Song Lyrics for all albums

Solo Album, Released 1/23/16

EP of cowrites, released 3/30/18, Kristina Jacobsen & Meredith Wilder; photo by Jesse Raine Littlebird

Song Lyrics to "House on Swallow Street" (all songs copyrighted and registered with BMI
and SIAE, 2021)

“Terra po Approdare” (Kristina Jacobsen & Franzisca Manca)

~Place written: Santu Lussurgiu, Sardinia~

Sardinian (Logudorese):

M’intenno unu pische fora de s’abba
Crico s’ària po bìvere
Iseto chi su dolore lasset su logu a sa cuntentesa

In custa ‘omo non m’intenno sola
Ogna preda contat istòria de su passadu

Abàido su ‘olu de sas rùnnines
Deu puru m’intenno una migrante coment’issas
In crica de una terra po aprodare

In custa ‘omo non m’intenno sola
Ogna preda contat istòria de su passadu

Una ‘omo po esser cuntenta
Fintzas si su coro ispetat semper

Ogna die mi regalat iscopertas noas
in terra anzena.

In custa ‘omo non m’intenno sola
Ogna preda contat istòria de su passadu (2x)

English Translation:

I feel like a fish out of water
Gasping for air to breathe
I wait for pain to give way to joy

But In this home, I don’t feel alone
Every stone tells a story of the past

I observe the swallows
I, too, feel like a migrant
In search of a place to land

But In this home, I don’t feel alone
Every stone tells a story of the past

Searching for a home, even if my heart is always in waiting

Every day brings me new discoveries
In a strange land

And in this home, I don’t feel alone
Every stone tells a story of the past
And in this home, I don’t feel alone
Every stone tells a story of the past

2.“These Cobblestone Streets”

Kristina Jacobsen, copyright 2019

~Place written: Santu Lussurgiu, Sardinia~
These cobblestone streets
Confound me
And I lose myself each time
I walk from A to B

Shins aching
Back slick with sweat
And learning to open my own door
With this medieval key
Triumphant victory

‘buongiorno’
e ‘dove vai’?
When you’re a full grown woman
With the language of a child

And the bureaucracy here
Drives me crazy
“non saprei” and go away
The boss is on another coffee break
cycle of appeasement with no end in sight

Buonasera
Ma lei, é Americana?
Fresca, fresca
Come mai sei venuta in Sardegna?

But there’s a map on my heart
That slowly etching
And it’ll wear its way
Into the grooves

And many years from now
I’ll look back
With the patina of nostalgia
And home is where my dog is
And that’s here

Buonasera
Ma lei, é Americana?
Fresca, fresca
Ma lei é sicura che vuole fare la residenza qua a Santu Lussurgiu?

And these cobblestone streets
Still confound me
But now I can slowly navigate from A to B

And the bureaucracy here
Still drives me crazy
But if my vicino di casa
Can navigate with grace this Bureaucratese
Then then I’ll just have to learn that language, too

Gratzias mera, Santu Lussurgiu
Gratzias mera, sa Sardigna

2.“Tiria” (feat. Matthew Papperi)

Kristina Jacobsen & Matthew “il Baro” Papperi), copyright 2017

Place written: Settimo San Pietro, Sardinia

Campidanese:

s’arruga chi mi portat a sa faci tua
Po ascurtai unu fueddu de Tiria
In su silèntziu de mangianu Su sonu cumpanzosu
Boxi chi callentat su coru

“Nabodi miu ti fatzu bi’ una cosa
Sa pudda at fatu is fillus giojosa”
ses s’arreina de custu logu chentza ’e tempus
Tempus ha la s anche al singolare (eccezione)
Chent’annos parint unu momentu

Take me back to those fields
Take me back to that mesa
Back to that wildness inside me
In the stillness of the morning
You open the door
To a place that was lost in me

Pensendi a tui no nc’est mai tristura
pensamentu est bellu in sa memòria
Su pani fatu in domu, su fragu de s’obia
Sa vida bella currit in Tiria

Take me back to those fields
Take me back to that mesa/sagebrush
Back to that wildness inside me
In the stillness of the morning
You open the door
To a place that was lost in me

A story as old as the west
Tiria to Albuquerque

Mancai asfaltant s’arruga chi arribat a crèsia
Nudda parit essi cambiau

Mancai asfaltint, tempo verbale sbagliato
chi arribat a crèsia, senza articolo

Po mei nudda est su pròpiu de candu apu connotu
Ca no fiast in su sartu a mi abetai

Take me back to those fields
Take me back to that mesa/sagebrush
Back to the wildness inside me
In the stillness of the morning
You open the door
To a place that was lost in me

In the stillness of the morning
You open the door
To a place that was lost in me

English Translation:

There’s a street that takes me to your face
It tells a story of a place called Tiria
And in the silence of the morning
I can still feel the warm sound of your voice

“Grandson,” she would say, “come with me, let’s look at this hen with her brand new chicks”
You are indeed the queen of this timeless place
Where a hundred years with you would never be enough

Take me back to those fields
Take me back to that mesa
Back to that wildness inside me
In the stillness of the morning
You open the door
To a place that was lost in me

I think about you with joy
And a full heart
Homemade bread, the smell of olives
The beautiful life you made in Tiria

Take me back to those fields
Take me back to that mesa/sagebrush
Back to that wildness inside me
In the stillness of the morning
You open the door
To a place that was lost in me

A story as old as the west
Tiria to Albuquerque

They've paved the road now that runs to the church
Nothing else much looks like it’s changed
But everything is different since I learned that you would no longer be there
waiting for me at the end of that road with open arms

Take me back to those fields
Take me back to that mesa
Back to that wildness inside me
In the stillness of the morning
You open the door
To a place that was lost in me

In the stillness of the morning
You open the door
To a place that was lost in me

4.“Sardinian Welcome” (with Sebastiano Dessanay)

Sebastiano Dessanay & Kristina Jacobsen 2020

~place written: Selargius~

Morning voices sound
heart of the village
Sun baked hearth stones
labrynth alleys

A man at the altar
Raises up the saint
Weathered face, hard life
cheeks soft with tears

(in) a world so tightly woven
Where warp nor weft leave space to breathe

what does it mean to belong, where are the lines drawn
and if I leave, will I still be welcome home?

Noon time church bells
dry his pious tears
Shared feast, appetites
Honored guest, sacred role

Convivialita’
Cannonau to wash it down
myrtle leaves, sizzling meat
Mirto to top it off

In a world so tightly woven
Where warp nor weft leave space to breathe

what does it mean to believe/when are the lines drawn
and if I leave will I be still welcome in?
what does it mean to be a man/where are the lines drawn
And when I leave what piece of me will I leave behind?

And there was dusk
And there was night
Colored costumes
Canto in Re

Organetto,
launeddas
Round dance, then
dance some more

In a world so tightly woven
Where warp nor weft leave space to breathe

what does it mean to belong, when are the lines drawn
and if I leave will I be still welcome home?
what does it mean to be a man, where are the lines drawn
And when I leave what piece of me will I leave behind?

5.“Reckoning” (with Matteo Leone)

Matteo Leone & Kristina Jacobsen, copyright 2019
~place written: Cagliari, Sardinia~

Grew up sheltered
By the sea
Home a shell that held me

Vineyards, lemons,
mandarins
But all that was soon to finish him

Greed took over
His homeland
caught in the middle of a no man’s land

Threats, blows, avarice
Grave injustice, eviction

It’s mine, it’s not mine
I’m here, but I’ll have to leave
will this house hold me, again

Now he travels
Overseas
Searches for community
(in) Memphis, Nashville,
Tennessee
Blues, backroads, southern trees

It’s mine, it’s not mine
I’m here, but I’ll have to leave
This house will hold me, again

There’s a car burning on the street
Flames climbing
smell of gasoline
It’s a reckoning
let it burn away all this greed

It’s mine, it’s not mine
I’m here, but I’ll have to leave
This house will hold me, again

6. “On a Rooftop” (feat. Giuseppe Bulla)

Giuseppe Bulla & Kristina Jacobsen, copyright 2019

~Place written: Sassari, Sardinia~

In my white stone city
It’s hot as hell
Out of breath
Climb up to the stairwell

Work follows me everywhere
But can it find me here?
On my rooftop
weightless and free

Why am I singing
What am I doing up here?
Why this need to see from afar?
Like a migrant bird passing by chance
On a rooftop, a rooftop

In my white stone city
It’s hot as hell
Mediterranean
middle of nowhere

Invite all my friends
Send them away again

There is life on this roof
And life on the moon
Reminds me there is something greater

Something shines from far away
She observes me, above the roof, above it all

Why am I singing
What am I doing up here?
Why this need to see from afar?
Like a migrant bird passing by chance
On a rooftop, on a rooftop, on a rooftop

“Santi Sardi” (Sardinian Saints)

Kristina Jacobsen, transl. Franzisca Manca

Sardinian (Logudorese)

Santu Predu
Beneighe custa ‘idda
E custu mare
Beneighe cust’òmine
Chi cricat in issu su tribàgliu
Tene cura de custu piscadore
De sa famìglia e de su corazu suu
Santu Predu

Santa Bàrbara
Beneighe sa miniera perigolosa
E sa zente chi calat aintro ‘e issa
Da serenidade a sas famìglias
Chi ogna die isetan
Cun su coro in buca
Santa Bàrbara

Santa Rita
Beneighe custa fèmina
chi s’òmine traitore
at iscutu
daddi sa paghe chi est cricanne
Daddi una manu
Po chi non perdat s’isperàntzia
Santa Rita

Santa Maria de Bonària
Beneighe custa terra de Sardigna
E sos Sardos che torran a s’ìsula nadia
E sas prantas arestes chi dda muntan
E sa limba chi faeddan
Santa Maria de Bonària

Caritá e dolcezza
Da essere angelo di pace
Ovunque vedesse discordia
Vi chiedo scusa

Caritá e dolcezza
Da essere angelo di pace
Ovunque vedesse discordia
Vi chiedo scusa
San Pietro, Santa Barbara, Santa Rita and Santa Maria de Bonaria

English Translation:

Saint Peter
Bless this village and bless this beach
Bless this man as he goes out to sea
Protect and hold him in your mercy
San Pietro

Saint Barbara
Bless this mine and bless this work
Keep them safe as they enter the earth
Protect their bodies, their families and their courage
Santa Barbara

Saint Rita
Bless this woman as she breaks free
From her abuse and searches for peace
Protect her body, her heart and sense of possibility
Santa Rita

Saint Maria di Bonaria
Bless this island and bless this place
Bless this language as she finds her way back
Protegge il suo popolo e la sua grazia selvatica
Santa Maria di Bonaria

Charity and grace
To be an angel of peace
Wherever you see discord
Sow peace
San Pietro, Santa Barbara, Santa Rita and Santa Maria di Bonaria

7.“Deu No Bollu Arrii” (I Don’t Wanna Smile)

Kristina Jacobsen, transl. Anjulu Conju

~places written: Albuquerque, New Mexico and Cagliari, Sardinia

Sardinian (Campidanese):

Fustis* postus a filera
Po sa petza chi fiant coendi
Totu pigada
De pensamentus furia* deu

E unu bèciu nd’est bessiu
Fiat stantàrgiu apalas mia
At nau:
“E arrii pagu pagu, ajò! La’ chi ses bia!”

Ma ita càuli bolit custu?
E chini dd’at biu mai?
E chini dd’at donau su permissu de mi nai
Coment’e bivi o incingiai sa faci mia?

E forsis…
Deu no bollu arrii
Nimancu essi amodada o setiosa
E ita chi deu gana no ndi tengu
De abarrai a innoi chistionendi

E ita chi imoi deu no bollu arrii?

Ascu’, nara-mì una cosa:
seu una femina
Ia a depi essi donosa po fortza
Acanta de un’òmini e in totu sighiri su connotu?

E ita chi custa dii scrabionada m’as a biri
Mancai amaciocada e impurpia
Poni-mì in sa pesa de sa sociedadi
Cali est su pesu cosa mia?

E ita chi no bollu arrii?
Chi no bollu essi bellixedda o bistia beni
E ita chi deu gana no ndi tengu
De abarrai a innoi chistionendi cun tui?

Seu forsis imbusticada
bessendi-ndi gaddinosa
Seu forsis frida, siddada
O mancai s’ègua de is seti pratzas?

Giai chi seus paris, a su mancu custa borta
Podit essi puru chi pighi custa gherra
chi parit una ciaciarrada
e fatza totu su chi potzu

E insandus…
deu no depu arrii
No depu essi bellixedda o bistia beni
E insandus deu gana no ndi tengu
De abarrai a innoi chistionendi

Ca imoi deu no depu arrii
Ca imoi deu no depu arrii

English Translation:

I was standing in line
At a Carolina barbecue joint
Lost in thought
Some heavy things on my mind

When an older man
Standing behind me says
“Smile sweetheart,
it can’t be that bad”

But how can he be so sure?
He wouldn’t know me from Adam
And what gives him the right
To tell me how to live my life or wear my face?

(and maybe…)
I don’t wanna smile
don’t wanna make nice and sit pretty
And if I feel no sense of obligation
To offer you an explanation?
Or if right now, i don’t wanna smile

What is my worth,
as a woman?
Is it to look pretty first,
And ‘stand by my man’ as Tammy said
in her famous anthem?

But what if I’ve had a bad hair day
what if I’ve gained a few pounds
Does the weight of my societal value
go accordingly down?

And what if I don’t wanna smile
What if i don’t wanna make nice and sit pretty
And if i feel no sense of obligation
To offer you an explanation?

Does that make me difficult? Am i being hysterical? Or does it make me frigid, or stuck-up, or a female dog of some colorful variation?

Well (sigh), all things being equal (which they’re not),
Maybe I’ll take this catch-22 that poses as a conversation
and do everything i can
just so…

I don’t have to smile
I don’t have to make nice and sit pretty
And so i feel no sense of obligation
To offer you an explanation
why right now I don’t wanna smile

yeah right now, i don’t wanna smile (“cheese” :)

9.“Six Seconds”
Kristina Jacobsen & Maria Blom, transl. Ignazio Cadeddu

Places written: Ben Lomond, California and Assolo, Sardinia
Sardinian (Campidanese):
Sa genti narat fai a bona
Fai is cosas cumenti si spetat
Circa ’e arri’ pagu pagu
Tira is bratzus de sa mesa

Mama mi narat
Abarra innui ses
Seidì dareta e arriba a s’ora
No nerist su chi pentzas
Puru chi ti praxat

E su domìnigu
Depis andai
Ses picioca e ddu depis fai
O mama, ma po prexeri
Seu giai cunfessada

‘cus I’m a bull ridin’
Tanya Tucker lovin’
Rodeo Queen
I grab the bull by horns
And I stand my ground
Girls you know what I mean
And when the crowd’s howlin’
And the show’s rollin’
I don’t need no rodeo clown
I take it six seconds, six seconds
Six seconds at a time
Bisti gunneddas, nudda cratzonis
s’omini sempiri cumandat su ballu
No siasta meda
conca ligera

No siasta nozenti
cua su tzugu
Pinniga ’s cambas cumenti t’ant imparau
No arriasta meda, ca no srebidi
‘cus I’m a bull ridin’
Tanya Tucker lovin’
Rodeo Queen
I grab the bull by horns
And I stand my ground
Girls you know what I mean
And when the crowd’s howlin’
And the show’s rollin’
I don’t need no rodeo clown
I take it six seconds, six seconds
Unu, dus, tresi, cutaru cincu sesi
Bull ridin’
Tanya Tucker lovin’
Rodeo Queen
I grab the bull by horns
And I stand my ground
Girls you know what I mean
And when the crowd’s howlin’
And the show’s rollin’
I don’t need no rodeo clown
I take it six seconds, six seconds
Six seconds at a time

English translation:

People say you’ve gotta behave
Do things in a suitable way
Stick a smile on your face
Don’t put your elbows on the table

Mama used to say
Don’t get out of line
Sit up straight and always be on time
Don’t look men in the eye
Even if you’re able

Come Sunday morning
you’d better be there
a girl’s got her reputation
but Mama, please understand
I’ve got my own salvation

‘Cus I’m a bull ridin’
Tanya Tucker lovin’
Rodeo Queen
I grab the bull by horns
And I stand my ground
Girls you know what I mean
And when the crowd’s howlin’
And the show’s rollin’
I don’t need no rodeo clown
I take it six seconds, six seconds
Six seconds at a time

Always wear dresses
never wear pants
Women never take the lead when they dance
And don’t wear your heart
on your pretty little sleeve

Don’t be naiive
cover your mouth
Cross your legs and make your family proud
And don’t laugh too loud
It’s unseemly

come Sunday morning
you’d better be there
a girl’s got her reputation
but Mama, please understand
I’ve got my own salvation

‘cus I’m a bull ridin’
Tanya Tucker lovin’
Rodeo Queen
I grab the bull by horns
And I stand my ground
Girls you know what I mean
And when the crowd’s howlin’
And the show’s rollin’
I don’t need no rodeo clown
I take it six seconds, six seconds
1-2-3-4-5-6

Bull ridin’
Tanya Tucker lovin’
Rodeo Queen
I grab the bull by horns
And I stand my ground
Girls you know what I mean
And when the crowd’s howlin’
And the show’s rollin’
I don’t need no rodeo clown
I take it six seconds, six seconds at a time

10.“Maison Dancer”

Kristina Jacobsen & Sonya Heller; transl. Franzisca Manca

Place written: Ben Lomond, California

Down there on the Bayou
Parish Terrebonne
Crawfish Kate’s by daylight
Maison Dancer by night

Kate the waitress sweeps the floors
and gets the place just right
Come 8 o’clock puts up her hair
turns on the dancefloor light

Nois tenimos
Sas istòrias nostras
Lassade sos pistighinzos
Fora ‘e sa ‘ianna
Ca custu sero
Nuddàteru nos importat
Fintzas chi sa manu tua
Istringhet sa mia, ce soir!

[English translation to chorus:
We all have our stories
Leave your troubles at the door
Because tonight nothing else matters
Long as my hand is in yours,
ce soir!]

In walks Charlie Deverouxe
Lookin’ mighty fine
Girls lined up to dance with him
Nineteen to ninety-nine

You’d never know the world outside
Is heartless and gray
‘Cus the dancefloor lights are always on
inside Maison Dancer!

Nois tenimos
Sas istòrias nostras
Lassade sos pistighinzos
Fora ‘e sa ‘ianna
Ca custu sero
Nuddàteru nos importat
Fintzas chi sa manu tua
Istringhet sa mia, ce soir!

11. “Semus Torrande” (We’re Going Back)

Enrico Spanu & Kristina Jacobsen, in collaboration w/ Associazione Badde Salighes

A diciotto anni, sei andato via
per laurearti
la pioggia a Londra ti rassicura
“non sei più qui”

Torni a casa una volta all'anno
nulla è cambiato
Non chiat nudda, mancu nostalgia
non sei piu li

Nato in Sardegna
dentro un recinto
Circondato dal mare, sole e silenzio
Giorni infiniti
Giusto scappare

You’re going back
To a place of rain and snow
a home you’ve made
on your own
a life you can count on

You’re going back to the scent of the English sea
Golden samphire, sea holly
Skyscrapers, people on the street

Da un po’ di tempo
nel cuore della notte
Vedi tuo nonno
Chino nel campo
E vorresti solo dirgli
“sto tornando”

Poi qualche giorno dopo
Di punto in bianco,
I tuoi occhi brillano
per quel progetto abbandonato
Perché non farlo?

E poi hai deciso
e stai tornando davvero
Nella tua isola
Che ora hai scelto
E forse è vero
che ti ha scelto lei

You’re going back
To a place of sun and sea
a home you’ll  make
on your own
a life you so much want to count on

Ses torrande a intenner
su nuscu de su mare,
carignos de luna e de entu
‘e su calore de sa domo chi aisa lassadu

E lei sarà la tua sardegna
scalza sopra questa terra
vuoi assecondare il tempo
passare dall'autunno all'inverno

semus torrande
la comunità cambia
ma è sempre un po' più bella
il centro del mondo
Nel centro di me stesso

English Translation:

You left at eighteen
To earn your degree
The rain in London reassures you
You’re no longer here

You come home once a year
Nothing’s changed
There’s nothing here, not even nostalgia
You’re no longer living there

Born in Sardinia
Like being inside a fishbowl
Surrounded by the sea, sun and silence
Endless days
It’s right to leave

And then a while ago
In the heart of the night
You see you’re grandfather
Kneeling in the field
And you want to tell him
“I’m coming home”

And a few days later
Out of the blue
You recall you’re abandoned project
Why not try it?

And now you’ve decided
And you’re returning home for real
In your island
That now you’ve chosen
Or maybe it’s true
That she’s chosen you

You’re going back to smell the scent of the sea
The caress of the moon and the wind
And the warmth of the home you left so long ago

And she will be your Sardinia
Barefoot on this earth
You’ll savor each second
Passing from autumn to winter

We’re returning (to)
The community that changes
But is always a bit more beautiful
I find the center of the world
In the center of myself…

12.[hidden track: “Carrajoru di Ruseddu,” written and recorded by Gavino Soro, Raimondo Sanna)

Songs Lyrics to "Shelter" (all songs copyrighted and registered with BMI, 2019)

1.
“Every Last Drop” (Kristina Jacobsen, copyright 2018)

~for Rosa Rantanen~
Place written: Turku, Finland, June 2018

It’s “kiitos” this, and “kiitos” that
Sea buckthorn, elderflower
Blueberry soup
and cloudberries

Midsummer night, maximize
Lean into it when you realize
a Finnish summer is short and sweet
(It’s why I’m gonna squeeze)

squeeze
Every last drop of summer
Out of this place
Gonna stay up ‘til the crease of dawn
and then some
Gonna rise two hours later and soak up the sun
‘Cus who knows when we’ll have a golden moment like this again?

We tell the tourists it’s always this way
But Scandinavia’s cold and gray
But in the heart of winter
We need to hold onto something

So we summon that day
It was warm and sweet
We need to believe this can be
To return there if only in our minds
(So we can)

squeeze
Every last drop of summer
Out of this place
Gonna stay up ‘til the crease of dawn
and then some
Gonna rise two hours later and soak up the sun
‘Cus who knows when we’ll have a golden moment like this again?

It’s the sweetest denial I know
Sippin’ lazy and long slow lattes on the canal
With seagulls all around

(that’s why we’re gonna)
squeeze
Every last drop of summer
Out of this place
Gonna stay up ‘til the crease of dawn
and then some
Gonna rise two hours later and soak up the sun
‘Cus who knows when we’ll have a golden moment like this again?
‘Cus who knows when we’ll have a golden moment) like this again?

Every last drop of summer

2. “What I Didn’t Know”

Copyright 2018, Kristina Jacobsen
~Based on a story given by Mette Halling~
~place written: Many Farms, Navajo Nation

I was a good girl
I learned to please early
Saying “yes” and always cleaning other peoples’ messes
What I didn’t know
Was all those “yesses” meant “no” for me

I finally learned to love when I gave birth to my two boys
Saw the love returned in their eyes
But my heart felt ever empty
No love left for myself

What I didn’t know
Was the difference in loving and being loved
Between holding and being held
What I never knew
Is that loving yourself is the hardest thing there is to do
What I didn’t know
I’m learning now to show

Only way I would no longer please
Was when my body disallowed me
Said “dad, there’s a lump and there’s gonna be a surgery”
And all he could say was “what about me” and who’s gonna make my coffee?

What I didn’t know
Was the difference in loving and being loved
Between holding and being held
What I never knew
Is that loving yourself is the hardest thing there is to do
What I didn’t know
I’m learning now to show

And I can travel the world
In an RV with my red shoes on
‘cus nothing bothers me, I’m free

What I now know
Is the difference in loving and being loved
Between holding and being held
What I now know
Is that loving yourself is the hardest thing to do
What I didn’t know
I’m learning now to show

What I didn’t know
I’m learning now to show

3.    “Running on Empty”
Kristina Jacobsen, copyright 2018
~place written: Albuquerque, New Mexico

Everyone has a row to hoe
Each of them wants something, hard to say no
Nothing left to give, at the end of my rope
Running on empty G

You give all you got, it’s never enough
Burn the midnight oil sunrise ‘til sunup
Behind the eight ball before the game has begun
Running on empty

Running on empty
Only fumes to spare
Or did you want those, too?
If you do, beware
‘Cus I’m a one-armed paper hanger
engine light flashing flagrant neglect
Running on empty

Gonna turn it around, recharge the machine
Gonna eat lots of veggies, gonna keep it clean
Kombucha and beet juice, detox my routine
running on empty

Running on empty
Only fumes to spare
Or did you want those, too?
If you do, beware
‘Cus I’m a one-armed paper hanger
engine light flashing flagrant neglect
Running on empty

Gonna hike up to those foothills
Gonna bake me a cardamom coffee cake
Gonna curl up on that couch
Refuse to give even one more ounce

(no more)
Running on empty
only fumes to spare
Can’t take it back
So please don’t ask
‘Cus I’m a one-armed paper hanger
engine light flashing flagrant neglect
No more running on empty
running on empty

Don’t wanna let it run dry

4. “I Don’t Wanna Smile" (Kristina Jacobsen, copyright 2018)

~place written: Albuquerque, New Mexico

I was standing in line
At a Carolina barbecue joint
Lost in thought
Some heavy things on my mind

When an older man
Standing behind me says
“Smile sweetheart,
it can’t be thatbad”

But how can he be so sure?
He wouldn’t know me from Adam
And what gives him the right
To tell me how to live my life or wear my face?

(and maybe…) I don’t wanna smile
don’t wanna make nice and sit pretty
And if I feel no sense of obligation
To offer you an explanation?
Or if right now, i don’t wanna smile

What is my worth,
as a woman?
Is it to look pretty first,
And ‘stand by my man’ as Tammy said
in her famous anthem?

But what if I’ve had a bad hair day
what if I’ve gained a few pounds
Does the weight of my societal value
go accordingly down?

And what if I don’t wanna smile
What if i don’t wanna make nice and sit pretty
And if i feel no sense of obligation
To offer you an explanation?

Does that make me difficult? Am i being hysterical? Or does it make me frigid, or stuck-up, or a female dog of some colorful variation?

Well (sigh), all things being equal (which they’re not),
Maybe I’ll take this catch-22 that poses as a conversation
and do everything i can
just so…

I don’t have to smile
I don’t have to make nice and sit pretty
And so i feel no sense of obligation
To offer you an explanation
why right now I don’t wanna smile

yeah right now, i don’t wanna smile (“cheese” :)

5.“Lucinda” (Kristina Jacobsen, copyright 2017)
Place written: Albuquerque, New Mexico

I’m just a simple person and I don’t much like change
Whether it’s my food, my music or my ride
So when things come out of left field
They shake me to my core
So let me tell you about the battle scars my truck Lucinda wore

A big old dent in her right fender
When I ran into a planter
In Hot Springs, North Caroline
Missing gaskets, springs and levers
And a camper so I could sleep in her anywhere
She was my girl

My drive with the lights off down a dirt road
Kind of girl
My road warrior, and my first truck
My KTNN listening station, music haven, my wild west
My deep rez, off-road ranching companion

And I miss her, Lucinda, Lucinda
And I miss her, Lucinda, Lucinda
I miss her, Lucinda, Lucinda
She was my kind of girl

Was 3:30 on a Sunday
on my way
to the Sunport, Sardinia-bound
A stranger’s foot slipped on the pedal
Crunch of glass to metal
Me and Lucinda were T-boned to a telephone pole
In an instant she was totaled
two rides set out to clover
and just like that a big old chunk of my life was over

And I miss her, Lucinda, Lucinda
And I miss her, Lucinda, Lucinda
I miss her, Lucinda, Lucinda
My kind of girl
Now she’s in a junkyard and they’ve carried her in
On a forklift and dropped her at my feet
Her frame is bent her insides spilling out for all to see
And Lucinda there’s medical tape covering up your seams

And there’s no time to say goodbye and he’s waiting for me
To hurry up and empty you out
So they can dismember you, and sell you piece by piece, down to Mexico

And I miss you, Lucinda, Lucinda
And I miss you, Lucinda, Lucinda

And I miss you, Lucinda, Lucinda
And I miss you, Lucinda, Lucinda
I miss you, Lucinda, Lucinda
You were my kind of girl

You were my kind of girl

6.

“Waldorf Girl” (A song for Post-Traumatic Stress)

~for Meredith, by way of explanation, and to Arielle and all survivors of Waldorf schools~

Let’s take a walk
Down Wally World lane
Where we dance round the Maypole with the Morris dancers
Round and round again

We make stone soup and maple syrup
And in September on my birthday
we all slay the dragon
and emerge, victorious

and when you leave this bubble
It’s PTSD
In fact I think I’m still recovering!

Cus I’m Waldorf child
And I’m maladjusted
I look for roses in the snow
When everybody but me knows
They don’t bloom
In wintertime!
Yeah I’m a Waldorf child (stop)

And we do eurythmy
And we think public school kids can’t paint
And we are in the world but not of it (spoken)
And only write with Schaeffer fountain pens

And teacher tells our parents
That we can’t watch TV
or listen to CDs ‘cus it pollutes our etheric minds and memories

And we sing “By the Waters of Babylon” (in a round)
And even though Sam’s mom is sleeping with Sally’s dad
We act like it’s all light and lilacs, and here we go round the mulberry bush

‘Cus we’re Waldorf kids
And we’re maladjusted
We look for roses in the snow
When everybody but us knows
They don’t bloom
In wintertime!
We’re Waldorf kids (stop)

Just the other day
Someone made a snarky comment
and for a second my Waldorf self was devastated
Then I fired back one of my own

‘Cus everybody doesn’t have
to be your best friend
it only took me a thirty years to come to that conclusion!

Cus I’m Waldorf woman
And I’m proudly maladjusted
I look for roses in the snow
When everybody but me knows
They don’t bloom
In wintertime!
Yeah I’m a Waldorf woman!

6. “In this Body” (Kristina Jacobsen, 2017)

~for all those living with invisible illnesses ~

24, when I moved to the Big Apple
Ivy League, all expenses paid
Living only in my head, left my body behind
Mind over matter if it killed me something

August 22nd2004, woke up so tired I could barely
call in to work am
Never really got back up out of that bed
Seven years later the veil lifted
When I learned body and mind are connected
(‘cus)

In this body, conflict becomes pain (in my shoulders)
In this body, the things I dread give me brain fog
In this body, a deep and unrelenting fatigue
stems from the things that overwhelm me
Body be my guide back to sanity

old when his anger first appeared
vengeful stepfather on a bender
Pain in his gut and a pressure behind his yes
But “suck it up and be a man,” if it killed him

Grew up to be an angry man
Sorry turned to anger and he lashed out at the ones he loved most
‘til many years later the veil lifted something
When he learned body and mind are connected
(‘cus)

In his body, sorrow becomes anger
In his body, anger becomes pain in his stomach
In his body, a deep and unrelenting fatigue
stems from the things that overwhelm him
Body be his guide back to serenity

And the doctors don’t know what to call it
mysterious and invisible thing that’s in our little heads
But I call it the pain of being human
Sensate and alive, living inside this skin
Never offered us much protection

In this body
hozho nahasdlii* (4x)

*May I walk in beauty (Navajo/Diné bizaad)*; used with permission.

8. “We Can’t Go Back” (Kristina Jacobsen, Camille Grey, 2017)

Place written: Many Farms, Navajo Nation

We can’t go back
but when I think about it now
I see New England fields
And two little girls lost in cornstalks

A big old oak
My dad named it the tree of life
Curled up safe in its embrace
Thinking of days to come

Vi ka’ ik’ ta’ tilbage
Til min bedstefars have
Hvor jeg altid spiste
Smaa blaa blomster

Hasselnoedder ved haek
Eventyrlig sommer idyl
Koeligt graes, frihed
Og gule hindbaer

Where can I find that sense of wonder
How can I keepmy freedom in a grownup world
Endless space and time to play
Time to feel and dream away

Banana seat bike
My best friend peddling while I steer
Scraped elbows and bruised knees
Cruising down Boardman Street

Vi ka’ ik’ ta’ tilbage
Til min bedstefars have
Men jeg savner hans stemme
Der kalder “Mille!”

Alting virked’ saa stort
Men sidst jeg var der med Mor
Blev jeg i tvivl om det var
Den samme have

Where can I find that sense of wonder
How can I keepmy freedom in a grownup world
Endless space and time to play
Time to feel and dream away

Maybe I should go herd sheep on an Arizona mesa
Maybe I should run off to the desert and write a bunch of songs

We can’t go back
But as we think about it now
There’s something that brings our two childhoods together
A lilac bushwith the hidden fort inside
Keeps the memory of magicalive inside of each of us

Now we have found that sense of wonder
Now we can keepour freedom in a grownup world
Endless space and time to play
Time to feel and dream away

9. “Medium is the Message” (Kristina Jacobsen and John Parish, copyright 2019
~with apologies to Marshall McLuhan (1964)~
Yes I could text you and it would get there faster
Message delivered, said and done
But would you see my hand on this note
smudge of coffee spilled as I wrote

Or how my cursive gets more slanted
When I’m excited about what I want to tell you

So I’d rather write you a letter
Sometimes the medium is the message

Yes driving in my truck is more efficient
And less hassle, all around
But I’d miss the smell of tamales from El Modelo
And the scent of sage on Rio Grande

And the raw humanity on 2ndstreet
Reminds me of who I mean to be

So I’d rather ride my scooter
The medium is the message

Sometimes slowing down is just the thing we need
To return to our truer, kinder selves
And no, it’s not efficient at all
But neither is a marvelous dance

The Buddhists say, “haul water and chop wood”
Pilgrims say, “Solvitur ambulando”
And after the ecstasy there’s still laundry
To hang in my back yard

So let’s sit with discomfort ‘stead of running from the pain that’s the joy of living

Yeah stay with the process sometimes it’s all we can do
The medium is the message
the medium is the message

10. “Lost in Flight”  (Kristina Jacobsen & Jason Murray, copyright 2018)

Place written: Many Farms, Navajo Nation

I’m sitting here in this airbus
37E
We’ve just come through a thunderstorm
(Now we’re) cloud-coasting and free

I’m leaving everything behind
New language, new identity
Writing my way into brand-new life
The tomorrow that could be

Above the clouds
Lost in flight
hoping for a truer life
hoping for a truerme

The stewardess is smiling
Candy eyes and ginger ale
only place I have a bird’s eye perch
On my crazy little world

Who will I become?
Will I still be me?
Does my perspective depend on a change of scenery?

It’s supper time at Tía’s house
Frijoles and cheese
A memory of that second sight
Is it as same-old as it seems?

(Because) Above the clouds
Lost in flight
hoping toward a truer life
hoping toward a truer me

Above the clouds
Lost in flight
Living for a truer life
Living for a truerme

Living for a truer life
Living for a truerme

11.“Sardinian Saints” (Kristina Jacobsen, copyright 2017)

Place written: July 2017, Buggerru, Sardinia, (Italy)

~taken from the Catholic prayer to Santa Barbara, patron saint of families and victims of domestic violence~

San Pietro
Bless this village and bless this beach
Bless this man as he goes out to sea
Protect and hold him in your mercy
San Pietro

Mmm

Santa Barbara
Bless this mine and bless this work
Keep them safe as they enter the earth
Protect their bodies, their families and their courage
Santa Barbara

Santa Rita
Bless this woman as she breaks free
From her abuse and searches for peace
Protect her body, her heart and sense of possibility
Santa Rita

Santa Maria di Bonaria
Bless this island and bless this place
Bless this language as she finds her way back
Protegge il suo popolo e la sua grazia selvatica
Santa Maria di Bonaria

Caritá e dolcezza
Da essere angelo di pace
Ovunque vedesse discordia
Vi chiedo scusa

Caritá e dolcezza
Da essere angelo di pace
Ovunque vedesse discordia
Vi chiedo scusa
C-sus San Pietro, Santa Barbara, Santa Rita and Santa Maria di Bonaria

Mmmm…….

12. “Maison Dancer” (Kristina Jacobsen & Sonya Heller, copyright 2016)

Place written: Ben Lomond, California

Down there on the Bayou
Parish Terrebonne
Crawfish Kate’s by daylight
Maison Dancer by night

Kate the waitress sweeps the floors
and gets the place just right
Come 8 o’clock puts up her hair
turns on the dancefloor light

We all have our
stories
Leave your troubles at the door
Because tonight nothing else matters
Long as my hand is in yours,
ce soir

In walks Charlie Deverouxe
Lookin’ mighty fine
Girls lined up to dance with him
Nineteen to ninety-nine

You’d never know the world outside
Is heartless and gray
‘Cus the dancefloor lights are always on inside Maison Dancer!

We all have our stories
Leave your troubles at the door
Because tonight nothing else matters
Long as my F hand is in A yours

We all have our stories
Leave your troubles at the door
Because tonight nothing else matters
Long as my hand is in yours

We all have our stories
Leave your troubles at the door
Because tonight nothing else matters
Long as my hand is in yours ce soir

13. [Hidden Track]:  Lighthouse (Fyrtárnet) (Kristina Jacobsen with Morten Kjaer, copyright 2010)

Året rundt, hver en net
Drejer Lygtehuset
Lyser op den faste jord
Speljer bølgebruset

1. Stjernene vinker mig ud af mit hus
Natten har tag i mit hjerte
Ude bag skoven hvor bølgerne bor
Taendes i natten en kerte

2. Gennem det dulmende, sitrende krat
Hører jeg havenes drone
Lyset fra tårnet på drømmenes kyst
Glimter I bøgenes krone

Året rundt, hver en net
Drejer Lygtehuset
Lyser op den faste jord
Spejler bølgebruset

3. Himlen are daekket af kulsorte skyer
Stormvejret bider af skroget
Alt hvad jeg elsked’ er sunket til bunds
Bølgerne deler nu rovet

4. Ser gennem vandråbers perlende slør
Lyset fra da jeg var lille
Drømmer o matter at staevne mod land
Vandre i lyngen så stille

//: Året rundt, hver en net
Drejer Lygtehuset
Lyser op den faste jord
Spejler bølgebruset://

Translation:
All year round, every night
The light house is turning
Lights up the firm soil
Reflects the stormy waves

The stars wave me out of my house
The night has taken hold of my heart
Out behind the forest where the waves live
A candle is lit in the night

Through the soothing, shivering bush
I hear the drone of the ocean
The light from the tower on the coast of dreams
Glistens in the crown of the beach trees

All year round, every night
The light house is turning
Lights up the firm soil
Reflects the stormy waves

The sky is covered by clouds black as coal
The storm bites the body of the boat
Everything I loved has sunk to the bottom
The waves are now sharing the booty

Seeing through water drops pearling veil
The light from when I was small
Dreaming once again of the shore
Wander in the heather so quietly

All year round, every night
The light house is turning
Lights up the firm soil
Reflects the stormy waves; repeat

Song Lyrics to "Elemental" (all songs copyrighted and registered with BMI, 2018)
~all songs written, recorded and produced by Kristina Jacobsen & Meredith Wilder

Click Here For Liner Notes for this EP

1. "Unplug Me"

I’ve heard say “You choose your own destiny”
But lately it feels like it’s been choosing me
Blue screen on my face before the sun comes up
Drinking morning coffee from an unbrewed cup

They say to be “In the world, not of it”
But I’ve been distracted for so long I can’t remember much of it
My muse is running out of patience
Someone please unplug me and allow me to breathe

Emails, messages, and texts to send
Plans to make, smiles to fake, and holes to mend
Facebook is a fickle friend, no follow through in the end
Does anyone still know how to really lend a hand? Do you?

I’ve made my choice
Won’t use my passive voice
Find a safe place, face to face with what’s behind the screen
‘Cause I’m a human being
And I can’t believe what I haven’t been able to see

Bright sun on my back, warm rays on my face
My cup floweth over where meadow sheep graze
Detach my spirit from the chaos, chores, and clocks
Gonna hike up to that mountain top and clear the silt from the spring box

They say to be “In the world, not of it”
But I’ve been distracted for so long I can’t remember much of it
My muse is running out of bandwidth
Someone please unplug me and allow me to breathe

Someone please unplug me, allow me to breathe

2. “Leave Home to Come Home”It’s been eight weeks since I left this ol’ place
Running from all my predictable ways
And what I noticed when my feet hit my home town ground
All I sought to escape still packed up in my suitcase
I spent two months traveling the world
But I still favor my right foot when I walk
I left only to come home

My eyes are still green when I look at the sky
Still tuck my hair behind my ears when i talk
My neighbor still heads out to the liquor store each night
Pat’s truck isn’t running, it’s up on blocks
And Marianne is roasting fresh chiles right on cue
Ice cream truck’s still comin’ by at 4:02
We leave only to come home

The weeds in my lawn are beyond knee high
The mailbox is starting to fill a bit
And just when I think I can pull my own weight
I put the key in the door but it doesn’t fit
And when my home is looking back at me
From the lens of another country
We leave only to come home

If you look in my eyes, you might see
Beyond cerulean
There are wild Sardinian oceans
Changing with the scenes
And when my home is looking back at me
I won’t let my comfort kill my creativity
I won’t lose the wildness that lives inside of me

It’s been eight weeks since I left this ol’ place
Running from all my predictable ways
And what I noticed when my feet hit my home town ground
All I sought to escape still packed up in my suitcase
I left only to come home
I left only to come home
I’m home

3. “Fortress”

You did a good job of hiding the elephant in the room
She’s lives out of state, how was I to know?
Across from me, fancy free in my favorite restaurant
And my empty wallet’s all i have to show?

It takes two to make a fool
And now I’m drowning in a pool
Of the rain that you have poured on my parade

You broke my heart
and it’ll make a great song!
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
And what rubs you raw, makes you live longer

Verse 2:
You’ve staked a claim in a place where you know every little thing
I accommodate for unrequited love
You won’t admit that you have no plans to let me in
I wrote this song ‘cause you’ll never be enough

It takes two to make a fool
And now I’m drowning in a pool
Of the rain that you have poured on my parade

You broke my heart
and it’ll make a great song!
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
And what rubs you raw, makes you live longer

You told me primates don’t mate for life so why should you?
But when you wake at dawn don’t you still feel a pang of loneliness?

It takes two to make a fool
And now I’m drowning in a pool
Of the rain that you have poured on my parade

You broke my heart
and it’ll make a great song!
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
And what rubs you raw, makes you live longer

You broke my heart but it made a great song!
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
And what rubs you raw, makes you live longer

I’d rather be raw
I’d rather be wounded
I’d rather be free
Than build a fortress round my heart

4.“Sunday Frame of Mind”

Just found out that I am not allowed
To be proud of all my offerings
You think your light dims
Because mine is shining

Pit in my stomach, knot in my chest
My office walls are closing in
Vision is shrinking, hope is sinking
And my Sunday frame of mind has gone missing

I walked into my day with a smile
And left it with a big ol’ frown
Is it so bad that you can’t smile back?
Do you have to bring me down with you?

Pit in my stomach, lump in my throat
My office walls are closing in
Vision is shrinking, heart is sinking
And my Sunday frame of mind has gone missing
What did that dream feel like again anyway?

When i’m mired down in this Wednesday muck
And all my accomplishments have turned to dust
I rifle through my gig bag
Reminded of all I’ve done
And I can hold on to that

Light in my eyes, sitting up straight
My office door is opening
Vision expanding, heart is grounding
My Sunday frame of mind is returning
Carry my dream close at hand everyday!!!
Let every day be (your) Sunday
Da da da da da da da da….

5.“Freedom”

How would you fight for your safety?
Have you noticed they’re fighting for theirs?
Would you leave all your possessions with strangers
To stand shoulder to shoulder for days on a dingy

There’s no food and there’s no bath
But it’s better than going back

Do you know your freedom?
How often does she stay the night?
Well, if she has to leave in the morning
She’ll leave you with a mind to find her, to find her

I came here at diez y siete
Baby on my back/tugging on my hair
Crawled through sewers, ‘cus I knew there was something better
A land of milk and honey, como puede ser?

Amputees they line the streets
Juarez, a deserted dream

I feel the wind most when cars speed by me
Knocking me down on their way to an earthly paradise
My feet won’t be going much, as fast as they’re going
And my own paradise is a hundred miles away from here

In a shelter on a cot
With styrofoam cups if hot chocolate

Have you seen my freedom?
Will you ask if she’ll stay the night
And if she has to leave come morning
Ask if she’ll leave me with a memory to find her, to find her

Freedom doesn’t come free, at least not for me

Now I don’t know about you
But I’m tired of being mansplained to
I’m looking for my voice ‘cus I’ve lost her
“She” has generations of ridicule to muddle through

Take the back seat, second place
No I don’t think I’ll let things stay this way...

6.“Elemental”

There’s a tree outside my window
Brightest red I’ve ever seen
Blood and fire and heat
Copper wire and kerosene
Winter’s coming but this is all I need
To remind me I’ll still stay warm when I am

Beside your hearth at your fireside
Fingers tingling, cup of cocoa warms me from the inside
Beneath the stars, on these early nights
My head upon on your shoulder, our mittens side by side
My sense of safety, please stay with me, as the silent snow surrounds me

Round pen’s frosted over
Curled up by the wood stove
Aspen, juniper and oak
Cedar fills my hair with smoke

Elemental, elemental, elemental, elemental
Hard day’s work, chopping wood
Aligns my heart where it should be (which is)

Beside your hearth at your fireside
Fingers tingling, cup of cocoa warms me from the inside
Beneath the stars, on these early nights
My head upon on your shoulder, our mittens side by side
My sense of safety, please stay with me, as the silent snow surrounds me

My sense of safety, please stay with me, as silent snow surrounds me

Song Lyrics to "Three Roses" (all songs copyrighted and registered with BMI)

1. "Long Returning Road" (with Janni Littlepage)

Chaffed and strong, didn’t take long
for her life and her hands to change
Apron’d waist, gentle face
fierce blue eyes of a life well worn

In the valley of her childhood
all she’s ever known
and her dreams slipped out of her fingers
On this long returning road

Was a time, schooled in music
Symphonies in her mind
Violin/hang on the mantle
Recalls days left behind

In the valley of her childhood
all she’s ever known
and her dreams slipped out of her fingers
On this long returning road

She’s never been to California
Never stood at the edge of the sea
Never held a wild rose in her hands
Never been to Paris, Tennessee

Macon Country, curtain floating, autumn breeze, rural route 9
Battered ice box, soda pops
For her grandkids, come sometimes

She’s never been to California
Never stood at the edge of the sea
Never held a wild rose in her hands
Never been to Paris, Tennessee

Na na na na, na na na na
Na na na, na na na na na na
Na na na na, na na na na
Na na na, na na na na na na

In the valley of her childhood
that’s all she’s ever known
and her dreams slipped out of her fingers
On this long returning road
On this long returning road

2. "Inez"
Inez, big smile, crooked teeth
White T-shirt, a Ranger’s watchful eye
Foster parents in Brigham City
Stolen Generation, black hair and white lies

A Latter Day Saint, but she drinks pop and whisky
She loves spam, mutton stew with neeshjizhii
A sailor’s gut, she’s as calloused as they come
Oh Inez, she’s American (she said I’m proud to be:)

Homeland Security
Fighting terror since 1492
Oh but our history
Is bittersweet
But this I know:
She said I’m proud to be a Navajo

She was born in Cameron, Arizona
Trading Post, selling Navajo rugs
Boarding School, ugly marks left upon her body
Hell, she’s bitter, but she’s also full of love (She’s the backbone of)

Homeland Security
Fighting terror since 1492
Oh but our history
Is bittersweet
But this I know:
She said I’m proud to be a Navajo

Who came first, what does that mean?
Politicians fight over who
Will defend our homeland under siege
She said: “we’ve already by doing that, for centuries”
She’s proud to be:

Homeland Security
Fighting terror since 1492
Oh but our history
Is bittersweet
But this I know:
She said I’m proud to be a Navajo

Oh but our history
Is bittersweet
But this I know:
She said I’m proud to be Diné

3. "Has-Been Cowboy" (with Arlondo Bia)

Walks with a limp
Tries to hide the gimp
From his steer wrestling days
Broke his hip, now he ain’t worth a lick
As a cowboy, anyways
So he puts down women
And brags about livin’
A life that’s tough and fine
Bulldogs Arabs and Islam
To show he’s still the man
Thinks his manhood’s on the line

He’s a has-been cowboy
Can’t wrestle steers
So he makes fun of queers
To remember when
He wasn’t a has-been cowboy

So his belly grew
And his anger, too
It had nowhere to go
Took a government job
Workin’ all week long
Took the woman to Mexico
Still he missed the rush
The adrenalin flush
Turning horns with his hands
But it’s time to move on
Time to sing another song
Use your brains, not your brawn!

He’s a has-been cowboy
Can’t wrestle steers
So he makes fun of queers
To remember when
He wasn’t a has-been cowboy

Now I know
There’s cowboys
Who love their woman right
And fight the good fight for the things we take our hats off for
But there’s nothing I hate more
Than a hypocrite who tries
to make others feel smaller
Just to make himself feel taller!

He’s a has-been cowboy
Can’t wrestle steers
So he makes fun of queers
To remember when
He wasn’t a has-been cowboy

Ride off into the sunset, cowboy...

4. "Me, My Dog, and My Guitar"
              ~for Leah~
Most weekends I sleep late
Fry some French toast, drink some tea
Play my guitar, walk my dog
Call a friend, review the week in all its glory
Commiserate, laugh, and share our stories
But come Sunday night
It’s just me, my dog and my guitar

I think of you sometimes
But you’re in a box within my mind
It’s like you’re on Mars and I’m shouting to you from Venus
Waiting for your signal of love that’s never gonna come
Can’t count on you, or anyone
So I count on me, my dog and my guitar

Sometimes I wonder
Where did love go wrong?
When did the jigsaw start to cut one life
Into two cold hearts?
Then I realize nothing I can do will ever change you
You’re a cowboy who tucks his heart inside his sleeve
Never showin’ pain, or grief or need

Most weekends I sleep late
Fry some French toast, drink some tea
Play my guitar, walk my dog
Call a friend, review the week in all its glory
Pontificate, laugh, and share our stories
But come Sunday night
It’s just me, my dog and my guitar

Yeah thank God for a dog and a guitar
Yeah I’m blessed: with a dog and a guitar

5. "Dogs and Children"
           ~for Conan~
She grew up in Piney mountains
With a mama that drank
A daddy who went MIA the second she was born
Hard times and hunger were the norm
A green-eyed dog nursed her through the worst
She learned life was expendable
When her dog got maimed just for a joke

He chased her round the kitchen with a baseball bat
She throws the baby through the window lands in the greasewood
They’re running down the highway ‘til her getaway car
Shepherds them to safety for a little while
Goes back to him the very next day
He says he shot the dog, at least they got away

Dogs and children
They’re a recipe for our own healing
They’re not a thorn in our side
They’re a window into our souls
Dogs and children
They’re not so different
From me and you
They need:
One part love and two parts compassion
And how we treat one is how we treat each other
And how we treat them is how we treat each other
Ooh ooh
Dogs and children

Her dust covered face shows up from time to time
Family gatherings, lots of food, her sons' eyes large as dimes
All dressed up in her one good shirt
She's pickin' at it to remove the dirt
A hard eyed girl became a hardened woman
She's gone numb to escape her own prison

Dogs and children
They’re a recipe for our own healing
They’re not a thorn in our side
They’re a window into our souls
Dogs and children
They’re not so different
From me and you
They need:
One part love and two parts compassion
And how we treat one is how we treat each other
And how we treat them is how we treat each other
Ooh ooh
Dogs and children

Another dog dies in her yard
Tied to a Cottonwood
A collar, fur and bones
Like her, he’s a carcass on a chain

Dogs and children
They’re not so different
From me and you
They need:
One part love and two parts compassion
And how we treat one is how we treat each other
And how we treat them is how we treat each other
Ooh ooh
Dogs and children

She grew up in Piney mountains with a mama that drank…

6. "Ms. Loretta Lynn"

Big beehive, piercing blue eyes
Miner’s daughter up from butcher holler
Hoin’ corn, haulin’ wood
Writing songs as best she could

Ms. Loretta Lynn
Sing it sassy
Sing it raw, sing it real
Sing it downright brassy
I know how you’re feelin’
But you keep right on truckin’

Doo cheats, she’s on the warpath
Goes to Fist City looking knock-down pretty
Wearin’ white stripes to Portland, Oregon
Wrinkle reduction, liposuction, still my connection is:

Ms. Loretta Lynn
Sing it sassy
Sing it raw, sing it real
Sing it how downright brassy
I know how you’re feelin’
But you keep right on truckin’

Ms. Loretta Lynn
Sing it sassy
Sing it raw, sing it real
Sing it how you feel
Ms. Loretta Lynn!

7. “Man Grown Old”

You sit here in my kitchen
You’ve been gone so long
forgot the way you always
Sip your coffee from a spoon
And skim the paper for bad news

Still in battle mode
Civilian life comes back slowly
Startled by the dump truck
No, it’s not a mortar shell
Oh my military man
When will you be deployed, again?

Old house, made new
I still remember falling for you
Our love, sweet and gentle
So hold me, like nothing’s wrong
Until you’re gone

Your old high school buddies
They stop by to say hello
Earnest but awkward, you share a few beers
But I’m the only one
Who ever sees your tears

Old house, made new
I still remember falling for you
Our love, sweet and tender
So hold me, like nothing’s wrong
Until you’re gone

Young man, growing old before his time
Wish I could take you back in time

Old house, made new
I still remember falling for you
Our love, sweet and fragile
So hold me, like nothing’s wrong

You sit here in my kitchen
You’ve been gone so long….

8. “Louisiana Hayride”

Back-stoop sittin’
Summer livin’
Hazy day, cares away
Accordion groaning
Steel guitar moaning
Fiddles twinning
And Grandpa grinning

Lousiana Hayride
Elvis’ first jive
Grand Ole Opry
with DeFord Bailey
Chicago Barn Dance
If you stood half a chance
From Bristol, Tennessee
To South Cackalacky

Vernon Dalhart
Croons into your heart
Red-haired Foley Loves you so dearly
Lefty Frizzell
He’s orn’ry as hell
Kitty and Minnie, Loretta and Dolly

Lousiana Hayride
Elvis’ first jive
Grand Ole Opry
with DeFord Bailey
Chicago Barn Dance
If you stood half a chance
From Bristol, Tennessee
To South Cackalacky

Lousiana Hayride
Elvis’ first jive
Grand Ole Opry
with DeFord Bailey
Chicago Barn Dance
If you stood half a chance
From Bristol, Tennessee
To South Cackalacky
Ooh Ooh

9. “Three Roses” (with Nicole Dillenberg)

Daddy was a Godly man
a Baptist through and through
I guess the rules did not apply
when he found someone new

Looking through the stained glass darkly
fragments all I see
As a child I wondered why
he left our family

With all those pretty souls to save
he had so much to do
but God’s up there, and we’re down here,
and Dad, I needed you

You left three roses
yellow, pink and red
came home from school
that’s when I learned you’d left
To me you hung the moon
the sunset and the dawn
But you drifted further, out of orbit
until you were gone, gone, gone.

Pink was for my sister
for Mama, a red farewell
Yellow, for his tomgirl
and that’s how our family fell

Now I’m a woman grown
with children of my own
just the other day
I called Dad on the phone
told him that my man and me
can’t see eye to eye
I’m thinking of divorce
to end a union built on lies

Dad said I’m sorry things are strained
but you need to be brave
God’s up there but we’re down here
and there’s still souls to save

He left three roses
yellow, pink and red
nine years old
my heart, how it bled
you see, he hung the moon
the sunset and the dawn
then he drifted further, out of orbit
until he was gone, gone, gone
Until he was gone, gone, gone
Until he was gone, gone, gone

10. “White Knuckles” (with Andy Goggin)

She reads Tolkien and Tolstoy
Married a good boy
She’s a true believer
Made youngest Partner
At Goldstein and Gartner
She’s an over-achiever

They say: “early to bed, and early to rise, makes a girl healthy, wealthy and wise”
But her horn of plenty turned out empty:

White knuckes
Hanging on
Grasping the familiar
Til the blood is gone
White knuckles
Won’t let go
She’s a real-life star
In a runaway rodeo

Gets pregnant at 30
Baby comes early
A beautiful boy
But she never expected
To feel disconnected
From this bundle of joy
They say: “early to bed, and early to rise, makes a girl healthy, wealthy and wise”

She picks up her baby
Holds him for awhile
As five, tiny fingers
Grasp hers, and then she smiles:

White knuckes
Hanging on
Grasping the familiar
Til the blood is gone
White knuckles
Won’t let go
She’s a real-life star
In a runaway rodeo

White knuckes
Hanging on
Grasping the familiar
Til the blood is gone
White knuckles
Won’t let go
She’s a real-life star
In a runaway rodeo

She’s a real-life star
In a runaway rodeo

11. “Six Seconds” (with Maria Blom)

People say you gotta behave
do things in a suitable way
stick a smile on your face
don’t put your elbows on the table

Mama used to say
don’t get outta line
Sit up straight and always be on time
Don’t look men in the eye
Even if you’re able

Come Sunday morning you better be there,
a girl’s got her reputation
But mama, please understand
I got my own salvation:

‘Cus I’m a bull-ridin,
Tanya Tucker-lovin’
Rodeo queen
I grab the bull by the horns
Stand my ground
Girls, you know what I mean?
And when the show’s rollin, and the crowd’s howlin’
I don’t need no rodeo clown,
I got my own sensation at 1000 lbs.
I take it 6 seconds
6 seconds
6 seconds at a time

Always wear dresses never wear pants
Women never take the lead when they dance
Don’t wear your heart on your pretty little sleeve
Don’t be naiive, cover your mouth
cross your legs and make your family proud
And don’t laugh too loud
It’s unseemly!

Come Sunday morning you better be there,
a girl’s got her reputation
But mama, please understand,
I got my own salvation:

‘Cus I’m a bull-ridin,
Tanya Tucker-lovin’
Rodeo queen
I grab the bull by the horns
Stand my ground
Girls, you know what I mean?
And when the show’s rollin, and the crowd’s howlin’
I don’t need no rodeo clown,
I got my own sensation at 1000 lbs.
I take it 6 seconds
6 seconds
1, 2, 3 4 5 6

Bull-ridin,
Tanya Tucker-lovin’
Rodeo queen
I grab the bull by the horns
Stand my ground
Girls, you know what I mean?
And when the show’s rollin, and the crowd’s howlin’
I don’t need no rodeo clown,
I got my own sensation at 1000 lbs.
I take it 6 seconds
6 seconds
6 seconds at a time ("outside")