Overheard at Table 2: Best Ex-Husband

Listening to track 1 from John Hiatt's album "Eclipse Sessions" 

Song called "Cry to Me"

Heard the chorus and it inspired this song... I just heard in my head the line, "I'll be the best ex-husband you ever had" and took it from there:

Best Ex-Husband

   C

I won’t break your windshield

                 G

Or slash the tires of your car

   C

I won’t send you drunk texts

           G

At 2am from the bar

           D

I’ll get the kids home on time

         C

I’ll never make things worse

          D

You’ll have the child support 

   C

Every month on the first

Chorus

G       Em      C          D       G

When we’re married, I know I’m gonna let you down

        G       Em            C       D          G

It’ll start out good and then head straight to bad.

        G       Em       C             D                G

But baby when we finally drive this plane to the ground,

         G          Em     C             G

I’ll be the best ex-husband you ever had

         G         Em          C                 G

I’ll be the best ex-husband you’ve ever had

I won’t call up your friends

And tell them petty lies

I won’t hound your new boyfriend

To try to get him to fight

I won’t skip visitation 

Just to go out with some girl

Baby, I’ll make sure you know 

The kids are my world

Chorus

When we’re married, I’ll spend every night painting the town

We’ll got to bed angry and then we’ll wake up mad

But baby when decide to put these wedding rings down

I’ll be the best ex-husband you’ve ever had

I’ll be the best ex-husband you’ve ever had

MR

2021-0430

Overheard at Booth 2: Notes on The Needles

Found this in a notebook for when I was writing "Moth and Rust"

I had noted that it might be included in "Warren Peace" but perhaps I should just keep it for the other.

2013-0228

THE NEEDLES

- punked out versions of the Beatles catalog

- re-doing all albums

o Interjecting … The Needles

o Beat the Needles

o The Needles’ Second Helping

o Something Gnu

o The Needles 69

o Red Rubber Soul

o Oscillator

o Sgt Punkers Lowly Farts Club … Banned

o The Needles (The White-Out Album)

The Needles started as a punk send-up.  Their name derived – from various interviews – a euphemism for heroin addiction, their penises, their sharp wit, their intelligence, but as they continued their career in remaking each Beatles album in their own punk image, they began to have more of a social conscience. 

This became truly apparent on “Run for Your Life” in which they changed the point-of-view from a spurned lover to that of a corporate CEO.   Their re-working of the song came in the wake of what became known as the Dayton Massacre, in which the bodies of six striking workers were found dead in an alleyway.  The official report declared that the workers had been drunk, disorderly, and offended the wrong type of person; however, the obvious lack of thorough police investigation, as well as eyewitness reports stating that the killers appeared to be professional hit men, led everyone to believe that their employer had paid to have them killed.

The CEO denied the allegations as slanderous, and after a few days, the story died … due to lack of public interest.   However, The Needles, when describing their parody of the song, mentioned Thomas Leighton by name as the narrator, leading the CEO to sue them for libel.   The case was eventually settled and for an undisclosed sum.

Overheard at Table 3: More Scraps - half written "Life on the Skids"

Life on the Skids

... took a lazy turn

through the badlands of my mind

Got shot down, got turned around,

there was nothing I could find

So I made my way back home again

Using the ditches 'side the road,

Covered in mud, covered in blood

from those I'd never knowed.

All the cooks cleaning up the kitchen

and I'm staggering through the fields with the janitors' kids

someone says they wished I'd quite my bitchin'

But they ain't never lived a life on the skids

MR

2021-0315-0317

Overheard at Booth 4: S and M "Leaving California Behind"

 

Leaving California Behind

She was a sunshine blonde pretty as she could be

And I never understood what she saw in me

I woke up this morning with her on my mind

Sometimes I regret leaving California behind

 

Riding up the highway wind blowing in our hair

We were young and in love without a single care

I was Looking for something I could never find

Sometimes I regret leaving California behind

 

In my rear view mirror I can see the past

Holding on to something that could never last

I swear I must have been out of my mind

I was a fool leaving California behind

 

 

on the beach with the moon shining in her eyes

making love beneath God’s  celestial skies

I guess I must have been running blind

I was a fool leaving California behind

 

In my rear view mirror I can see the past

Holding on to something that could never last

I swear I must have been out of my mind

I was a fool leaving California behind

Steve Ogwin

2018-0419

Overheard at Booth 3: S and M "St Ursula"

 

St. Ursula

We pray to St. Ursula whose bones line these hallowed walls

May she find peace in the after world and bring solace to us all

 

An English princess swore not to be a pagan bride

Headed off to Rome 10,000 hand maidens by her side

And the road to Roma was toilsome and long

But the trip was lightened by her handmaidens’ song 

 

We pray to St. Ursula whose bones line these hallowed walls

May she find peace in the after world and bring solace to us all

 

And outside of Cologne an army of Huns they met

Ursula and her followers would not submit

So they slayed 10,000 virgins with sword and bow

Ursula forced to watch her maidens dyeing slow

 

We pray to St. Ursula whose bones line these hallowed walls

May she find peace in the after world and bring solace to us all

 

And when the last was dead, with deadly art

An arrow pierced sweet Ursula’s virgin heart

The bones of the maidens and Ursula they say

Line the walls of this Cathedral to this very day

 

We pray to St. Ursula whose bones line these hallowed walls

May she find peace in the after world and bring solace to us all

 

 Steve Ogwin

2018-0409

 

Overheard at Table 4: Cyrus in the Blood Moon

Halloween day.

Morning is crisp cold and the sky is clear, can almost still feel the tug of the moon, just there, beyond the horizon, waiting to slip back up again tonight.

Climb in the truck, man can't believe the chill, even down here in Houston.  Heading toward Waco today, someone said there's actual snow, that should be nice tonight, some crystals against the fur.

Overheard at Table 1: Don't Wanna Be on a Ventilator

Well, I don't wanna be on a ventilator
Just pull that plug and I'll see you later
Don't keep me here, don't be a hater.
I don't wanna be on ventilator

If I happen to catch some strange disease
Don't want no machine to make my heart beat
Cut the power and let my soul roam free
If I happen to catch some strange disease.

Well, I don't wanna be on a ventilator
Just pull that plug and I'll see you later
Don't keep me here, don't be a hater.
I don't wanna be on ventilator

Well, I don't wanna be on a ventilator
Just pull that plug and I'll see you later


MR
2020-0908

Overheard at Table 3: Everyone Writes Songs about New York City

Everyone writes songs about New York City
Saying New York is just the place to be.
And if they're not writing songs about Manhattan
Then they're talking about LA falling into the sea.

Everyone writes song about LA
The city of lost angels and the freedom to be
Whatever you dream of being you can be
Everyone writes songs about NYC

Chorus
But no one writes songs about Houston
Except as a passing mention in a tragedy
I've heard more songs about Tulsa
Than I've ever heard about H-Town's history

Everyone wants to make it in New York City
Everyone says they love LA
Everyone wants to hang out with Nashville Cats
Everyone wants to see the San Francisco Bay

Chorus
But no one writes songs about Houston
Except as a passing mention in a tragedy
I've heard more songs about living on Tulsa time
Than I've ever heard about H-town being for lovers like you and me.

'Cuz Houston is for lovers like you and me
Except perhaps in August - when it's too miserable to believe.




MR
2020-0824

Overheard at Booth 1: (Don't) Take Me Back to Tulsa

Once, I overheard my wife singing, "Don't take me back to Tulsa" in a stereotypical country twang ... like an old Hank Thompson style.

So, I tried to write these lyrics:

(Don't) Take Me Back to Tulsa


Don't take me back to Tulsa,
'Cuz I don't wanna go.
I left T-town so far behind
Such a long long time ago.

There's nothing for me in Tulsa,
That place is a godless pit,
The only good thing in Tulsa
I took with me when I split.

Yeah my kids were born in Tulsa,
That's the best that I can say,
The sun shines brightest in Tulsa,
The day you make your getaway,

Yeah, the day you get away!




MR
2014-0629, updated and edited 2020-0814

Overheard at Booth 3: Tent Revival Album

Idea for album.

Set at a tent revival.
small town.
1930s.

can engage different musical styles of the time: blues, country, folk, the remains of minstrelsy, the jazz of the 1920s

The songs will be a linked story-line - focus on each song one character, or multiple characters, who show up in other songs.




sources: DC Talk's "Jesus Freak (reprise)", Tom Russell's Hotwalker

Written in Booth 4: new song tentatively titled "Front Porch"

Front Porch

Sitting out
on my front porch
Thinking 'bout
carrying this torch
Now you're gone
You've moved away
Sun's going down
Skies are grey

Laying back
in my rocking chair
Smell of your weed
In the air
Yeah smoking the last
joint I found
Thinking of you
heading out of town.

You're in his car,
bare foot on the dash
Sure hope he don't
run out of cash
'cuz if he does
you'll take the wheel
& go looking for
new hearts to steal.

[solo]

I'm looking out
on my front lawn
Just a patch of grass
but at least it's home
Feel the breeze
in my hair
Smell your weed
in the air

The smell of your weed
 - fading now -
In the air.


MR
2019-0502

Overread at Table 1: Kitten High

Lyrics to a new song, forthcoming from the Americana duo, S and M:

(Don’t Get the) Kitten High

C

You can smoke a joint

     G

Or you can huff a bong

F

You can blaze a session

C

All night long

You can call it “wasted”

Or you can call it “fried”

But whatever you call it,

Don’t get the kitten high.

Don’t get the kitten high, my dear

Don’t get the kitten high,

It’s a sad sad thing to do,

To get the kitten high.

You can chug a mug of beer

Or shoot tequila shots

You can slam back vodka

Till your brains just turn to rot

Blaze through Gray’s Anatomy

While sipping rum and coke

But getting kittens high, my dear,

That really is no joke.

Don’t get the kitten high, my dear

Don’t get the kitten high,

It’s a mad mad thing to do,

To get the kitten high.

On the Marrakesh Express

You ride the midnight coaches

Be always sure to never forget

To HIDE THE ROACHES!

But while tripping through dreamland

Where life is just a sigh,

No matter what your visions are

Don’t get the kitten high

Don’t get the kitten high, my dear

Don’t get the kitten high,

It’s a bad bad thing to do,

To get the kitten high.

[spoken]

‘Cuz kittens are innocent!

They’re light and fluffy and playful,

And it’s really a shame to see them stumbling around

Just because you and your dopehead ignorant idiot moron

Stinkwad useless sacks of dimebags think it’s a cool idea.

But it’s not.

So,

Don’t get the kitten high, my dear

Don’t get the kitten high,

It’s a bad bad thing to do,

To get the kitten high.

MR 2016-0726

Overread at the Counter: POD - Down to the Gulf of Mexico

Down to the Gulf of Mexico

I rode my horse

I rode my horse

Down to the Gulf of Mexico

I rode my horse

I rode my horse

Out onto the Gulf of Mexico

Then my horse

Then my horse

Said, “I can’t walk on water, you know.”

Then my horse

With me, of course,

Sank in the Gulf of Mexico

¡HEY!

This is a ska-country-punk-core song.  Shredding the upbeat.   It will probably clock at about 25-30 seconds long.

MR

2016-0128

Up on the Vid Screen, playing across the room

A most absolutely casi perfecto version of "The Twa Corbies" - it's amazing this thing doesn't have a million listens . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_lXdH-LDqqY\

(the pic may not link, but the link should link.

Sorry for any technical difficulties . . . but definitely search for " Twa Corbies" by George Harvey and Grant Foster - this version has the most haunting aura that perfectly suits this song)

a scroll left on the counter

On one long roll of paper, much like the Kerouackian style of novel writing.   

We think the poet, MR, had just come in some time when nobody was looking an just left it on the counter, because he was tired of being bugged about working so slow.

Still, though, he's not even out of January yet on his little poetry project.   Lame.


Songs for Poems of the Day

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2013-0114

 

Song:

Slaid Cleaves

Broke Down

 

Poem:

Windowsill, half-cracked open, and outside:the big’ol 18 wheelers

rolling, rolling by, criss-crossing all of America, interconnecting at

this focal point: a motel room with a broken AC and a bed of crumpled sheets.

 

 

(NOTE:  A cover of this song is the final track on the S and M CD "Sod the Mocker")

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

2013-0115

Marisa Monte

Ensaboa

 

Poem:

a touch of mold on the bottom of the shower curtain

froth-tinged water flows through the cracks in the tile to the drain,

a hand, not her own, smooths a bar of soap down her infinite valley.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

2013-0116

Ray Charles

I Got a Woman

 

Poem:

A plaid apron, now tossed against the corner of the kitchen,

the screen door latch hooked neatly inside the circulet,

Potatoes left boiling in the forgotten cooking pot.

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

2013-0117

Song:

Gordon Lightfoot

Carefree Highway

 

Poem:

She opens her eyes but the laundry is still there, stillwarm and

lumped in clumps and heaps upon the table,

She looks out the window, watches as the trees scatter their shadows across the lawn.

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2013-0117

Zero 7

Give It Away

 

Poem:

night.

Rainslicked streets.

Lights from dim houses like moonlight sprinkled through treeleaves.

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2013-0118

Song:

Miram Makeba

Unhome

 

Poem:

anathema is a word that you would never use

to describe the snippets of your dreams, or

All the hope that spills out the sides of your fisted ruins

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

2013-0118

Song:

Bob Dylan

Shooting Star

 

Poem:

Ages and ages ago, we used to dance barefoot through fourths of July

with sparklers in our hands and older brothers shooting each other with

roman candles as the laughter of our parents fades into the distance. 

 

(Note: S and M have also covered this song as well, but it has yet to be slated for a forthcoming album)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

2013-0119

Song:

Al di Meola

Perpetual Emotion

 

Poem:

plucked strings in harmonious intercession, vibrations at 90-degree

arc, circumlocuted and cross-hatched, concentric and convexed;

you can see images of all peoples of the earth in each tapped note.

 

(NOTE: Verble has taken down this poem and transcribed it onto a napkin that he will paste into his scrapbook entitled "Zen and the Art of the Acoustic Guitar")

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

2013-0120

Song:

Darol Anger and the American Fiddle Ensemble

Andre de Sabato Nuovo

 

Poem:

Autumn in New England, driving upstate New York

the trees explode in their last annual glory, spilling

all their colors across the glass of your passenger window

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

2013-0121

Song:

U2

MLK/Beat on the Brat

 

Poem:

Ripped up vans on the streets of new york

boots on the wet streets of Dublin

fists once were raised in the air, against

 

the backdrop of sootwhite smoke belched from factories,

hideous and hated when they still fumed,

and achingly missed when finally stilled.

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

the wonderful Iris Dement . . .

This is Iris Dement with Emmylou Harris performing on the small stage of the Zen and Tao Acoustic Cafe . . . we generally have it decorated like a living room to give it a more homey feeling.

If my wife would let me, I'd build what looks like a rickety porch off the side of the cafe . . . but she says that's just TOO darn cheesy.

Anyway, enjoy the song . . . it'll break your heart.   So hold on to your lover.

Neil Young "Pocahantas"

Neil Young at the Zen and Tao Acoustic Cafe.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=0ihBRiHTaMQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=0ihBRiHTaMQ

Yeah, I know what it says.   It says WTTW from 1992.    But anywhere acoustic music is played, it's played at the Zen and Tao Acoustic Cafe. 

That's the miracle of Acoustic Zen Guitar.



By the way . . . I like to sleep with Pocahantas as well.   In the homeland I've never seen.

Overread at Table 1: Ballad "Hiram Hibbard"

Interested I was in the version by Among the Oak and Ash, I wanted to know more about the ballad "Hiram Hibbard."  Can't really find much of anything online, except that it was also done by Bob Dylan in 1963, with some different verses.

The more detailed is a blog post (link http://mbmonday.blogspot.com/2012/05/hiram-hubbard-hiram-hubbert.html#!/2012/05/hiram-hubbard-hiram-hubbert.html)

That has some good historical narrative of the song.  Apparently it dates back to the Civil War, but I really still prefer the treatment by Among the Oak and Ash, who make the song sound like a lynching.  The way I interpret it, this is not so much a murder ballad as a treastise on post Civil WAr race relations in America, as well as the ability to administer immediate so-called "justice" which often amounted to community-endorsed murder based on fabricated evidence, if they even bothered with evidence at all.

I'll need to research further, to find out more.

I think the Americana duo S and M are planning to cover this one for a future album.

Overheard at Table 2: Hallelujah

The song "Hallelujah" - beautiful song.  For my money it's the only decent song Leonard Cohen ever wrote.  God I hate Leonard Cohen.  What a putz.  Never had an inkling of the talent of any of his contemporaries.  But I digress:  "Hallelujah" is simply a beautiful song.

Most people like Jeff Buckley's version, but that kind of throws me, too.   Jeff Buckley is one of those artists who died too young, meaning he died before his star faded - actually before it completely rose.  So, when you're in that rising star phase, and you die, then you're left with a small but hard core pack of devoted fans who think you are the absolute most perfect artist ever and nobody will ever come close.   So there are people who believe his version of "Hallelujah" is the final word.

Me, I heard the song first on the Shrek soundtrack.  Yes, that's right, the Shrek soundtrack, it was Rufus Wainwright's version, and mind you I'm not much for Rufus' total flame-y Liberace approach to songs, but this one he nailed the total emotion of the song, this complete biblical soul-tearing angst about what we can do to each other in relationships, how we can just tear the other person's heart out, and drive a nail through it, wow!  Wainwright's version is the absolute tops for this song.  Voice perfect, piano perfect, mood perfect.

Here are the lyrics, but they really don't do it justice.  This is a song that's got some great lines, a little syrupy on the poetic angle, but it's the performance that really brings it all together.


I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It’s not a cry you can hear at night
It’s not somebody who has seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well, really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah


Then for you chordies out there, I've found someone's transcription:

Standard Tuning

Intro: C Am C Am

  C                 Am
I heard there was a secret chord
     C                   Am
That David played and it pleased the lord
    F                G               C        G
But you don't really care for music, do you?
        C                  F           G
Well it goes like this the fourth, the fifth
    Am                 F
The minor fall and the major lift
    G            Em             Am
The baffled king composing hallelujah

Chorus:

     F           Am          F           C    G   C
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-u-u-u-jah ....

          C                        Am
Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
    C               Am
You saw her bathing on the roof
    F              G             C            G
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
C                   F       G
She tied you to her kitchen chair
    Am                        F
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
    G                  Em            Am
And from your lips she drew the hallelujah


     F           Am          F           C    G   C
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-u-u-u-jah ....

C              Am
Baby I've been here before
     C                       Am
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor
  F             G             C          G
I used to live alone before I knew you
C                          F      G
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
    Am                    F
But love is not a victory march
       G               Em          Am
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

     F           Am          F           C    G   C
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-u-u-u-jah ....

     C                         Am
Well there was a time when you let me know
       C            Am
What's really going on below
    F             G               C        G
But now you never show that to me do you
      C             F        G
But remember when I moved in you
        Am            F
And the holy dove was moving too
    G               Em            Am
And every breath we drew was hallelujah

      C               Am
Well, maybe there's a god above
    C             Am
But all I've ever learned from love
    F                G           C          G
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
     C                  F       G
It's not a cry that you hear at night
     Am                 F
It's not somebody who's seen the light
       G               Em          Am
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
  
     F           Am          F           C    G   C
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-u-u-u-jah ....


And some links to vids:   Buckley's version
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8AWFf7EAc4

And here is Wainwright's version
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kB67HO8tkQs

and finally, Cohen's version
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3Fkuq5Lf0Q

Overread at the Counter: From the Vagrancy and Poor Relief Act of 1572

All fencers, bearwards, common players in interludes and minstrels, not belonging to any baron of the realm or towards any other honourable personage of greater degree ... which ... shall wander abroad and have not license of two justices of the peace ... shall be judged rogues, vagabonds and sturdy beggars.
-- The Vagrancy and Poor Relief Act of 1572

Found this on a website called SCA Minstrel Homepage located here:

http://www.pbm.com/~lindahl/minstrel.html

Looks like a page where they collect and present old English and Scottish ballads.  God bless 'em!   Doing the good work that I would love to do but am so too lazy to do.  

But the phrase above, from what appears to be a dissertation of some sort, is a wonderful wonderful summary of the times (at least, of my somewhat romantic notion of the times) - we think of the Middle Ages as either knights and maidens running around doing heroic things or else we think of dark dungeons where evil slaves to the Church study ways of driving nails into Jewish scrotums, but really the times were just like our times - a bunch of people making laws upon laws to try to stem the problem of traffic and commerce!

This phrase is obviously all about funneling the "alternative worker" (who is not a prositute) into recordable (and thus taxable) service, and at the same time trying to ensure that the commercial lanes are cleared of traffic.

This is the SAME type of law just passed in cities like Portland Oregon that make panhandlers move back off the sidewalk and into the doorways.    That law is designed to help the tourists get to the shops so they won't have to step over the bodies, and thus be forced to see a real part of Americana.

Same law, 500 years ago.   Fascinating!

Plus the fact what I really love is it lawfully defines musicians as ruffians.  And we think rock and rollers and hip hop artists are badapples!   Man, these guys 500 years ago were rocking the house and fightin' the powers that BE . . . or, whether, the powers that WUZ BE.








[side note: The above quote, and a link to the entire paper, is also found as the storyboard backing to "Ode to My Guitar" on Warren Peace, the 2011 album by the alternative Americana duo S and M.