The Wrong Turn

We took a wrong turn 
At The Old Bardstown Mill
The sign said go right
At the top of the hill

As it turns out
The right turn was wrong
Hence why I'm singing
This intriguing new song

Some disgruntled gent
Changed the old road sign
He pointed the arrow
Way out of line

He made it point right
When it should have been left
Which left us to wonder
Where to go next

We had to back track
Past the Old Bardstown Mill
Through growing thick fog
At the top of that hill

Then in a clearing
We corrected our course
We now took a left
Past a man on a horse

The man on the horse
Tipped his hat with wide brim
He carried a secret
Beknownst only to him

When we passed him
He flashed a wry smile
He knew we were lost
And knew of our trials

The fog rolled on in
From the top of the hill
The blue light of night
Gave the air a big chill

As fast as we saw him
We saw he was gone
A ghostly old spirit
Vanished into the fog

At Home With The Boltons

St. Mary’s Church, The Boltons, London – SW10

It was hard to imagine such a peaceful place in one of the worlds largest cities. I loved living in London – SW-10. This song is about this picture – and the feeling I had there – for the short time I lived there in the late 80’s. No lyrics – just an instrumental – because the picture speaks louder than words.

Old Number 22

Old Number 22 on the tracks
In a railroad museum
Wooden seats bright trolley wheels
Rode the cities rails of steel

Back and forth on the citys wharf
Fog horns forlorn moan
Misty silver blue night air
Friendly car taking me home

Chorus
Bright orange cars
Black fancy trim
Big front lights
For the foggy nights

Hollywood Road

A special place
I'll never forget
Hollywood Road
Old Brompton Town

A mellow place
A special place
Peaceful, alive
A place to sing

The Little Bolton's
An old stone church
Blocks of flats
I set my search

I prowled the streets
Nothing was planned
Decisive moments
With camera in hand

Hyde Park
Green Park
Walk to SOHO
Every day

Back streets
Very quiet
A place to think
About life

Ephemera

Every song I write
Is a photograph
Telling a tale
About wheat or chaff

The wheat might be
A sunny day
The chaff might be
Skies of gray


Images, emotions
Feelings that I've had
Most were good
Some were sad

My inner eye
A camera
Has an ear
For ephemera


Everything is ephemera
Nothing lasts forever
That's why I try
To never say never

My inner eye
A camera
Has an ear
For ephemera

Frank Lloyd Wrong

He built his house
Without a care
Trailer trash
Junk everywhere

Plied with wine
And plied with wood
Some chicken wire
He's Feelin' good

His Mommy's money
Why should he care
If he gives his neighbors
A depressing scare

Then his roof leaked
A spark in a wire
His dried out field
Just caught on fire

Richard Tater

I know a man whose
Made out of wood
The women adored him
Because he's that good

It might be the gap
Between his two teeth
It might be the wood
That he has underneath

This is the story
Of old Richard Tater
Intellectual lover
International player

He stole from the rich
And gave to the poor
He fancied the ladies
Whom he gave so much more

A real ladies man
Who knew how they feel
An emotional healer
Too good to be real

Alas he's not real
Nor are his girl friends
They are just dolls
And a wooden puppet head

Chorus
Richard Tater
The ladies man
Wooden Prince Charming
Who ruled all the land

All Knowing

The more I age 
The more I grow
Experience trumps
What I know

When I was young
I knew it all
False confidence
I had a ball

But now I know
What I don't
It humbles me
It's changed my tone

Becoming sage
Is knowing that
You don't know nuthin
A natural fact

Chorus
I've had fun
At every age
A learning play
The world's a stage


The Seance for Professor Drake

The Professor
Knowledge ingester
Buried in books
Library nooks

So much knowledge
Taught at college
His secret dream
Was the silver screen

He loved drama
Followed that karma
Never to be
Sad broken dream

Back in his class
The news was sad
His body was found
In the river, he drowned

Chorus
Buried in dreams
The skeleton key
Unlocked his heart
To the silver screen


The Good Life

The road ahead
Is what you will
Either brightness filled
Or dark and nil

The secret trick
Worry just a tad
Worrying too much
Will drive you mad

No one owes you
No one cares
Reach out to others
Don't be scared

When you care
About all others
They'll care back like
Sisters and brothers

It's up to you to
Kill em with kindness
Negative people
Are always spineless

Don't go walking
Into their trap
Sing past their woe
And ignore their crap