Lyrics to My Songs
Songs - I've never been a prolific songwriter. About 30 years ago I did a concert of all my songs and it only took 1/2 hour. But I've written a few since then. And reworked a lot of other people's.
Index
Abe Sammon’s Applejack
And I Wonder if You're Watching the Moon Too?
Arthritis Blues
Boatman Dance
Eggers Girls
Every Song That I Sing is for You
Fort Dix
Getting Dark Again
Huzzah for the Girls of the Fair
In This Land
Irish Girls
Jan, Warren and Carol
Joanie
Joy of Our Heart
Kingston Town is a Bluestone Town
Late Again
Magic Penny
The Music Will Follow Us
My Homes Across the Hudson Valley
My Home by the Hills
My Christmas wish come true
9420 Wogan Terrace
Over the Hills and Far Away
Peace in the World
The People's Voice
Pumpkinville
Read Me the Dead
Round the Roundabout
Sail Clearwater
Setting Sun
Smoke Goes Everywhere
Song of Eventide
Streets of Kingston
Suzie
Swing Your Ax Slowly
Ulster County, USA
White Crosses
Wind Blows the Willows
You Honored Us
Poetry
Bean Sprout
Doonis
Florence
John Blaine
Keep in Harmony with Yourself
Love Song
Renaissance Fair – 1975
ABE SAMMON'S APPLEJACK
by Bob Lusk (based on a poem by Willy O'Brien)
Note – I didn’t write this one, but reworked it significantly.
Written in the 1940's and collected by Norman Studer. I learned the tune from his grandson, Eric Levine. I put together the chorus from a few lines of the verses. Years later I went back to the original to see if it should be “running rivers” or rushing rivers”. The truth is I made that line up out of whole cloth.
(From an article " 'Whirling' and Applejack in the Catskills by Norman Studer)
"Moving eastward across the Catskills to the Hudson River Valley we found an amusing poem in Rosendale, once the center of the cement industry of the nation. This tall tale in verse was furnished by Pat Riley, who claimed to be the oldest resident of Rosendale. Mr. Riley says that the author was Willy O'Brien, who worked in the cement mines. Abe Sammons owned a distillery in Rosendale.”
Chorus:
I'd like a drink of Applejack, or a little drink of ale
That good old stuff Abe Sammons made in the town of Rosendale
You can have your running rivers, your cozy mountain shacks
But just drain all the oceans and put in Applejack
Now, it cured a man at Rock Locks, they'd given up for dead
He took a drink of Applejack, and he jumped right out of bed
It was good for all that ails you, it would drive away the blues
It made a long ear rabbit bite a bullfrog right in two
Chorus:
I'd like to turn the clock back some forty years or more
Just for a night of dances on Abe Sammons' bar room floor
I'd like to dance to 'Home Sweet Home' with those old friends of
mine
And have one good old parting drink of apple, beer or wine
Chorus
Now Kentucky rye or bourbon, good old New England rum
Might warm the cockles of our hearts when winters days are done
But the juice of Ulster's apples will bring back many a dream
To the folks away up yonder, up in Rosendale I mean
Final Chorus:
AND I WONDER IF YOU'RE WATCHING THE MOON TOO?
c. Bob Lusk 10/2007
Each night I hope and pray your love won’t go away
I’m waiting out here for you dear
Out in the open sky, don’t cha hear the coyotes cry
And I wonder if you’re watching the moon too
Yodel
The stars dance around, we’re stuck here on the ground
It’s lonesome here beneath the prairie moon
To even feel your touch, would warm me, oh so much
And I wonder if you’re watching the moon too
Yodel
The moon is riding high, up in the sky
And I don’t believe we’ll get to sleep tonight
Let the moonlight shine, on your home and mine,
And I wonder if you’re watching the moon too
Yodel
And I wonder if you’re watching the moon too
And I love you and I love you and I love you
*
(Learned from an old Jack Elliott recording. He got it from Butch Hawes. I just wrote some new verses. Good for health care protests!)
He looked in his book and told me what I had
And it's all kinds of trouble, gonna find you somehow
All kinds of trouble, gonna find you somehow
Arthritis is a thing to miss it
Leaves you walking with a double twisted
And it's……….
Can't stand up, can't lay down
Can't set on the chair, can't roll on the ground
And it's……….
Doctor, Doctor, Doctor get your X-ray machine
Well it feels so good just to battle that morphine
And it's……….
I went to the Doctor and asked him where to go
He said first I've gotta ask the HMO
And it's……….
You got your Blue Cross, you've got your Blue Shield
You've got your double cross, tell me how does it feel
And it's……….
When you get to heaven, tell the judge for me
I've had 16 years of the 3rd degree
And it's……….
Arthritis is a thing to miss it
Leaves you walking with a double twisted
And it's all kinds of trouble, gonna find you somehow
All kinds of trouble, gonna find you somehow
Boatman dance, boatman sing
Boatman do most anything
Boatman sing, boatman play
Boatman dance your life away
Chorus:
Dance boatman dance
Dance boatman dance
Dance all night till the broad daylight
Go home with the gals in the morning
Hey, ho, boatman row
Sailing down the river on the Ohio
Hey, ho, boatman row
Sailing down the river on the Ohio
Now when that boatman blows his horn
Look out farmer, your rooster's gone
He stole my sheep and he stole my goat
Put 'em in a bag and went to the boat
Four and twenty boatman in a flock
Sitting by the seaside picking on a rock
Pickin on a rock, picking on a fiddle
Pickin a catfish, bones in the middle
Waterways, rivers, canals and streams
We gotta work to make them clean
We work all day out on the bay
Then we dance the night away
(Bob Eggers was a friend. His family are a bunch of live wires and his daughters are very beautiful. To the tune of "Gloucester Boys" by Dan Agular.)
Eggers girls shine so bright
Eggers girls are sweet and saucy
Egggers girls stay out all night
Amy plays the flute quite gaily
Teaches meadowlarks to sing
All her daughters gather round her
Like the flowers in the spring
Cindy, Cindy lovely Cindy
Fair of form and fair of face
Weaves a story, takes a picture,
Sings a song with tender grace
Bouncing, Baby, Betsy, Beebe
Riding proudly in the wind
Strong and steady, sweet as candy
Cute and winsome, neat and trim
Brother Bill is fine and handsome
Takes the stage and tells his tale
Full of fun and full of family
Trims the riggin, sets his sails
*Every Song That I Sing is for You *
c. 2003 Bob Lusk
(A love song similar in tune to to the Irish “Fine Felt Hat” song. )
And the grass is growing green
I've never seen a sunrise quite like that before
I'm feeling 1/2 my years and I 'm smiling through my tears
And every song that I sing is for you
Chorus:
Every song that I sing, every word that I say
Every breath that I take, every note that I play
You're my hope in life and you know you fill my heart
And every song I sing is for you
Chorus:
Now I've got my feet back on the ground
And the trees have all turned brown
But there's music in the sound of scattered leaves
There's time to work and play, time to pack my things away
But every song that I sing is for you
Chorus:
Now I have no time to spare
the leaves are all stripped bare
But it's fun making angels in the snow
There's shelter from the storm and love to keep me warm
And every song that I sing is for you
Chorus:
The snow melts into mud
and spring leaves start to bud
You're my flower of all flowers and my song of all songs
I'm not sure where I belong but you know I'll get along
And every song that I sing is for you
Chorus:
As we travel through the years
I've had my share of tears
I've often wished that things could be different than they are
but I don't have regrets and I praise the day we met or
(Streams and rivers may run dry, I might never reach the sky)
But every song I sing will be for you
*
FORT DIX STOCKADE*Words: Bob Lusk c. 1980 Tune: Columbus Stockade
(I was in the Fort Dix, New Jersey, Stockade from September 1967 to February 1968 because I refused to serve in Vietnam. I wrote this song in 1980 when I was playing with the Irish Bluegrass group 'The Green Ridge Boys'. The original stockade has now been demolished.)
Over there, in Fort Dix. New Jersey
That's where I don't want to be
Over there, in that old stockade
Take me back to New York City
Chorus:
Oh you can take me back to Brooklyn
The Bronx or the Queens will be fine
Just turn me loose from this old stockade
I tell you buddy I won't mind
Late last night, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
When I awoke I was mistaken
Please keep my darling safe from harm
I don't want to cross the ocean
Don't want to fight any rich man's war
But if I ever leave this stockade
Ain't never comin back no more
Well talk about the food,
Buddy, we don't get half enough
And the guards, they treat you mean boys
I tell you buddy, it's sure rough
*
GETTING DARK AGAIN
(Words and music by T.R. "Buddy" MacDonald) last verse by Bob Lusk 2003
In honor of my famous music partys. Usually the last Saturday in January. Ya'll come!
There's a drink upon the table, there's one who calls for more
And there's Gaelic in the fiddle like the Gaelic in the glen
And the songs take on new meaning boys, she's getting dark again
Getting dark again, getting dark again
For the second time since we got up It's getting dark again
There was tea and tunes this morning, or was it yesterday
When friends and fiddles gathered and friends and fiddles play
There were lots of those were good times and do you remember when
But that was jigs and reels ago, now it's getting dark again
Now if any of you are slighted by the deeds that now are done
By the fellowship of music and the fantasy of fun
Well we'd like to say we're sorry, shed a tear for you, but then
We haven't got the time right now 'cause it's getting dark again
Bob and Pat hold down the kitchen, while Earl fiddles in the hall
Musicians fill the other rooms, you couldn't count them all
Then all at once we pause and we listen to the call
As Ernies peals the pipes and the sun comes out again
Out again, the sun comes out again,
It looks like Monday morning as the sun comes out again
There's a piper in the corner, there's a dancer on the floor
There's a drink upon the table, there's one who calls for more
And there's Gaelic in the fiddle like the Gaelic in the glen
And the songs take on new meaning boys, the sun comes out again
*
(The chorus is the same, but each verse is a folk song re-write, many more new verses need to be written.)
Huzzah for the girls of the faire, me boys,
Huzzah for the girls of the faire
They're winsome and buxom and saucy
Huzzah for the girls of the faire
In dublins fair city where the girls are so pretty, it's there I first met sweet Molly Malone.
She wheeled her wheel barrel, through the streets broad and narrow shouting:
I'll muscle your cockle at the Renaissance Faire
Chorus
(Blues)
Candy Girl, Candy Girl,
Candy Girl, Candy Girl,
Candy Girl, Candy Girl,
Going down to the Renaissance Faire
Get my candy there
Chorus
Heave ho my lads the girls are free
A pleasant song is on our lee
and soon across the meadow clear a gallant shantey will we hear
Then here's to the pirates both buxom and so fair
Drinking, Drinking down by the tavern green, the Crimson Pirates will soon be on the scene
Chorus
Rat girl, rat girl, what do you say
Gonna get you alone at the fair .some day
Rat girl, rat girl I can't sit down,
When I see you squirming around the town
Chorus
Queen, princess, shopkeeper's wife
Barmaid, warriors, belly dancers, hair girls
Brylcream any dab will do ya
They love to run their fingers through your hair
In this land, in this land
We need peace and justice in this land
Well we want a lot of things
We want cars and diamond rings
But we need peace and justice in our land
Across this land, across this land
In their land, in their land
They need food and shelter in their land
Music: David Lee Roth Words: Bob Lusk
(I've never actually been able to sing this one - It goes up too high. Perhaps someday someone else will! I've noticed a few teenagers have picked this one up and are circulating it on the net. Of course they are doing it because they think that it is horrible!)
I really dig those styles they wear
And the Cork girls with the way they talk
they knock me out when I'm down there
Those Limerick farmer's daughters
really make you feel all right
And the Belfast girls with the way they kiss
they keep their boyfriends warm at night
Chorus:
Aren't you glad that they're all Irish (girls)
Aren't you glad that they're all Irish girls
Girls, girls, girls, girls
Well Galway has the sunshine
and the girls all get so tan
And I like to do it in Donegal
where they treat you like you're a man
I've been all around this great big world
and I've seen all kinds of girls
But Gramachree, I can't wait, to get back home
back to the cutest girls in the world
Chorus
Now Dublin got the dusty babes
and Connaght feels so right
I'll kick up my heels at a celeigh
on a stormy Belfast night
I'll drink my mead with a lass from Meath
and I'll catch her if I can
We'll monster mash at a Munster bash
Come on now, give me your hand
Chorus
*
*JAN, CAROL AND WARREN*
Bob Lusk c.1982
(A song about 3 friends of mine, only loosely based on Kris Kristoferson's 'Silver Tongued Devil'. Orionally titled "The King, the Queen and the Jack")
Jan and I, we smoked a bowl
At the Tallyho tavern we barely survive
Right on the edge, not getting ahead
Keeping our dreams alive
We always thought we'd never get caught
Live our lives easy and free
But time catches up; and we ain't catching on
It's all closing in on me
So I took to the road, like a man with a load
Gonna knock them over the head
I'll sing my songs, and I'll play my tunes
I can't work, so I'll dream instead
Then I went to Carol and tried to seduce her
Opened myself to her hands
She'd lost her man, so we made our plans
And shared our prisons of love
Then she tried to cut me, she couldn't be trusted
My god I barely survived
My home no more, I ran for the door
Hope somebody’s keeping score
Then I took to the road like a man with a load
Gonna knock them over the head
I'll sing my songs, and I'll play my tunes
I can't love so I'll flee instead
I ran to Warren, and I tried to bribe him
I'd pay any price for my soul
Make me a man, and lend me your voice
I'll sing till the cows come home
I offered him riches and fortune and fame
If he would only sing with me
He shook his head, and all that he said was
"You ain't getting nothing from me"
So I took to the road like a man with a load
Gonna knock them over the head
I'll sing my own songs, and play my own blues
But they want the silver tongued devil, not me
*
*JOANIE*
Words and Music Bob Lusk c. 1967
(Joanie was and still is a good friend. This song was the product of a young mind - mine not hers.)
Joanie speaks sharply of the things I love so well
She thinks I'm chasing clouds, doesn't know that I
can't tell
Of the things I've seen and the places that I've been
I hope she'll see a few of them before her life ends
One Sunday in September I took a walk through hell
But there was a little bit of heaven, I was with a
friend that I knew well
We saw Satan smiling with a leer in his eyes
But as we came into the sunlight, Satan's image died
Now I've seen purple rabbits moving softly in the glen
And I've seen Warlocks and Witches in a land that once
has been I've fought dragons and demons and felt the sharpness
of death
Now I'm in love with life and I live to feel (each?) my breath
I've seen beauty in the trees in the morning in the sun
Seen people playing silently and people on the run
I've been to magic lands and into simple homes
Seen the majesty of Greece and the glory that was Rome
Joanie speaks sharply of the things I love so well
She thinks I'm chasing clouds, doesn't know that I can't tell
Of the things I've seen and the places that I've been
I hope she'll see a few of them before her life ends
*
Joy of Our Heart
Tune: Planxty Irwin by O'Carolin Words: c2003 Bob Lusk
(Written for my son, Roberto Dean Lusk )
Joy of our heart, we're always with you
Joy of our heart, please know we care
A/phas a/r gcroi always beside you
Keeping you warm and free from care
Life is hard, the road uneven
Time goes on where ere we go
Where ere you go, we'll be beside you
Joy of our heart, we love you so
The simple joys, the simple pleasures
Simple words of a simple song
The simple life we've lived together
You simply in our heart belong
Felicidad de nuesto corazon
Watching you grow big and strong
Feel our love in your heart also
Keeping us there where we belong
*
Kingston town is a bluestone town, Kingston
Kingston town is a bluestone town
From the stockade down to Roundout town
In Kingston, Lord God, Kingston
Hogan here and hogan there in Kindston 2x
Hogan here and hogan there
Hogans almost everywhere
In Kingston, Lord God, Kingston
What did Ward Todd steal in Kingston? 2x
What did Ward Todd steal in Kingston
Stole the jail now he' out on bail
In Kingston, Lord God, Kingston
Words and music by Bob Lusk (c) 1997
(Written for a Unitarian Universalist service on "Procastination".)
I'm up in the morning get the kid to school
We fight over clothes I feel like a fool
Breakfast, vitamins, get his teeth brushed
Oh I'm in a rush
Chorus:
Late again
Life just gets harder day by day
Late again
Let me put it off till tomorrow, I just can't do it today
Get to work there's a meeting at 9.
At 9:15 I'll be on time
At 9:30 I'm running late
It's 10:00, hurry up and wait
Gotta answer the phone, they're knocking at the door
I keep on giving but they want more.
There's interest, late fees, can't stay on time
At my funeral gonna miss my deadline
Paperwork’s piled higher today
If I keep staring it'll go away
I shuffle them left, I shuffle them right
If we keep on shuffling we'll be all right
Chorus:
Late again
Yeah Boss, My paperwork is late again!
Late again
Let me put it off till tomorrow, I just can't do it today
I'm running from my job going back home
You know I can't leave my kid alone
Got shopping, dry cleaners, groceries of course
Am I a daddy or just a packhorse
Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise
But late night TV soothes my mind
And in the morning I take my time
I just can't do it today, can't seem to find the way, need to find my inner child, take some time and meditate, I really should go for a walk, gotta exercise and lose some weight, maybe tomorrow I'll go on a diet, get my life together, see a financial consultant, pay last years taxes, mail in my Unitarian Universalist 1996-97 Pledge Card
*
*MAGIC PENNY*
(Original words - Faith Petric
New verses by Bob Lusk for
Port Ewen Reformed Church 8/31/92)
Love is something if you give it away
Give it away, give it away
Love is something if you give it away
You end up having more
It's just like a magic penny
Hold it tight & you won't have any
Lend it, spend it & you'll have so many
They'll roll all over the floor, for
Love is something if you give it away
Give it away, give it away
Love is something if you give it away
You end up having more
It isn't how much money you give
But how much love that you give with it
So give what you can and you'll get love
Now everybody sing!
Love is something if you give it away
Give it away, give it away
Love is something if you give it away
You end up having more
And laughter is something if you give it away
Give it away, give it away
Love is something if you give it away
You end up having more
Our Lord never held back his love
It comes down freely from above
As we get, so should we give
Down at the Port Ewen RCA!
Love is something if you give it away
Give it away, give it away
Love is something if you give it away
You end up having more
*THE MUSIC WILL FOLLOW US*
Tune: Week Before Easter Words: Bob Lusk
(I wrote "The Music Will Follow Us" in 1989 and first performed it New Year's Eve of 1990. A good friend and fine fiddler, Dan Schiavetta and I were sharing an office in a responsible non-musical job. Daunted by the lack of creative outlet, I asked for and received permission from the powers that be, to bring in my guitar. The words to the chorus then came almost full blown. The melody was derived from the traditional Irish song "The Week Before Easter". The last verse was written in 1991 with the arrival of my son, Roberto Dean Lusk. )
I am a good man, I have a good wife
I'll set down beside her, and take way her strife
And we'll be so happy the rest of our life
And the music will follow us wherever we go
And the music will follow us wherever we go
There's time for my love, there's time I say
There's time in the evening, there's time in the day
Oh, there's time for work and there's time for play
And the music will follow us wherever we go
And the music will follow us wherever we go
I've worked in your cities, I've worked in your towns
I've worked in your factories and dug up the ground
But I've always made time for to let my voice sound
And the music will follow us wherever we go
And the music will follow us wherever we go
I have friends and neighbors, we make a big show
Some play the whistle, and some play the bow
And we will play just about anything you know
And the music will follow us wherever we go
And the music will follow us wherever we go
I have a good wife, she's brought a fine son
He'll cherish our home, the wee little one
And he'll carry on when our days are done
And the music will follow him wherever he goes
And the music will follow him wherever he goes
And the music will follow him wherever we go
And the music will follow him wherever we go
(Popular as "My Home's Across The Blue Ridge Mountains", this has been reworked by several generations of Hudson Valley Folksingers including Tom Winslow, Rick Nestler and myself.)
My home's across the Hudson Valley
My home's across the Hudson Valley
My home's across the Hudson Valley
And I'm never gonna see you any more
Goodbye my melancholy baby (3 times)
And I'm never gonna see you any more
Where is that wedding ring I gave to you (3 times)
And I'm never gonna see you any more
I'm sailing on the Hudson River (3 times)
And I'm never gonna see you any more
I'm bound across the Catskill Mountains (3 times)
And I'm never gonna see you any more
My home's across the Hudson Valley (3 times)
And I'm never gonna see you any more
tune: My Home Waltz, (Me Ain House) words: Bob Lusk c2003
I'm thinking today of the best place I know
A land of the old folks, where children can grow
By the fields and streams and meadows so gay
My home by the hills in a land far away
Chorus
It’s there in my memory, my home by the hills
Be life long or short, I'd be there still
Where the flowers are blooming and the fresh farms so near
My home by the hills and my own sweet dear
There's beauty in cities, there's glitter so gay
You frolic and fritter, your whole life away
But early each morning when the whole world's asleep
That's when you find the beauty you keep
The mists on the mountains are calling to me.
The valleys so wide and the rivers so deep
But wherever I travel, wherever I roam
Wherever I wander, I'll think of my home
My Christmas Wish Come True
My Christmas wish come true
Is that you love me too
I sing this song for you
My Christmas wish come true
And we were dancing
Yes we were dancing
The world was turning
Our love was yearning
And we were dancing
Yes we were dancing
Our hearts romancing
With love so true
You say you love me dear
Our hearts can have no fear
We’ll keep our promise true
It’s my Christmas wish for you
And we were dancing
Yes we were dancing
The world was spinning
Our love was winning
And we were dancing
Yes we were dancing
Our hearts romancing
With love so true
*
9420 WOGAN TERRACE
9420 Wogan Terrace was the address of the house I grew up in. I was born in 1947 and was 13 years old in 1960. When I was 16 I was sent to a southern Baptist military academy where I watched training films about a place called Vietnam. When I was 18 I was denied conscientious objector status, drafted against my will and given orders to go to Vietnam. To make a long story short I refused to go and was court martialed, serving 6 months in the Fort Dix stockade. I was then sent to Germany where I was active in the anti-war movement in the military, served out the remainder of my time and received an honorable discharge.
Some years later I put some thoughts down in a tone poem/song, which I updated for today. It's rather narcissistic and self-involved but every once in a while I sing it as a present to myself.
My father, talked to the man who worked the tugboats
My father, knew how to ride a horse and shoot a gun
My father, rode the rails
My father, worked in the apple orchards
My father, was in the army
My father, worked in a factory
My father, had a grocery store for 30 years,
and raised 7 children
My father, came to visit me in the stockade
during the war in Vietnam
My father, can't understand why I'm trying to make a living
singing songs
My mother, always smiles
My mother, was born and raised down on the farm
My mother, worked in a department store
My mother, married my father,
and moved north
My mother, worked in the grocery store for 30 years
bore and raised 7 children
My mother, refused to come and see me when I was in the stockade during the war in Vietnam
My mother, can't understand why I'm trying to make a living
singing songs
Me, I'm just standing here
I, was born in Brooklyn
I had an unhappy childhood
I worked in the grocery store
I was drafted
I refused to go to Vietnam
Now, I'm just standing here
And sometimes, I can't understand why I'm trying to make a living
singing songs
Now, it's 20 years later
My parents sold the grocery store and moved to Florida
I live in Kingston with my wife and son
I never got over being in the stockade
I'm trying to make any kind of living I can
My wife is very understanding
My son loves war games
I'm very happy
I still sing songs
Music fills my soul
Music fills my life
Music is my joy
*
* Over the Hills and Far Away*
Were I laid on Greenland’s coast
And in my arms embrac’d my lass
Warm amidst eternal frost
Too soon the half year’s night would pass
Chorus:
And I would love you all the day
Every night would kiss and play
If with me you’d fondly stray
Over the hills and far away
Were I sold on foreign soil
Soon as the burning day was clos’d
I would mock the sultry toil
When on my charmer’s breast repos’d
There was a wind it cam to me
Ower the south and ower the sea
Then ower the hills and ower the dales
O'er all England and through Wales
*
With sincere apologies to Thomas A. Dorsey
New words by Bob Lusk
I’m so tired and so weary but I/you/we must labor on
Until we all have peace in the world
We must work day and night for what we know is right
Yes, We must all raise our voices for peace in the world
There will be peace in the world for you and me
There will be peace in the world someday I pray
They’ll be no hunger, no horror, no poverty
There will be peace in the world for you and me
The Russian bear will be gentle, the American wolf will be tame
And the Arab lion will lie down with the Christian lamb
All the nations so wild will respect the child
And they’ll be freedom for both woman and man
*
Bob Lusk c.1980
Inspired by The People's Voice Cafe in New York City
You've got to give the people their voice
A right to make their own choice
A chance to choose what they want to do
A chance to hear their voices sing
Chorus:
From California to Maine
And over and over again
Wherever you go, you can hear the people's voice
There's people singing in the street
And dancing to the beat
People painting and people talking
And people who just like to go walking
You've got to give people their space
Room to make their own place
And time to come together
A chance to love one another
The people's voice- hear it talking at ya
The people's voice- hear it singing
The people's voice- the bells are ringing
Open you ears and hear the people's voice
from my grandmother, Florence E. Lusk - collected 7/10/78 by her daughter Margie Honeck. She learned it as a child in Franklin, Illinois. It is part of a large song family that shares verses including "Great Big House in New Orleans" and " Fly Around My Pretty Little Miss".
Fourteen stories high
Every room within that house
was filled with pumpkin pie.
Run along home, run along home
And don't forget the way
Run along home with the two bright eyes
And don't forget the way
Big white house and nobody living in it
We'll move in and take it over
And fetch some clover
Then we will be living in it
Read Me the Dead
c Bob Lusk May 2006
I wrote this about Jay Wenk, David Bruner and Joan Keefe and the wonderful work they do week after week reading the names of the dead at a vigil at the Kingston Army Recruiting Office. They are all veterans and they hand out literature giving an alternative picture of life in the military from the standard pitch of the military recruiters. The Recruitment Center happens to be located in the Kings's Mall in the town of Ulster. Jay, David, Joan and I and 3 others were sued by the mall for $50,000 for trespassing on private property. We won the initial case, however with some continued restrictions on our rights of assembley and it is now (4/2007)going to the State Court of Appeals.
Every Saturday morning Jay, David and Joan
Stand by the door, at the Kings’ Mall
Outside the recruiters, they do their duty
They stand and recite, the names of the dead
Chorus: Read me the dead, what were their names?
Do you think this is some sort of game?
Read me the dead, what were their names?
Do you think this is some sort of game?
That was my son, my daughter or brother
Uncle or aunt, friend or a lover.
Why did they go, what did they hope for?
Why are we here, who wants to know?
Chorus
Cursed be the leaders, who shamed the memories
Of foot soldiers, veterans, each one a hero
These are their names, their battles have ended
We stand in their honor, we stand here for peace!
Chorus
*Round the Roundabout *
Tune: Old Joe Clark Words: c 2003 Bob Lusk
http://www.k-state.edu/roundabouts/photos/kingston.htm
Kingston used to have a traffic circle which worked just fine. We didn't ask for a Rondabout, we didn't want a Rondabout, but Albany gave us one. Now they are talking about giving us another one. Chorus
Roundabout Kingston town
Round and round I say
Roundabout Kingston town
You can't get there today
I went down to Kingston town
To dance and sing and play
But I couldn't find uptown
Cause every streets one way
I went down to Kingston town
To see my baby mine
Went round and round the Roundabout
She's nowhere to be found
City life is full of strife
Country life is fine
Find a girl in Kingston Town
We'll go round one more time
Washington Ave and Chandler Drive
28 and 209
Back on the Thruway, head back home
Relax we're doing fine
*SAIL CLEARWATER*
Words: Bob Lusk c. 1981 Tune: Roll, Alabama, Roll
The story of the building of the sloop Clearwater, an recontruction of a 17th Century sloop that sails around the Hudson giving environmental lectures along the way. The Clearwater has done a lot to clean up the Hudson in the past 35 years. The rumour is that if you're not pregnant you can eat 1 fish a week from the hudson. The brown sail is a reference to the brother and sister ships Sojourner Truth and Woody Guthrie.
When the Clearwater's Keel was laid
Sail, Clearwater, sail
It was laid in the yard of Harvey Gamasch
Oh, Sail, Clearwater, sail
It was laid in the yard of Harvey Gamasch
Sail, etc.
In the town of South Bristol, Maine
She's a hundred and six feet fore and aft
And in the water, she's a mighty fine craft
From Albany to New York town
Across the river, and up and down
Look out in the water, I see a brown sail
Sail, Woody Guthrie sail
And the Sojurner Truth, she's on his tail
Oh, Sail, Sojurner, sail
10,00 people every year
Sail, Clearwater, sail
Are helping to make our river clear
Oh, Sail, Clearwater. sail
*
*SETTING SUN*
Words and music: Bob Lusk c. 9/15/75
There's a little girl I know
with hair as white as snow
A smile as big and wide as the open range
But I left that girl behind
left a love that once was mine
The day I left the land of the setting sun
Setting sun, day is done
Setting sun, day is done
Now the city street, is hard upon my feet
I have no place to go, no place to eat
I walk the streets at night,
my only sun the streetlight
Looking for the land of the setting sun
Setting sun, day is done
Setting sun, day is done
If you've ever left your home
and started out to roam
And found you can't go home again
Then lay down to rest,
place your head upon my chest
And we'll sing about the land of the setting sun
Setting sun, day is done
setting sun, day is done
*
SMOKE GOES EVERYWHERE
Words and music by
Bob Lusk c. 1999
Smoke goes everywhere, smoke goes everywhere
On your clothes and in your hair
Smoke goes everywhere
Smoke fills up the air, smoke goes everywhere
And smoke will give you:
Mouth cancer, gum cancer, throat cancer, larynx cancer,/ esophagus cancer, breast cancer, colon cancer, kidney cancer, / pancreatic cancer, cervical cancer, bladder cancer, and lun---g cancer
Smoke goes everywhere, smoke goes everywhere
On your clothes and in your hair
Smoke goes everywhere
Smoke fills up the air, smoke goes everywhere
Don't smoke, don't toke, no joke.
And it will give you:
Heart disease, hypertension, high cholesterol, emphysema, stroke, allergies, ulcers, headaches, / coughs, colds, wheezing, asthma, / bronchitis, pneumonia and - Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease.
It'll also give you wrinkles and bad hair. / It kills your cilia and it will kill you. / Also burn down your house. 50% of all fires are caused by cigarettes.
Smoke goes everywhere, smoke goes everywhere
On your clothes and in your hair
Smoke goes everywhere
Smoke fills up the air, smoke goes everywhere
There are over 4,000 chemicals in cigarette smoke. / We know 43 cause cancer and that 401 are toxic. / We're not sure about the other 3,556 but we don't think they are good for you. Not exactly vitamins.
And smoke has nicotine, tar, carbon monoxide, vinyl chloride, / hydrogen cyanide, methanol, ammonia, arsenic, / toluene, tolu-i-dine, naphthalene, naphthy-l-amine, /nickel, phenol, butane, pyrene,/ benzo-pyrene, urethane, acetone, cadmium, polonium, / DDT. De De De De Det, - DDT! DDT!
Smoke goes everywhere, smoke goes everywhere
On your clothes and in your hair
Smoke goes everywhere
Smoke fills up the air, smoke goes everywhere
Smoke doesn't care, smoke goes everywhere.
And now the kids:
- spontaneous abortion - that means they won't even be born-,/fetal deaths, crib deaths, pre-term births, low birth weight, /bronchitis, pneumonia, ear infections. It'll even make them smell bad. If the mother smokes, smoke goes in the bloodstream from the mother to the baby - kids born a smoker, doesn't stand a chance.
Smoke kills everyone, smoke kills everyone
Your daughter and your son,
Smoke kills everyone, smoke kills everyone
Smoke kills everyone.
And it kills more people than alcohol, car accidents, suicides, murders and AIDS combined. / It kills more people than other drugs like heroin, crack ,marihuana, or cocaine. I mean it kills more people than all those things put together.
Smoke kills everyone, smoke kills everyone
The old and the young,
Smoke kills everyone.
Smoke kills everyone, smoke kills everyone
Don't smoke, Please don't smoke!
Don't smoke, Please don't smoke!
Don't smoke, Please don't smoke!
Please, please, ple-a-s-e - don't smoke!
Don't smoke around my kid in restaurants, please!
(This song was recorded by “The King’s Kids” led by James and Ralphine Childs, popular gospel singers from Kingston, NY. The recording was designed as a public service announcement and produced with a grant from the Tobacco Action Coalition of Ulster County.
The format of the CD was inspired by the old roadside “Burma Shave” commercials. The CD is broken up into 4 cuts varying in length from 30 seconds to 2 minutes. Each cut tells part of the story but is also an independent announcement in it’s own right. Stations had the choice of airing each cut in order, or any of the songs independently. At the end of the CD all of the cuts were combined into one 4 minute song. As of 6-12-06 some copies are still available - go to http://bobluskforsale.blogspot.com/)
On your clothes and in your hair
Smoke goes everywhere
Smoke fills up the air, smoke goes everywhere
And smoke will give you cancer of the mouth,
throat, kidneys and lungs,
breast, colon, bladder and gums
Don’t smoke, Please don’t smoke!
Don’t smoke, Please don’t smoke!
Smoke will give you hypertension, heart disease, wheezing and colds,
headaches, allergies, pneumonia and stroke.
It’ll give you wrinkles, high cholesterol,
smoking slows you down when you’re playing basketball
Chorus
Kills more people than alcohol, suicide, murders and AIDS,
heroin, crack ,marihuana, or cocaine
It kills more people than any kind of weather, more than all those things put together.
Smoke kills everyone, smoke kills everyone
The old and the young,
Smoke kills everyone.
Smoke kills everyone, smoke kills everyone
Over 4,000 chemicals in cigarette smoke, 401 are toxic and that’s no joke
Has nicotine, tar, and naphthalene, amonia, arsenic and taluline. Taludine, carbon monoxide, methanol, hydrogen cyanide. Nickel, pheno, urethane, acetone, cadmium and butane
What? Cadmium? Butane? I can’t even pronounce some these words, man!
Say word! It does make your breath smell to the people you meet.
Gives you yellow teeth and makes it hard to breath
Chorus
Spontaneous abortion and fetal deaths, Hyperactivity and crib deaths.
Bronchitis, asthma and sore throats, ear infections and very bad colds.
If the mother smokes, smoke goes to the bloodstream.
From the mother to the baby . Makes me want to scream!!
Makes you want to scream? How about the baby?
Ahhhhh!!
Smoke kills everyone, smoke kills everyone
Your daughter and your son,
Smoke kills everyone, smoke kills everyone
Smoke kills everyone.
Don’t smoke, Please don’t smoke!
Don’t smoke, Please don’t smoke!
Don’t smoke, Please don’t smoke!
Don’t smoke, Please don’t smoke!
"A message from the King’s Kids and the Tobacco Free Action Coalition of Ulster County"
Words and music: Bob Lusk, c. 1975
Written on the banks of Hudson River Psychiatric Center.
It was late one night at eveningtide,
my love and I went down
To see the crystal waters,
by the edge of town
We walked on by the factory,
down past the garbage scow
And to the muddy waters,
that trickled slow enow
To my true love I said these words,
I said them loud and clear
This world is no more the place,
that I once held so dear
There is pain enough and sorrow enough,
in all this world to share
I can take but little more,
so goodbye Carol dear
I jumped into the waters,
to leave this world of sin
And I landed on an old rubber tire,
that someone had thrown in
I got up and I walked back,
to my love by the shore
And vowed I'd never try,
and drown myself no more
Now Jesus walked on the waters,
or so I understand
They say it's not a feat,
to be done by mortal man
Our Lord walked on the waters,
our Lord walked on the sea
But walking on the Hudson,
was easy enough, for me
*Streets of Kingston*
Apologies to Ralph McTell
Have you seen the old man who walks down Broadway
Kicking up the paper with his worn out shoes
In his eyes you see no pride
And held loosely by his side,
yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news
How can you tell me you're lonely
And say, for you, that the sun don't shine
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of Kingston
I'll show you something to make you change your mind
Have you seen the old women down at the Grand Union
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags
She's no time for talkin, she just keeps right on walkin
Carryin her home in two shopping bags
Down at Stewarts at a quarter past eleven
Same old man sitting there on his own
Looking at the world over the rim of his coffee
Each one lasts an hour and he wanders home alone
Have you seen the families, who don't have a shelter
Bringing up their children, no food, no clothes, no home
In our winter city, the rain cries a little pity
For all these forgotten heroes and a town that doesn't care
*
*SUZIE*
Words and music: Bob Lusk, c.1968
Written while I was in the army in Stuttgart, Germany. They have great trains in Europe. I always like this song Johnny Cash also wrote a train song while he was in the army in Germany -. I think it was called something like "Folsom Prison" (:>)
Late this evening I took a south bound train
I was coming back from town without a penny to my name
And then Miss Suzie she gave me a smile
She made me a rich man,
At least, for, just a while
She asked me how I was, I said I was doing O.K.
She asked about my Ma and Pa and my sister by the way
I said they seemed to be all right, at least they were yesterday
Then we both felt stuck for words
Didn't know quite what to say
The moonlight shown upon the plains
And on Suzies golden hair
Her voice when she said goodbye echoed in the air
The train rolled on carrying me farther down the line
Carrying me far away from a world that wasn't mine
I've been around this country and had a lot of groovy times
But it's the memory of moments like this
that I'll always keep in mind
A late evening in a small cafe, a kiss in the early dawn
And a sweet goodbye from Suzie will make dreams to dream upon
Tune - take this hammer Words: Bob Lusk c 1970?
Swing your ax slowly into the woodpile 3x
Make the chips fly 2x
We are working to heat our homes 3x
Keep ourselves warm 2x
Don't use softtwood, it's too smoky 3x
Hardwood keeps you warm all night 2x
Me an my baby are under the corners 3x
Huddle close, stay warm all night 2x
*ULSTER COUNTY U.S.A.*
Tune: Kansas City Words: Bob Lusk 1985
With apologies to the Ulster County Chamber of Commerce. Ulster County has more musicians per square foot than any place else in the world.
CHORUS:
I'm going to Ulster County, Ulster County, USA
I'm going to Ulster County, Ulster County, USA
They've got some mighty fine people there - what more can I say
I'll be standing on the corner, Fair Street and Pearl
I'll be standing on the corner, Fair Street and Pearl
With my Ulster County baby, my Ulster County girl
Well I might take the bus, or I might take the train
But if I have to hitch hike, I'm going there again
I'm going to Ulster County, Ulster County, USA
They've got some mighty fine people there - what more can I say
I'll be standing on the corner, Broadway and the Strand
I'll be standing on the corner, Broadway and the Strand
I'll be making music, with my Ulster County Band
There's mountains in the North, apples in the South
I'm in the middle, well hush my mouth
I'm going to Ulster County, Ulster County, USA
They've got some mighty fine people there - what more can I say
Cause if I ever have to leave this place you know I'm gonna die
I'm going to Ulster County, let me tell you why
I'm going to Ulster County, Ulster County, USA
They've got some mighty fine people there - what more can I say
I'll be standing on the corner, Fair Street and Pine
I'll be standing on the corner, Fair Street and Pine
With my Ulster County baby, and a bottle of that good
old Ulster County Apple Wine
CHORUS:
I'm going to Ulster County, Ulster County, USA
I'm going to Ulster County, Ulster County, USA
They've got some mighty fine people there - what more can I say
*
Words:Bob Lusk tune: “Little Boxes” Malvina Reynolds
Inspired by an article in the NY Times that spoke about the new opening of lot 60 for the returning personel killed in Iraq. I sang this for the first time at a Veteran's for Peace Poetry reading in Woodstock 9-17-07. Jay Wenk, WWII vet told me afterwards that he had know Malvina and that "She would be proud".
Chorus
White crosses on the hillside
White crosses in the cemetery
White crosses, white crosses
White crosses all the same
And there’s soldiers, and there’s sailors
Marines and Air corpsman
And they all have white crosses
White crosses all the same
1
And each one had a body bag
It was draped with an American flag
And we didn’t get to see it
They snuck them in the back door
And they’re all buried in the graveyard
At Arlington National Cemetery
in lot Six-ty
They make their final rest
Chorus
2
Each one was an individual
Who had their own personality
They lived and loved and laughed
And each one had a name
And most of them had families
And people who loved them
People who voted to
Send them to war
Chorus
Wind blows the willows
Wind blows the sea
Softly my true love
Returning to me
Tone
Bright is the morning
Bright is the day
Brightly her spirit
Moves over the quay
Tone
Love is the feeling
Love is our song
Love is the memory
Why are you so long
Tone
Wind blows the willows
Wind blows the sea
Softly my true love
Returning to me
*
You Honored Us
(for my father, Paul James Lusk - b.1916 - d.2004)
When I was just a boyYou taught me how to sweep a floor
You taught me to clean my tools
Taught me to fold my bills and tuck them deep
You honored me, you honored me
Four square and true, you honored me
As my life went on, they knew your name
Are you his son? - are you the same?
They honored me when they honored you
Four square and true, they honored you
And when life was hard and I needed you
You came the extra mile and reached out for me
I needed you and you honored me
Four square and true, you honored me
And now you're gone and we're gathered her
We honor you as you honored us
We honor you as you honored us
Four square and true, you honored us
Bean Sprout
By Bob Lusk c. March, 1975
If a poem is so simple to write;
Why is it done often so badly?
If a song is so easy to sing;
Why don't we all sing?
If it is so easy to be right;:
Why is it so much fun to be wrong
If wrongs were so easy to right;
Why do we need so many wrong policemen?
When love is what we want;
Why do we settle for less?
It is so easy to make mistakes;
(That's why pencils have erasers!)
If a man was meant for greatness;
Why does he huddle in squalor?
But if we are the lilies of the fields;
Why do we wear clothes?
And if life is just a bowl of cherries;
Why must we eat meat?
*
Doonis
By Bob Lusk c 5/4/75
When I was a kid, I had three ducks.
I would fill a basin full of water,
And play with my ducks in my back yard.
Until some fat cat started to eat my ducks.
One by one, they would disappear.
He was out last night.
Not being able to find him, I wonder,
Did some fat duck eat him?
*
Florence - A note written to me by my grandmother
Wear this sweater with
A song in your heart
On street corners and bars
Your music will impart
John Blaine - This was origionally published as an editorial in the Ulster County Community College newspaper "The Tower".
By Bob Lusk c 3/15/1973
So slowly sinking slyly, John Blaine broke the back
of Brussels house.
And sprouted up behind him, a he that hovered high - and high
then sank the he, with sighing,
And bye the bye came a blithering blud, and helped the he to hide
John Blaine - even from himself. Not he but him.
Then did John Blaine grop and grapple, and grape - through
the wine.
The wine which twined round and round, rising, flying off the ground.
And when at last he sobered up, down came John Blaine upon the he,
who had him from himself
"A pox" he cried, "upon your plague - be ye demon, be ye sage.
Naught can stop John Blaine, till I reach the fair Melinda."
Over chairs and up the stairs - slipping sliding, ne'er a care.
Fleeing demons seeking freedom, seeking the fair Melinda.
"Who's that?" "Tis me, at last I've come. I'm here the seventh
son of a son."
"Me thinks you've had too much rum" spoke the fair Melinda.
"But woman blessed, no stay undressed. Let the moonbeams
touch you hair."
"Light, soft as down, shall be your gown, ere I turn back to the
stairs."
"But gee, John, it's getting late and I'm not feeling so well. I
appreciate your coming out this way - I really do, but you know
I've got to get up for work in the morning, and John! Put down
that knife John!"
It's blithering moonbeams that bat John Blaine, black blustering
billows surround him.
Back he went to the blithering blud, the he that lived within the
mud, to join them.
*
Keep in Harmony with Yourself
Bob Lusk 1971
"Keep in harmony with yourself
and let the world tear itself to shreds
If you follow your own rhythm section
You can always pick up the threads
And they will never bring you down
You'll be relaxed in this frantical town
So keep in harmony with yourself
Mister sad and brown"
c. Billy Mitchell ascap 1965
Feel the words form in your throat. You know them by heart. You were the one who wrote them and you've been singing them for the past ten years
You've got the words down pat, and you're able to think ahead a few lines. Because what you're singing now is going to affect the way you'll be singing twenty seconds from now.
That's it. Squeeze the words out. Lay them in place on top of the rhythm pattern set by your guitar.
And the sound goes into the mike, through the wires to the speakers, to the people. The people. They are the important part. Without them you'd be digging ditches.
And the people are responding, diggin the rhythm. Digging your song and the way you're singing it. Everything's right.
But it's not always this way. There's the cold nights walking the streets. The days and weeks and months when there's no place to play. There's the dream of making it. To have money. To be able to sing in the plushest clubs in town. But you know it's a trap. Between crooked managers, lousy audiences and rotten club owners you might as well forget it.
But right now you're making it. Making it big. Because you are the one that's on stage.
*
Love Song
By Bob Lusk c. early April 1975
She says- "This is so great,
we can't let it end."
And she says- "Let's go someplace,
where we can be alone."
Shyly she asks- "Were you going to give me this ring,
even before that night we made love?
And she says- "Yes,
Because we had made love with our eyes."
They rise from the table, putting on their coats.
Then the tow lovers leave, and I ask myself-
"Would I bless this romance so easily,
if one did not have a mustache on her lip?
or the other a large nose?
If either were comely, would I not see her as a potential lover,
to be added to my long list of lovers?
Because of my jealousy, would I deny this young couple their lover?
So I ponder. As I sit alone.
Drinking my coffee.
OM
By Bob Lusk circa 1975
In Fort Dix, New Jersey, as in most military bases, there is a parade ground, sometimes used for parades. (Which may be fun to watch, but are hell to be a part of.)
In the summer of 1967, several non-military type GIs including myself, would sit in a circle on the parade ground, chanting the OM mantra, watching the planes take off from Stewart Air Force Base.
As the planes would go from the extreme right to left, hugging the horizon and gaining altitude slowly, we would chant:
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
"There it is - looks small". I would think to myself.
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
"A little plane in the sky"
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
"It flies so high"
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
"Carries troops, carries death"
OM - - - - - - - -
"It flies the wind, but kills the breath"
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
"Somewhere off in Vietnam"
OM - - - - - - - -
"There flies your brother, dropping bombs"
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
OM - - - - - - - -
Renaissance Fair – 1975
May 4, 1975 Bob Lusk
On Mother’s Day, 1975, in Ulster County, USA,
I’ll be in the open air, surrounded by sights and sounds
Of 15th Century England;
Singing songs of 19th Century Ulster, Ireland
Looking across the way
There will be consort singers,
Turning my head,
Shakespeare’s words will break the centuries.
Richard will be climbing ropes, wrestling, riding,
And shooting arrows in the air.
Carol will be playing her recorder,
And selling handicrafts.
People you don’t know, but that I do,
Will be hawking, dancing, selling indulgences,
Putting on plays and puppet shows.
Horsemen will ride through the fair pursuing maidens
And other dreams.
While I sing ballads to the masses of tourists,
Who won’t feign to understand,
But just laugh at my beard
You will be far away from my world this Mother’s Day.
And yet I’ll be close to you
Childlike I’ll fantasize and play,
And play better, and with more spirit than when
I was a kid.
You won’t make my costume this year,
As you use to,
When I was your little boy.
posted by Unknown at 8:56 AM
