Business Unfinished (J. Purvis)
We tried a couple of versions of this tune, sometimes Dolores singing lead, sometimes me. We finally decided to go with my lead, despite its somewhat “strained” quality: it just seems to capture the desperation I wanted.
It’s a mistake to assume a writer or composer is always betraying autobiographical information; sometimes—most of the time, probably—the informational content of a lyric or story is simple fantasy. One of the more endearing traits we humans have is our ability to maintain two entirely contradictory emotions simultaneously...love and hate, as an example. This song is a travelogue of one such emotional landscape.
There are things left to be settled
Things left to be said
Things to do to get you from living rent-free in my head
Matters so complicated
Matters to be addressed
Matters to be completely purged from the agenda we once pressed
But I’m finding myself crippled
My affection’s been short-changed
I’m paralyzed by this sheer contempt filling up my brain
There was a time I loved you
And all that you held dear
But all that’s been flipped around like an image in a mirror
Now I’m always on the dark side of the world
Where the shadows suck the light
Right from the air and pure despair fills every square inch with night
And I hate that place you live in
And I hate all your friends
I hate the way your nose turns up right at the end
I hate the clothes you’re wearing
And that football team you love
And that painting you once saw in Mexico that you’re always speaking of
I hate the car you’re drivin’
And the food that you eat
But most of all I hate the fact that you’re not still with me
So now I hate those shoes you’re wearin’
And that Sumatran coffee you drink
And I hate the way you always left dishes in the sink
How you always left the bathroom door just a couple inches ajar
And the radio on and blasting whenever I would start the car
Your socks on the staircase
The gold hanging from your ear
And that perfect kissin’ spot on the back of your neck
God, how I wish you were here…
We originally did a more electric version of this, but ultimately decided to go with an acoustic version.
Again, this is a treatise on the tension the soul often maintains attempting to keep balance in the constantly shifting terrain of the real world. A Catholic convert of some thirty years, my relationship with Holy Mother Church has been anything but placid. I’m presently wagering mightily that God has a keen sense of humor.
Stuck in the parking lot of the Tavern of Love
Dad’s been slaving a couple thousand years on that dish he’s so proud of
There’re still seats available for this most ancient of cuisines
But I keep bouncin’ from one to the other extreme
Now, there’s up-close Mary and her twin sister Martha too
They’ve been starving themselves for almost a week and only the best table will do
Dad gives them a nod of approval as their chin-spit starts to gleam
And I keep bouncin’ from one to the other extreme
I keep bouncin’ from one to the other extreme
I want to sit and I want to run, fascinated by this scene
I’m just one more pole dancer in the Son of Man’s wet dream
And I keep bouncin’ from one to the other extreme
Well, it’s Thanksgiving every day of the year and I can’t wait to get home
Then I can’t wait to get out again ‘cause I really don’t belong
I’m the goat at the sheep’s watering-hole just pissin’ in their stream
And I keep bouncin’ from one to the other extreme
When the kids were little my wife Peg and I used to sing to them each night as we put them to bed, silly little made-up tunes. It became a part of every night’s routine.
When we found out our daughter Randi had cancer and we slogged through what seemed like endless days and nights waiting for lab results and diagnoses, Peg remarked that she felt like we were living in a constant “state of crazy”. I got to thinking about the fact that all we ever have is now and whether you live to be eight or eighty the key to living the best life you can is making the most of this moment…the whole “consider the lilies of the field” thing, and Peg’s phrase got coupled in my head to one of those melodies I sang to the kids when they were little and this is what came out.
A parent’s first and final instinct is to protect his or her child at all costs; but sometimes, when the night is closing in at far too great a speed to outrun, all you can do is sing.
It ain’t you, it ain’t me
It’s just the way life seems to be
Still, we shouldn’t live too cautiously in a state of crazy
The world tastes good, so take a bite
Stay up dancing naked all night
It’s never been about wrong or right in this state of crazy
You say it sucks to be you
That’s funny, ‘cause I always thought it sucked to be me, too
Maybe we need a new strategy
I’ll take care of you and you watch out for me
We’ll begin by pretending we’re both friends
BFF’s until the end
We’ll make it by fakin’ it until it fits
Isn’t that about as good as it can get?
You say you’d like to see Burning Man
I’d like to see all those films they show at Cannes
But somehow I never seem to get there
It’s all so terribly unfair
Let’s take a trip around the world
I’ll be your boy, you can be my girl
We’ll meet the newborn sun on Salisbury’s plain
Fly the bullroarers high, make love in the rain
I originally wrote this as part of a collection of tunes I was going to outsource to a female singer. When that plan was abandoned I decided to record it myself. I don’t really want to kiss a Hawaiian boy, although I do like poi…
The song speaks for itself: sometimes you just want to stick your fingers in the bandsaw. But that doesn’t mean you should.
Sometimes I wanna stick my fingers in the bandsaw
Wanna stick my fingers in the bandsaw
Wanna stick my fingers in the bandsaw
But I know it wouldn’t do no good
There’s so many times that I wanna blow it all to hell
But I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t work out all that well
All those little brains obscuring my view
I get so deranged, there’s no telling what I might do
Now I think I’ll find some bronze Hawaiian boy
To ease my mind with soft wet kisses that taste like poi
I Won’t Say A Thing (J. Purvis)
Our first version of this was heavily orchestrated with lots of instruments; but somehow it just didn’t reflect the sadness I wanted to hear. I finally decided to go with a more spare version.
To never be tempted is no remarkable thing; but to turn away from temptation can initiate whole new possibilities of self-understanding and serenity.
They all say we should be happy
Why shouldn’t that be true?
I’m just a fool for admitting
I won’t know peace ‘til I’m with you
The word will get back to the ones that love us most
Bringing all the fury hell can bring
But if you lay here beside me tonight
Darling, I won’t say a thing
I wear my heart out on my sleeve, dear
For one and all to see
And to be so reckless with my passions
Will surely be the death of me
But dying doesn’t seem so bad you know
It’s certainly not the worst I’ve endured
And if you lay here beside me tonight
Darling, I won’t say a word
It would be o so sweet
To share the very air you breathe
My lips pressed to your soft skin
Swallowed up in perfect sin
But for now let’s keep the secret
Smile and pretend we just don’t know
About this cruel distant longing
I’m so scared will start to show
I’ll hide the truth and reserve the rest
For my deepest saddest dreams
Where you lay beside me each and every night
But, darling, I won’t say a thing
Yeah; true love may be work, but it’s really great work.
Someone told me long ago you were born to break my heart
But after all this time we can’t seem to keep apart
It’s not to hard to be in love
I’ve been wondering all these years when the other shoe would fall
The straw to break the camel’s back, making a wreck of it all
It’s not to hard to be in love
They say the wetter the better
Like scars in the finest leather
We could tell war stories all night
But when the morning comes I’ll still be here
Laughing at the worst of my fears
Burning up in the dawn’s first light
You say that I’m your best friend
Been that way since way back when
We were so young and dumb and in love and just fools
Still, when that final night comes callin’
The longest shadows of all will be fallin’
One last kiss and off we go
Someone told me long ago you were meant to heal my heart
I promise you even now the gates of hell will never keep us apart
It’s not to hard to be in love
I was sitting in my office one Sunday morning with Peg in our sun room reading the paper. It’s true: it’s all been said; but that won’t stop me from saying it once more.
Sunday morning, not much happening
Not much happening at all
Second cup of coffee and it’s no great revelation
It’s just something that I’ve know all along
I love you and that’s all I’m saying
One plus one equals four somehow
Creation smiled we smiled back
Now my days are filled with God’s own music
I hear it every time I kiss your lips
A Little More Time (J. Purvis)
There is nothing more seductive than the sharing of secrets.
I lined up my ducks for the woman to see
Precise little groupings of two or three
Then I invited her in for a look
My life in bold print, an open book
But she said she needed a little more time
She just said she needed a little more time
But time is the one thing I can’t seem to find
She said she needed a little more time
If time is a jet plane then mine’s run outta fuel
The truth is ugly and the facts are cruel
But I’ve laid all down here, so what will be?
Does the future involve your legs wrapped around me?
I can’t get the smell of her off my skin
Where does she stop and where do I begin?
The lines have faded and I need to believe
Someone’s given me permission for all these lies I weave
This is the story of a man who spends his entire life seeking to know God more fully only to finally realize that everything he’d ever come to hold as ultimately true was utterly wrong. After struggling for decades to ascend the mountain of God, he reaches the summit only to find the divine throne empty (sede vacante). The question: What to do now?
The answer for this individual is make a complete leap of faith (salto morale, a play on salto mortale, the death-defying somersault done in the air by trapeze artists) and live his life as if the throne had been occupied all along. As my brother John, the scripture scholar and theologian once observed, “God is never done with his loved ones, but maneuvers us to stay in a position where faith is the only real option.” Simply, we are all condemned to perpetual agnosticism: we can never know; we can only choose.
All those dream-filled nights
Waiting for the light
That only shines on the mountain
No sense of self-control
I bared my ravaged soul
Seeking healing on the mountain
I begged with humble heart
And you ripped it apart
Sacrificed on the mountain
A slurry of blood and flesh
Bones snapped apart and crushed
Offered to you on the mountain
How dare you, carnelian on your throne,
Mock me on your mountain?
All that I asked was that I come to you
And bow down on this mountain:
Sede vacante
Never a dusk so grim
As I came down again
Betrayed on the mountain
My head spun with shock
Couldn’t think, couldn’t talk
Struck dumb on the mountain
How shall I spend my days?
What homage can I pay
To the silence on the mountain?
How shall we then live?
With nothing to forgive?
There are no sins on the mountain
It’s such a curious thing
The peace betrayal brings
Such freedom on the mountain
Now it’s all up to me
And what will my choice be?
I’ll build my home on your mountain
This is the story of how I met the love of my life...as least as I recall it.
I came into this world alone and a stranger
A heart full of pain, a heart full of fear
Humming a song given me by the angels
A song they said only one other could hear
I sang in the deepest dark of the midnight
I sang in the brightest noonday sun
I sang in the hills and I sang in the desert
I sang to each and every one
O darling don’t you see I am the one you were waiting for?
Not a one heard, not a one listened
None batted an eye or turned a head
All pushed past me, all pushed through me
Singing all their own melodies instead
I sat exhausted beneath a great oak tree
Silence my song and despair my friend
Resigned in my heart to be alone forever
When I heard my very own song on the wind
Down the lane rode a young maiden
Danger dancing in her fiery green eyes
She was singing the song I knew from my first day
She dropped from her pony and fell to my side
Her hair was the color of the fairest autumn
It tickled my nose as she offered a kiss
Her voice lilted and laughed and made me feel giddy
As she took my hands we sang together like this
I’m a big proponent of Freudian psychology, primarily because I’ve experienced its explanatory power in my own life multiple times. My dreams are often textbook caricatures of Freudian symbolism...rivers, tunnels, strangers. One night I woke up dreaming that I was attempting to live in two different locations with two different families that knew nothing of each other. This was probably around 2:00 in the morning, and I got up and wrote this song before going back to bed. It proved to be a kind of crossroads for me, artistically and spiritually.
Love like a thief will come
Breaking into the unguarded home
It steals your heart if you look away
Defenses down, hell to pay
Once I could see, but now I’m blind with foolish pride
Temptation is all around
Tickling your ear with lovely sounds
A smile, a nod, a glance, a touch
A slyly stolen kiss- never enough
A wounded heart is never satisfied and neither is foolish pride
We all promise never to go
And no man can dwell in two homes
He’ll want to cling to one, but he’ll be hated in both
But what’s done is done, and it only goes to show
There is a Truth that will not abide foolish pride
One day at a time. Progress, not perfection. Rigorous honesty. Rule 62. The Twelve-Step Recovery Culture has provided me with more practical life strategies than any other single source. I can’t recommend its wisdom too strongly. Each of us is addicted to something: twelve-stepping has real tools for dealing with it.
I’m gonna pop these pills tonight
Force out the light and ease my pain, ease my pain
My doctor’s my best friend
He knows just how to end this old refrain, this old refrain
And when the new day comes
I’ll pick myself up and start again, start again
I’m wicked all the time
The ideas in my mind could get me hung, get me hung
I’ve lost the forest for the trees
To set me twistin’ in the breeze would be a good deed done,
good deed done
Even Jesus steers clear of me
The only soul he’s promised to abandon, abandon
I’ve stolen the sinners’ bread
Fed it to the dogs outside my door, outside my door
I’ve shaved my head
Taken a vow that’ll haunt me for evermore, evermore
It’s true it’s all been said
But that won’t stop me from sayin’ it once more, once more
Really (This Time) (J. Purvis)
Again, another song about our ability to love and hate at the same time. I wrote this from the perspective of a friend whose marriage had just blown up. Lots of venom.
I only took a couple of things when I left your shack
My hand was on the plow, I wasn’t looking back
The sky looked troubled and it felt like snow
Which direction do you head when you’ve got nowhere to go?
But you say you’re in love this time
Really in love this time
I wanna be there when you find out
What the pain is all about
Cause you say you’re in love this time
Really, really in love this time
You’re gonna learn a thing or two
About the misery I’ve been through
(You’re gonna learn a thing or three
About the shit you pulled on me)
(You’re gonna learn a thing or nine
When your new love leaves you behind)
(You’re gonna learn a thing or twelve
Abandon all hope: welcome to hell!)
I swear to god we’ve been here before-
My life’s possessions piled outside your door
It all looks so familiar, was this what you had in mind
When you tossed your tail at me and caught my eye?
I can’t believe you want to see me gone
Leaving me with fresh fodder for a dozen done-wrong songs
They’ll be clanging in my head when I wake up at 2:00
God, I’d claw my way through concrete walls for just one smell of you
The Words Come Slowly (J. Purvis)
Despite the fact that my image of God has changed radically over the course of my lifetime, one thing that has never changed is the degree to which the very notion of God can move me. It’s nothing short of astonishing to me how much the tragic and triumphant story of a 1st century rabbi, Yeshua bin Yosif, can still be such a source of both alienation and redemption in our world some two thousand years after his death.
One Easter morning I had a dream in which I was standing in the courtyard outside the high priest’s house after Jesus’ arrest; I was with the group gathered around the fire, overhearing Peter’s denial. Looking through the gates into the interior of the home, I could see Jesus as he stood before Caiaphas and I saw the look of complete human brokenness and abandonment forged on his face. I had never seen such pure agony. I awoke in tears, awestruck by how much this one man’s life, lived two centuries’ before my birth, could fill my heart with such overwhelming joy and sadness all at the same time. This song was condensing and precipitating from my dream before my feet touched the floor.
"Whether he is a sinner or not, I don't know. One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!"
Amen.
The words come slowly to me some of the time
My verses seem to stumble, lines refuse to rhyme
I become all tongue-tied, mute and dumb
The words come slowly to me
The words come slowly to me some days
Their meaning escapes me, I can’t find the phrase
Nothing seems to work to express what I feel
The words come slowly some days
And other times they flow like a stream
Flashing like thunder, dropping from my dreams
And other times they have a life of their own
But the words come slowly today
Last night I watched as you took a lonesome stand
Inquisitors cruel and mocking, a solitary man
Betrayed and abandoned, forsaken beyond hope
Yeah, the words are coming slowly right now
So long ago, yet haunting me today
Trapped in my silence, unable to say
What it means to me that you laid it all down
The words are coming slowly today
The words are coming slowly to me
The words are coming slowly