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20th Anniversary Edition
Ten songs recorded and released on CD in 2003. The original studio master was lost in a fire. The tracks on this CD were remastered from original cassette tape demos.
Coming soon to a streaming service near you. Please stay tuned. Scroll down for track list, lyrics, credits, audio and more.
Silent and clear and crystalline
Within a chrysalis of ice and time,
The clock of December sleeping,
Locked in the season of long night.
And the cold light is fading,
The earth is shorn,
And something lies waiting
To be born,
Falling down the light path
To the winter solstice.
Kindle fire against the dark
From the striking and the spark,
And the hills become a hearth
For the burning of the stars.
The stars circling the mystery
Sweet symmetry they bring.
And though the air is sharp and stings,
Lo, in the hair harp it sings.
And it rings in the morning’s
Clear light:
Remember what’s born here
Must die,
Climbing up the light path
To the fires of Easter.
My love is a dancer
And he dances with me
Every night in the dark, oh,
What a dancer he’s made me.
And I love him so dearly,
It’s astounding to me,
For he is but a dancer
And I’m but a lady.
Oh my love is a mover
And he sings with his hands,
And the joy that he brings, oh,
It’s so deeply he moves me.
And I praise with my body
When I join in the dance,
And it’s mystic and wondrous
The way that he loves me.
This lady’s a singer
And she dances with words,
And I play on the strings and
On the woodwinds within me.
And he thinks that it’s magic
Like the winging of birds,
But his smiles are more magic yet.
Lord, how they win me!
Oh my love is a dancer
And he dances with me
Every night in the dark, oh,
What a dancer he’s made me.
And I love him so dearly,
It’s astounding to me,
For he is but a dancer
And I’m but a lady,
I’m but a lady.
Soft spider webs hold the living until they’re the dead.
I can get tangled in something that somebody said.
And I take it and hold on till it’s holding me
In the silken strangle of a strong fantasy.
Do it once, do it twice, and the mind knows the dance
And moves to it at every change, every chance.
I love your patterns, come tangle me into your days.
O you destruction, you’ve broken the jars of my ways.
And I’m shattered and scattered in sweetness and pain
And come alive like I was born here again.
When I fly to the shelter of the old ways to die,
You turn to leave me, and I understand why.
Fools blindly follow their fathers or the lines in their hand.
Planes holding patterns can circle and circle and not land.
And the choice that I face makes me laugh, makes me weep
For the time before me and the time lost in sleep.
I can be holding patterns or be holding you
In my arms tonight, yes, that’s the right thing to do.
I can be holding patterns or be holding you
In my arms tonight, yes, that’s the right thing to do.
The moon and the rolling sea take a hold of me. And moving, I come to grief on your barrier reef.
And all that rides on the swells is torn by your coral and shells.
Oh I would not love you now, but you showed me how. So why, after choosing me, are you refusing me?
But oh, you gentle man, how can you help me understand when you don’t understand yourself?
There are so many parts of us that are not named.
Don’t be ashamed to let them be. Of all the fears I have that cripple me, the worst must be the fear of me.
This time I’m not afraid of the love we’ve made. Sometimes I know I crash and burn, but I’m willing, I’m willing to learn.
But oh, the woe and the waste! How can I show you passion’s face when you don’t want to face yourself?
And oh, you measuring man. How can I make you understand when I don’t understand myself?
The moon and the rolling sea took a hold of me. And moving, I came to grief on your barrier reef.
Hungarian love songs played on strings
In a restaurant in New York;
I sit beside him, talking savoir faire
And wearing hair
From a magazine’s
Paper dreams.
And he’s needful
And I’m graceful,
And then he’s grateful
And then I’m gone.
Back to paperbacks and broken things
In a rented house near a bank,
Dealing daily with the flesh and the blood
And the certainty
Of uncertainty
In a man.
And I’m needful
And he’s graceful,
And then I’m grateful
And then he’s gone.
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
Isn’t it funny
How everybody’s after glory,
Glory, easy glory.
Everybody wants a story.
I want to read me in the news.
I always write my own reviews.
I want to be united
Without paying the union dues.
But love isn’t free.
Fantasy feels free, but it can cost you dearly.
Buyer, beware,
Better take care that you see your purchase clearly.
And better believe
In things that won’t leave
You longing for lost
Hungarian love songs.
For there are love songs lined on your face
And dreams I cannot give.
I stay beside you and I pray for grace
Like a scalpel blade
To cut this waste
While we still live.
For we’re needful
And we’re graceful,
And then we’re grateful
And then we’re gone.
We’re all needful
And we’re graceful,
And then we’re grateful
And then we’re gone.
Angela Little, she watches her inches,
she dances alone, been divorced for two years.
And then one evening, while doing her situps,
she breaks into sudden, mysterious tears.
Angela Little, I can’t even touch you,
I’ve been in your country but not in your skin.
Living with or without him, the answer is right,
it’s the question that’s wrong and that’s where you begin,
that’s where you begin.
Leaving, leaving,
everyone’s leaving.
We’re all in shipping
and no one’s receiving.
Leaving, leaving,
everyone’s leaving,
and no one’s arriving alive.
Wesley and Freida, they thought they were happy.
They said it a lot to themselves and their friends.
But saying’s not feeling, they feel something lacking,
and suddenly what they call happiness ends.
Wesley and Freida, you can’t have each other,
for all of your loving and all you’ve been through.
Living happy or not, the solution is right,
it’s the problem that’s wrong and the problem’s in you,
the problem’s in you.
Leaving, leaving,
everyone’s leaving.
We’re all in shipping
and no one’s receiving.
Leaving, leaving,
everyone’s leaving,
and no one’s arriving alive.
Oh here’s to us all and our friends and our cousins
who live on the edges of broken gold rings.
What matter to say that love matters or doesn’t
as long as we do the same stupid old things,
the same stupid old things.
When everything’s shaking, there’s nothing to hold to.
Just wait for the breakthrough and find your way home.
Living right, living wrong, we are all on the same road.
In love and in loneliness, no one’s alone,
No one’s alone.
Leaving, leaving,
everyone’s leaving.
If we’re together,
then why all the grieving?
Leaving, leaving,
all of us leaving.
And always arriving alive.
Always arriving alive.
The cold winds meet with the warm,
The gathering of the storm.
And earth waits calm for the fury,
Release from the dry and the dreary.
The Healing Angel stirred Bethesda’s pool.
Destroying Angel, stir me, stern, not cruel.
For now I’m hollow and numb
And beaten like a drum.
This sound no music is making,
Just time from emptiness taking.
O Healing Angel’s waters, give me life.
Destroying Angel, cleave me with your knife.
If living’s dead to me, then,
Dying, I might live again
And kill the nightshade within me.
Death Angel, wrestle and win me.
And Healing Angel, wake me from my sleep.
Destroying Angel, wield your scythe and reap.
As with the ground and the grain,
These cycles on me have lain.
The seed must die with the planting
To grow by earth’s green granting.
Destroying Angel is dancing.
August afternoon is simmering,
Objects in the distance shimmering
Through the haze
Of the heat in waves.
Someone,
Sing to me of things transcending me.
I’m afraid I’ll die
Of the smallness of my concerns
And how little I’ve learned
And my backward turns.
From the child, I run, unknowingly,
To the woman, heavy, moving slowly,
Come to know that after Solstice
Each gold summer day
Takes more light away,
Takes more light away.
Kick the can and watch it dancing down,
Silvering the summer dusk
With a thin sound,
Tripping tin sound.
Tell me,
Who am I to think that what I need
Turns the wheel and brings the weal
Of the world to me
When it’s blissfully
Unconcerned with me?
But I strut my part importantly
Like I’m in a movie, moving slowly.
Summer games give way to autumn rains,
Winter to pain
Of the bitter wane,
The bitter wane.
Oh they neither toil nor spin,
excepting maybe in the air
on the water when the weather is fair.
But you, you love the struggle and the sin.
The hammer in your hand and the sweat in your hair
and the concept that life isn’t fair.
So I’m running away to the dolphins.
If I oil my skin,
will they let me in?
And so what have we got to show?
Overrated brains and underrated tears
after two million years.
Buildings never make me leap for joy in the sun.
The scheme’s the thing, get yourself another one
when the thing is done.
So I’m sending this song to the dolphins.
Do they think I’m cute?
It’s all right if they do.
Oh they neither toil nor spin.
They only fell down to the sea
and the bondage of its harmony.
But oh, we chose the struggle and the sin.
The hard, hard wisdom and the golden slavery
to our concept of being free.
Well, you tell me I am what I do.
It’s not sufficient just to be,
but I wish it could be that way with me.
And so I write this song for you.
That and swimming always were the best times for me
as I walk in my landlocked sea.
But I’m listening still to the dolphins.
My feet have the ground,
but my ears have the sound.
My ears have the sound.
You found me in the worst place.
You reached out from the first day,
And you held me above water
Till I could see
The way.
You gave me myself again,
Turned and then took yourself away.
I heard someone say
You could use a friend,
You’d lost your way.
And I’ll find you in your worst place.
I’ll touch you with your own grace,
And I’ll help you see
All that you can be,
All that you are
To me.
I’ll find you found me I’ll find you found me
And I’ll find you.
The original 2003 CD is currently out of print. A limited number of 20th Anniversary Edition CD's are available for purchase. Please visit the Contact Page for details — or just to say hello. We'll get back to you promptly.