouth
But don’t flash ‘em at me Sunday, boy