Music

The Cowboy’s Lament

It’s Song Lyric Sunday. Today’s prompt is “to find a song about the American West, or one that mentions cowboys, a sheriff, an outlaw, horses, cactus, or tumbleweeds.“

I was raised on folk music. My father especially loved Burl Ives. In the 60s The Smothers Brothers albums entered our lives. I LOVED the Smothers Brothers. Still do. In fact, I’ve started playing them again mostly because I need something to smile about. They never fail to make me laugh.

So I’m posting below both versions of “The Cowboy’s Lament” aka “The Streets of Laredo.” I’m only posting the lyrics to the Burl Ives version. You’ll have to listen to the Smothers Brothers to hear their twisted irreverence. Their voices harmonize so beautifully – and they make me laugh. They always me laugh. Have I mentioned that they are FUNNY?

The song is the story of dying cowboy — not funny at all. It’s a lament. He’s been shot and is dying. He gives his final wishes to another cowboy. “Beat the drum slowly, play the fife lowly” etc. It’s sad.

Apparently it’s a rewrite of an Irish-British Ballad about a dying sailor. Frank Maynard, a poet and balladeer of the Old West, turned the song from “The Unfortunate Rake” into “The Dying Cowboy” and published it in 1911.

Here are the lyrics:

As I walked out in the streets of Laredo
As I walked out in Laredo one day
I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay

I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy
These words he did say as I boldly walked by
Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story
I’m shot in the breast and I know I must die

It was once in the saddle I used to go dashing
Once in the saddle I used to go gay
First down to Rosie’s and then to the card house
Got shot in the breast and I’m dying today

Get sixteen gamblers to carry my coffin
Get six jolly cowboys to sing me a song
Take me to the graveyard and lay the sod o’er me
For I’m a young cowboy and know I’ve done wrong

Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin
Get six pretty maidens to sing me a song
Take me to the valley and lay the sod o’er me
For I’m a young cowboy, and know I’ve done wrong

Oh beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly
Play the Dead March as they carry me along
Put bunches of roses all over my coffin
Put roses to deaden the clods as they fall

As I walked out in the streets of Laredo
As I walked out in Laredo one day
I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay


Here’s Burl Ives singing The Cowboy’s Lament:

And a clip of the very irreverent Smothers Brothers version:

Music

Isn’t She Lovely

Lyrics:

Isn’t she lovely
Isn’t she wonderful
Isn’t she precious
Less than one minute old

I never thought through love we’d be
Making one as lovely as she
But isn’t she lovely, made from love

Isn’t she pretty
Truly the angel’s best
Boy, I’m so happy
We have been heaven blessed

I can’t believe what God has done
Through us he’s given life to one
But isn’t she lovely, made from love

Isn’t she lovely
Life and love are the same
Life is Aisha
The meaning of her name
Londie, it could have not been done
Without you who conceived the one
That’s so very lovely, made from love, hey

Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Stevie Wonder
Isn’t She Lovely lyrics © Black Bull Music, Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC


Stevie Wonder wrote this song after holding his daughter Aisha for the first time. I opted to post the longer track which is from the album Songs in the Key of Life. (There are shorter versions available on YouTube.) It opens with a baby crying. That’s Aisha in the delivery room. It closes with audio of Stevie Wonder giving her a bath.

The lyrics speak for themselves. He is smitten with this child. It’s a feeling any new parent can identify with.


This is my submission for Song Lyric Sunday. This week, we are asked to find a song about a girl. October 11 is the International Day of the Girl Child. “It’s purpose is to recognize girls’ rights and highlight the unique challenges, discrimination, and inequalities they face globally, such as lack of education access, forced child marriage, and gender-based violence.”

Music · Life · aging

Leaves That Are Green (turn to brown)

This week for Song Lyric Sunday, our host Jim Adams challenges us to choose a song from an artist who was born in October. I was thrilled to discover that Paul Simon was born October 13, 1941.

If Paul Simon wrote the song when he was twenty-one years old, that would be in 1962. which is about right. He recorded it solo for his Paul Simon Song Book in 1965. The following year he recorded it with Art Garfunkel and it went on their album, Sounds of Silence. It was the B-side for Homeward Bound when that was released as a single.

I love this song.

I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song
I’m twenty-two now, but I won’t be for long
Time hurries on
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither with the wind
And they crumble in your hand

Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl
I held her close, but she faded in the night
Like a poem I meant to write
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither with the wind
And they crumble in your hand

I threw a pebble in a brook
And watched the ripples run away
And they never made a sound
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither with the wind
And they crumble in your hand

Hello, hello, hello, hello
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
That’s all there is
And the leaves that are green turn to brown

Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Paul Simon
Leaves That Are Green lyrics © Sony/atv Songs Llc


Growing up, growing old, changing seasons — Paul Simon captured it so well as a young man. The fact that he is still performing at the age of 84 is quite a testament.

Life · Music

Autumn Breeze

[Verse 1]
See the leaf piles scattered in the side yard
As I pull into the driveway Friday night
Happy gray squirrel gatherin’ up the acorns
While above me geese are in their flight

[Chorus]
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind

[Verse 2]
Red and yellow, orange, rust-brown
Color palette whirling ‘cross my drive
So I walk on up to the doorstep
Breathe in brisk air, happy I’m alive

[Chorus]
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind

[Bridge]
Sweet days of autumn, October full moon
Seasons are changing — I love this tune
And I move on, life moves on with me too
And I have friends who help carry me through

[Verse 3]
Dinner cookin’, chicken in the oven
Talk about the day that we’ve both had
Sharing hopes, and sharing memories
Life is changing, but it isn’t all bad

[Chorus]
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind


First, serious apologies to Seals and Croft. I stole your song and made it mine.

Second, apologies to Linda G. Hill. You asked for Stream of Consciousness writing — meaning no editing — but I confess to some. It’s just that when I saw the prompt this morning — Breeze — I had this song running through my head. Seals and Croft wrote Summer Breeze in 1972, but here, 54 years later, I have an Autumn Breeze running through my life and mind. So I looked up the lyrics to Summer Breeze and changed them.

Life · Music

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I am late to the party, but this week’s Song Lyric Sunday is to post a song that has to do with withdrawing or moving away. The song that immediately came to mind was “Leaving on a Jet Plane” — and I was quite sure that at least three other people would have already posted that song.

As of this writing, I didn’t see that anyone else had posted it.

Who knew that John Denver actually wrote the song? I grew up listening to folk music like the Kingston Trio and Peter, Paul and Mary. Peter, Paul and Mary performed the version that I best remember.

John Denver wrote it in 1966 and called it “Babe, I Hate to Go.” According to Wikipedia, he made several copies and gave it out as a Christmas present that year. At the urging of his then-producer, Milt Okun, he changed the name in 1967 to “Leaving on a Jet Plane.”

Peter, Paul and Mary picked it up in 1967 and put it on their album “Album 1700.” It was released as a single in 1969 when it became a hit.

Did I understand this song at the ripe old age of 9 or 10 when I first heard it? No.

Did I listen to it often enough that I learned and still know every single word? Yes.

Lyrics:

[Verse 1]
All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go
I’m standin’ here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin’ it’s early morn
The taxi’s waitin’, he’s blowin’ his horn
Already I’m so lonesome I could cry

[Chorus]
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go
I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

[Verse 2]
There’s so many times I’ve let you down
So many times I’ve played around
I tell you now, they don’t mean a thing
Every place I go I think of you
Every song I sing I sing for you
When I come back I’ll wear your wedding ring (I’ll wear your ring)

[Chorus]
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go
I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

Verse 3]
Now the time has come to leave you
One more time let me kiss you
Then close your eyes, I’ll be on my way
Dream about the days to come
When I won’t have to leave alone
About the time I won’t have to say (I won’t have to say)

[Chorus]
Kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go
I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

Music

Rocks and Trees and Water

I’m writing from above the clouds over Canada on my way to visit my son in British Columbia.

I had looked at the theme for Song Lyric Sunday — a song that celebrates sandy beaches — and started scouring my brain and my list of Beach Boys songs.

Can I be honest here? I’m not beachy person.

The Beach Boys song I kept going back to had nothing to do with beaches — but I knew that Brian Wilson had written the Pet Sounds album largely from his sandbox — in his living room — with his piano placed in the sandbox so he could feel the sand between his toes while he wrote. For that album, he wrote the song, “God Only Knows” with Ted Asher in less than an hour. It is my all time favorite Beach Boys song.

But the song doesn’t mention sand or beaches or anything.

And I’m in an airplane flying over Canada.

After the border crossing, while driving in Canada, some people passed in their pickup truck and made awful faces at us. Honestly, it made me laugh.

I mean, yes, I’m from New York. But Lake Ontario will be Lake Ontario to me no matter what anyone says.

And Canadians are the nicest people in the world no matter what anyone says.

So I hearkened back to an Arrogant Worms song called “Rocks and Trees.”

What is sand but ground up rocks?

And what is a beach but those ground up rocks near water?

So basically Canada is one big beach, right?

Lyrics:

My country’s bigger than most
And if asked I boast
‘Cause I’m really proud
So I shout it loud
Though our numbers are few
We will welcome you

Although we don’t have history
Gold medal winning teams
Heroes or prisoners
World famous volcanoes
Still what we’ve got’s glorious

‘Cause we’ve got
Rocks and trees
And trees and rocks
And rocks and trees
And trees and rocks
And rocks and trees
And trees and rocks
And rocks and trees
And trees and rocks
And water

All right, everyone!
We’ve got
Rocks and trees
And trees and rocks
And rocks and trees
And trees and rocks
And rocks and trees
And trees and rocks
And rocks and trees
And trees and rocks
And water

In Canada, Canada, Canada, Canada, Canada, Canada,
Ca-an-a-da, Can-a-da.
Canada, Canada, Canada, Canada, Canada, Canada,
Ca-an-a-da, Canada.


I’m going to put this here, too. It’s a song about dependency and vulnerability and the complex relationships we have with those we love most.

Besides, God only knows where we’d be without Canada — and I don’t want to find out.

Music

Self-Conscious

This week’s theme for Song Lyric Sunday is to find a song that mentions bare, birthday suit, buff, exposed, liberated, naked, naturist, nude, or skin. The song I chose — Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini — doesn’t mention any of those words, and yet I think it fits the prompt.

Bryan Hyland made it a hit in 1960. The songwriter, Paul Vance, wrote the words after watching his 2 year old daughter playing on the beach in small yellow bikini. I remember hearing the song as a kid and loving it. It made me laugh — mostly because I could relate.

The bikini debuted in 1946. If you’re interested in the history of the bikini, it’s all here on History.com: Bikini Introduced

Have I worn a bikini? Maybe yes — but it was a long time ago. Eight kids later, I don’t think I would even try. I’ll take my one-piece suit, thank you very much.

Just the other day, one of my daughters told me about being cat-called. She’s a beautiful girl so I’m not surprised. “I don’t like it,” she said. I’m not surprised at that either.

Women want to be seen for who they are — which is so much more than their body. I’m not sure going topless would change that. The Song Lyric Sunday theme was chosen because to acknowledge “Go Topless Day.” I, for one, will keep my top on and wear my one-piece swimsuit.

Lyrics:

She was afraid to come out of the locker
She was as nervous as she could be
She was afraid to come out of the locker
She was afraid that somebody would see

Two, three, four
Tell the people what she wore

It was an itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, yellow, polka dot bikini
That she wore for the first time today
An itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, yellow, polka dot bikini
So, in the locker, she wanted to stay

Two, three, four
Stick around we’ll tell you more
(Bop, bop, bop, bop, bop-op-op-op-op-op-op)

She was afraid to come out in the open (bop-op-op-op)
And so a blanket around her she wore (bop-op-op-op)
She was afraid to come out in the open (bop-op-op-op)
And so she sat, bundled up on the shore (bop-op-op-op)

Two, three, four
Tell the people what she wore

It was an itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, yellow, polka dot bikini
That she wore for the first time today
An itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, yellow, polka dot bikini
So, in the blanket, she wanted to stay

Two, three, four
Stick around we’ll tell you more
(Bop, bop, bop, bop, bop-op-op-op-op-op-op)

Now she’s afraid to come out of the water (bop-op-op-op)
And I wonder what she’s gonna do (bop-op-op-op)
Now she’s afraid to come out of the water (bop-op-op-op)
And the poor little girl’s turning blue (bop-op-op-op)

Two, three, four
Tell the people what she wore

It was an itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, yellow, polka dot bikini
That she wore for the first time today
An itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie, yellow, polka dot bikini
So, in the water, she wanted to stay

From the locker to the blanket
From the blanket to the shore
From the shore to the water
Guess there isn’t any more

Songwriters: Paul Vance / Lee Julien Pockriss

family · Music

Roamin’ in the Gloamin’

The music we hear as a child shapes us, doesn’t it? Last week, I wrote about “Night on Bald Mountain” in response to the Saturday Stream of Consciousness prompt. I can still picture the sleeve for the vinyl record we had.

This week, as soon as I saw the prompt, starts with gl–, my mind went to a song that my father used to play. He loved a Scottish tenor named Kenneth McKellar. If I close my eyes, I can still hear “Roamin’ in the Gloamin'” sung in that magnificent voice.

I remember asking my father what gloaming is. It’s evening or dusk. The song is about a fellow walking at that time of day with his sweetheart.

I think dawn and dusk ARE the prettiest times of day. There’s something about the liminal time, when it’s not quite one thing or the other, that makes it magical.

As the song says, “When the sun has gone to rest, that’s the time that we love best — Oh, it’s lovely roamin’ in the gloamin’.”

Life · Music

The Loneliness Inside

Today’s Song Lyric Sunday prompt is to choose a song that reflects different types of behavior that people exhibit.

I never read the book or saw the film “Georgy Girl” but I’ve known the song by The Seekers for what seems like my whole life.

We all wear masks, don’t we? The inspiration for the prompt is that August 16 is Authenticity Day “which encourages people to show their true personalities. It emboldens people to embrace their true selves, do things their own way, and move beyond simply conforming to expectations.”

This song speaks to that behavior, the behavior of being inauthentic because we feel the need to hide who we really are.

Hey there, Georgy girl
Swinging down the street so fancy-free
Nobody you meet could ever see the loneliness there inside you
Hey there, Georgy girl
Why do all the boys just pass you by?
Could it be you just don’t try or is it the clothes you wear?

You’re always window shopping but never stopping to buy
So shed those dowdy feathers and fly a little bit

Hey there, Georgy girl
There’s another Georgy deep inside
Bring out all the love you hide and, oh, what a change there’d be
The world would see a new Georgy girl

Hey there, Georgy girl
Dreaming of the someone you could be
Life is a reality, you can’t always run away
Don’t be so scared of changing and rearranging yourself
It’s time for jumping down from the shelf a little bit

Hey there, Georgy girl
There’s another Georgy deep inside
Bring out all the love you hide and, oh, what a change there’d be
The world would see a new Georgy girl

Wake up, Georgy girl
(Hey there, Georgy girl)
Come on, Georgy girl
(Hey there, Georgy girl)
Wake up, Georgy girl

Songwriters: Jim Dale / Tom Springfield

Music

Night on Bald Mountain

Today’s SoC prompt is Bald, Balled, Bawled. I fell asleep last night trying to think about the last time I bawled so I could write about it. When was it? I couldn’t remember.

When I sat down to write this morning, bawled was out the window and bald was in. This is what came out —


A few weeks I was in Maine. On one of the days, we hiked and reached an overlook that had one of those pictures that identified the mountains we were seeing. One of them was called Bald Mountain — and immediately I was transported to my childhood.

We had a vinyl record that I listened to often. On one side was The Sorcerer’s Apprentice – Fantasia, and, because of that, Mickey Mouse was on the album sleeve. On the other side was Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain.

I started singing Night on Bald Mountain to my friend — DAH DAH Da-Da-Da-DAH DA-DA da-da-da-DAH DAH! He looked at my like I had two heads. How does one sing a piece of classical music?

Truth be told, the Mickey Mouse side — The Sorcerer’s Apprentice was too scary for me, so I preferred the foreboding music of Bald Mountain.

And the day we were on the hike, the weather kept thinking about raining, although not a thunderstorm. Still the vista was cloudy and gave me the sense of potential storm, as on Bald Mountain.

This may or may not be the vista that identified Bald Mountain, but it was from that same day.

If you’re not familiar with the music, take a few minutes and listen to the Mussorgsky piece. Picture a little girl putting it on the record player in her room and falling asleep to it. That may explain a lot about me.