ON THE OCEAN'S FLOOR

"And those who loved the sea
found her mercy
And those who sought whale's oil
Found it on the ocean's floor"

You arrived in the world
Not by the light of its sun
But by the flame of whale's oil
Before the dawn you were born
And the man who butchered the beast
And the man who threw the harpoon
And who hauled him aboard piece by piece
They were all there in the room

Those men who sought the whales
Not the men who sought the waves

Oh the moon waned and waxed
Two hundred times since your birth
'til you followed the tides on their path
to show all the world what you're worth
and the man who measured the depths
and the man who charted the winds
they were by your side when the storm hit
and with you when you cursed those men

Those men who sought the whales
Not the men who sought the waves

"And those who loved the sea
found her mercy
And those who sought whale's oil
Found it on the ocean's floor"

RECYCLING SONG

My arms are made from used paper towel rolls
My heart's made of orange peels
Four weeks old

My eyes they come from a mule that did haul
Coal from the mine in my own backyard
He died when his lungs became clogged with black dust
His meat went to the dogs and the rest went to us
My eyes went blind
They weren't accustomed to the light

My arms are made from used paper towel rolls
My heart's made of orange peels
Four weeks old

My ears come from a dog put to sleep
Because he could not stand on his own four feet
But in his final hour he heard his master's voice clear
When she said goodbye and put down his last meal
And now it is you that I hear with these ears

My arms are made from used paper towel rolls
My heart's made of orange peels
Four weeks old


VOICE OF THE SAINT

I sense fear in
The voice of the saint that lies with me
He fears poison
That took his translator away

But I have no fear because I have nothing to say

I see love in
The work of the sailor that rides with me
In rough waters he patches the barrels that start to leak

But I have no love because I have nothing to save

I have no fear because I have a wealth of days

I AWOKE A CHILD

I awoke a child
I awoke as a child
Sometime in my sleep
I lost my last fifteen years or so
when I awoke a child

So I picked up my guitar
I strummed my guitar
That's all I could do
Only strum as I used to when
I played as a child

So I went to your room
I went up to your room
To sing to you my news
To hear you refuse to believe
that I awoke a child

But you were a child too
You awoke a child too
Your body was the same
The change was in your brain
When you awoke a child



DIRTY & ALONE

I recall dusk fell
On my long walk to your dark house
Through the night air I moved
Toward your dark neighborhood
Your neighbors, the trees
Stole the moon's light from me
And the dust from the ruts in the road
Coated me

When I arrived
You did not ask
Were your brown clothes
Ever bright white

I arrived in need with no place to retreat
My knock on your worn door
Echoed down your street
It's lock was rusted through and refused your old key
You told me to keep 'til I needed relief

When I arrived
You did not ask
Were your brown clothes
Ever bright white

I was worn down when I turned back towards town
In my brown clothes once as bright as white snow

When I arrived
You were not home
So I returned to the road
Dirty and alone

CAPE TRYON

There's a high point up ahead where
The drop could defeat a man's little body
When treading cross some have slipped down
We will step safe with certainty
And watch as stone shelves collapse so nearby
Then splash in the waved

And how I love to see cliffs crumbling
And throwing just themselves
Into the sea

Travelling in any boat with bow pointed north
Viewing the coast, it all looks the same
But oh how seasick eyes will welcome the rise
The point that proclaims
'You're here, welcome back!'

And how I love to see cliffs crumbling
And throwing just themselves
Into the sea

And how I love to see cliffs crumbling
And throwing just themselves
Into the sea

OUR HUMBLE CROSS

I was not there when the arsonist's flame
Burned our little church
But I was blamed
For the tragic loss
of our humble cross
That topped our white steeple and was seen from afar

I am sorry
But I have no hate in me
To take down what stood and held our prayers for the last two centuries

Remember our dim sanctuary
On its final Christmas Eve
Each grasping a candle tight
Singing in their candle's light
And in its final February
The coldest night of the year
How some spray from the fire hose
Found the branches of our trees and froze

I am sorry
But I love the ice on our trees
Above what had stood and held our prayers for the last two centuries
Where my great-grandfather
Found my great-grandmother
And where as an infant I once felt
The sprinkle of water

THE BRUSH

God formed from the ape
A beast that could sing
Just for joy or to call
On the invisible being
With his mouth full of dirt
One managed to say
When God had to shout
He picked up the clay

The clay, the clay, the clay

God stayed up all night
To complete the next day
To paint starry skies
An impossible gray
He topped his last work
But not by that much
When God shut his mouth
He picked up the brush

The brush, the brush, the brush