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last night
a clean man on the tv
told me i’d wake up to sun
but look at that
just look at that
snow

you can’t trust anyone

last night
i told you i’d protect you
and held you closer than my skin
all this love
so much love
i won’t let in

you can’t trust anyone

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shawn pelton…drums
marty ballou…upright bass
duke levine…octave mandolin
kenny white…piano
stephen barber…string arrangement
antoine silverman…violin
entcho todorov…violin
jonathan dinklage…viola
anja wood…cello

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and now you turned the tables on us
once again, the master of disguise
somehow you were able to just slip away
right before our eyes
maybe it’s true, what doesn’t kill you makes you strong
well then please, don’t let it take too long

must be a million dreams of young men
scattered and forgotten over time
beautifully painted by the heart
then deconstructed by the mind
you chose a world that had no use for right and wrong
only please, don’t let it take too long

tonight the sky is one star brighter
down here you left a hole
that over time, will just get wider

up on the palisades, the windows down, the quiet night above
we sat in your ’66 dodge dart and passed the pipe to “all you need is love”
and really believed the world could live up to that song
singing please, don’t let it take too long
please, don’t make me wait so long

be the chance you want to take,
the change you want to make
the dream you want to wake

hold on, hold on…

i just got to ask, got to ask this one thing, i just got to ask it

don’t make me wait so long.

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shawn pelton…drums
marty ballou…bass
duke levine…acoustic & 12 string guitar
kenny white…piano, lowery organ, percussion
tom “bones” malone…trumpet, trombone, euphonium
angela reed, dee carstensen, amy helm, catherine russell…background vocals

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i’m out of my element, it’s very concerning
each breath is a stranger, the earth gave up turning
nothing distracts me for more than a minute
my skin feels unnatural as if i’m not in it
at a time like this you could be so eloquent
instead you’re so quiet, and i’m out of my element

i thought i was all-terrain, tough in any condition
i come to find out i’m mettle deficient
my eyelid’s on fire, got a heart made of glass
my shadow walked out on me and i’m fading fast
a closet claustrophobe who can’t be protected
i’m out of my element and i did not expect it

i’m trying to walk straight but the sidewalk is nervous
my tears need a curfew, my steps need a purpose

i’ve suffered fools, mostly kept them at bay
‘til the biggest one showed up in my mirror today
i’m out of my element, the operandi modus?
nobody cares or even bothers to notice.

i’m out of my element. some alternate journey
my devil-may-care has been strapped to a gurney
i’d embarrass a greek with my ‘poor me’ soliloquy
but the real tragedy is that i let you get to me

my love has misfired and i’m nursing the bruises
what once was salvation is now just a nuisance
like a suburban mom on the number 3 uptown
out of my element and too scared to turn around

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shawn pelton…drums
marty ballou…upright bass
duke levine…octave mandolin
kenny white…piano
tom “bones” malone…trombone
amy helm, catherine russell…background vocals
stephen barber…string arrangement
antoine silverman…violin
entcho todorov…violin
johnathan dinklage…viola
anja wood…cello

she’s coming today…she’s not coming today
she’s coming tomorrow…she’s not coming tomorrow
she might come on friday…she’ll see how she feels
she’s coming on saturday

i’m really so happy…i’m really not happy
we’re gonna do something…we might not do anything
there’re so many movies…she gets lots of headaches
she’s coming on saturday

she tried being buddhist, her friends got so angry
she practices yoga and tries to act calm
but no one believes her, they think she’s a time bomb

sometimes when she’s talking, you’d think i was standing
in the next county… not right next to her
she wishes that high school lasted much longer
she’s coming on saturday

she’s staring at pictures of hollywood couples
i don’t think she owns a hardcover book
i sit and imagine her life without me……

she’ll pick out a husband who called her an angel
when neither was sober and the music was loud
they’ll buy a tv that takes up the whole room
her husband won’t drown her and then try to hide it
by rolling her up in her favorite rug
she won’t make the news, not even the local ……
glug, glug, glug

instead i will focus on more of the good things
she’s nice to the cat when it stays off the sofa
and now when i kiss her, she might leave the light on
she’s coming on saturday

she talks to her mother a lot for a grown up
she puts on her make up to go to the beach
her face doesn’t help her when she goes to smile

she hates talking dirty and thinks i’m a pervert
who really doesn’t know the first thing about love
i’ll take her to dinner, she’ll eat next to nothing
but she’s coming on saturday
she’s coming on saturday

like it or not it seems to work
she’s really so empty, i’m really a jerk
we fight like the armenians and the turks
to think that you’d care is a little berserk
and i don’t mean to offend with that last turk line
i just needed to come up with some ‘erk’ rhyme
on these lines, you can tell i have not spent long
i figure, why start now at the end of the song?
so i’m leaving you here with these two lost souls
who don’t deserve a, we’ll just call them b-holes
they deserve each other but no more of your time
so i’m freeing you from this conundrum of mine
beause you might not get it, you might not see
what the attraction could possibly be
i’m getting in touch with the masochist in me
and she’s coming…she’s coming on saturday

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shawn pelton…drums
marty ballou…upright bass
duke levine…guitar
kenny white…piano

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i thought of all the words i might’ve said
you know the ones that come into your head later on
but you’ve become a stranger, and our love took it’s final bow
so what good would that do me now

so few prayers have risen from my lips
i feel we should be steering our own ships in these times
but if tonight gets any darker, i might send one up anyhow
but what good would that do me now

it’s been so long i hardly recognize the cold
the summer vines gone brittle, the maples turning gold
i know how to survive this, that’s not the mystery
what i want to know is, is there someone for me

maybe i misjudged you, it’s easy to have done
even shards of glass can pass for diamonds in the sun
or could it be we never had that kind of love
when you think forever would still not be enough

right now i guess the only thing that’s known
is that it’s time to learn to sleep alone again
but i’ll hold you ‘til the morning
or at least as long as dreams allow
but what good would that do me now
what good would that do me now

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shawn pelton…drums
marty ballou…upright bass
duke levine…guitar
kenny white…piano
tom beckham…vibes
chris palmmaro…B3

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you sit there all day putting meaning into songs
if you’re looking for a hit, you’re going about it all wrong
all that psychobabble and mouthfulls of clever
i’ll tell you when you’ll hit the charts…how about never?
well i have studied on this and my calculation’s true
here’s a little tip that could work for even you

you gotta sing high, then even higher
gotta look sensitive, mess up your hair
but not like you meant to, sing things like ‘you’re beautiful’
and then repeat the line. and then repeat the line.
repeat the line

you’re not getting any younger, you’re sure no pretty face
you got like, what, maybe a dozen friends on myspace?
you lost all your blue-collar credibility
you google your own name, you get kenny rogers or kenny g
no, the way i see it, you got one choice to make
right now you’re caught between a folk and a hard place

you gotta sing high, then even higher
gotta look sensitive, mess up your hair
but not like you meant to, sing things like ‘you’re beautiful’
and then repeat the line. yeah. repeat the line

i’ll tell you what you need, consider it a gift
before the brass ring is too heavy to lift
you do what i say, get a nice looking band
you’ll soon have the critics eating out of your hand

don’t forget the breakdown

who wants to hear your politics, you foaming at the mouth?
forget about playing anywhere even near the south
maybe out in oregon they’re still hugging trees
but here we’d just as soon not think about the world, so please
if you feel you must spout off about your day
could you do it in that pleasing, androgynous sort of way?

and sing it up high. no…higher. sensitive. hair.
you’re beautiful, it’s true.
and then repeat the line. repeat the line.

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shawn pelton…drums
marty ballou…bass
duke levine…ac & el guitar
kenny white…piano, B3
angela reed, dee carstensen, amy helm, catherine russell…background vocals

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a misty rain is falling through the neon light
fat tuesday in new orleans on tv tonight
they’re mostly in the parts of town that look all right
the camera never shows where the sadness goes

i wish i had an anaconda’s dna
i’d slip out of my skin and in my note i’d say
thanks to all who made me what i am today
now i’m going home. i’m tired of being alone

will i ever hold you like the night in magnolia
waiting for the storm to pass

this motel is no palace, but i’m out here to sing
my fingertips are calloused from these guitar strings
i don’t need a calendar to know it’s spring
it’s right on cue, how hard i’m missing you

and here next to my bed, inside an open drawer
Gideon is offering to show me more
the things that fill my heart come through a thousand doors
love is most divine when it draws no line

will i ever hold you like the night in magnolia
waiting for the storm to pass

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shawn pelton…drums
marty ballou…upright bass
duke levine…ac & el guitar
kenny white…piano
tom “bones” malone…euphonium
dee carstensen…harmony vocal

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damage has been done, family’s torn apart
are you the only one that couldn’t see this far
battle lines are drawn, no one gets off free
sorry you were born, i’m sure you think the same of me.

where’s the rulebook, i can’t find it…c’mon tear it into shreds
only fools have ever signed it, only fools have ever bled
try minding your own business, man who died and made you pope
anyone can tell you this is blindness that you’re calling hope
the state of georgia on their knees, got down last night to pray for rain
you can call this desperate means, or certifiably insane
i’m tired of wishing on the stars, of smokeless, hopeless, dead end bars
we’re out of bounds and pigeonholed. shined up to be bought and sold
the sour taste of politics, pound my head into the bricks
we’ve learned to live with second rate and nothing changing but the date
the revolution will be televised and sponsored by maybelline eyes
i’m afraid that too much time will pass before we pull our heads out of our
ask your child what he needs, what’s making him act out like that
ignore the fact that he might be a thoughtless, spoiled little brat
kids think they’re hot but got no fire, gadgets have replaced desire
the golden rule is still followed, but now it’s mostly about the gold
i’m tired of fingers on no pulse, of featherweight tv idols
low rent looks and highway rage, i’m tired of trying to act your age
weekend boys so meek and mild, they talk the talk but got no style
the girls win by a country mile, still lag behind in single file
the perfect couldn’t-care-less face, the hair so neatly out of place
the faint glow of sincerity, look at me – don’t look at me

everything’s all right, don’t feel so alone. jesus gonna carry you home

bibles raised, fingers point, first noses out of joint
until their closet opens wide and we shake the skeletons inside
you must be some conservative, gung-ho to die and scared to live
confusing flags with pride assuming god is on your side
before this planet’s left for dead, how ‘bout you lend a hand instead
of counting on the fiery lakes, clean up your mess, for heaven’s sake
failure’s now prosperity, lying’s now sincerity
sixty’s the new twenty eight, still everyone is running late
teachers barely pay their bills, but learn to swing a louisville
don’t matter you can’t field or run, ten million in your 401
all the broken little pieces, all the sad fashionistas
sunken cheeks and rotten moods, phds in attitudes
here lie fifty empty shells, and suddenly there’re no more Bells
innocents are falling dead, can’t get it straight, who, when, what said
cases are just open, shut. the news gives us everything but.
another lamb fed to the slaughter, this machine is out of order.

everything’s all right, don’t feel so alone. jesus gonna carry you home

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shawn pelton…drums
marty ballou…upright bass
duke levine…guitar
kenny white…piano, arp strings, percussion
tom “bones” malone…flute
amy helm, catherine russell…background vocals

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you were caught off your guard
when my punch landed hard
innocence gone in one lucky strike
i wish i knew where you were tonight

camouflaged and hidden deep
walking ’round in my sleep
i don’t know what i did, at the time it seemed right
and now i don’t know where you are tonight

and i’m crying and i’m lost
my eyes are burning from the frost
and i’m trying. yeah i really am, it’s true
but if i don’t hear something soon i don’t know what i’ll do

you were green, and i was blue
when i first spotted you
it’s a blink of an eye from love at first sight
to wondering where you are tonight

you’re a punk, barely grown
i’m a skunk scared to be alone
you should pick on someone your own size
i swear, the world is softer in your eyes

i’m crying and i’m lost
want to burn another bridge before i cross
i was fine until love got in the way
now i only hope tomorrow is better than today

arm in arm, lips to fingers
let this one memory linger
here’s the point where i usually say
good night, sweet dreams….

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kenny white. . . piano