Discography

For Jeannette Walls, author of The Glass Castle • You're the home sweet home that I settled for, a pretty place where I could pace a pretty floor • Now all your windows have turned into doors, when I step outside I need to drive • I need to drive, I need to go like butterflies to Mexico, like a bird chasing a Winter storm across the sky, don't ask me why, I couldn't say, it's just that way • You're just like all the homes we knew as kids • Plenty of cubbies where we dreamed and hid till it was time to move away, and we did I always cried, and then we'd drive • I need to drive I need to go like a wild mustang through new snow, Like Thelma and Louise, though New Mexico, you'd have to say that was the way they had to go • I know you'll miss me when I'm gone, the feel of footfalls on your floor will tell you I'm home and you can hold me • I need to drive I need to go • I need to drive I need to go like a bird chasing a Winter storm across the sky, don't ask me why, it's just that I need to drive I need to go ...

I'm hurtin' I'm not flirtin', no I'm not angels in the snow • I'm feeling the feelings I denied for so long I kept them inside, it's crazy ... you think so? • well I guess I, I guess I, I guess I, I guess I, I guess I always shoop ta sho • Under the belly of a cow you got udders, you got clowns • depends on the way you look at it, I've been milkin' a lover for a friend, and it's crazy but now I know, and I guess I, I guess I, I guess I, I guess I, I guess I always shoop ta sho • And your poetry doesn't teach me, no your poetry doesn't seek me, your poetry doesn't reach me if it used to, if it used to • I'm fillin' my time up with new, I got pieces on the scope • 'Cuz runnin' and hidin's for toddlers, I'm biding my time with my daughters and fightin' the waters of apathy with new hope • and I guess I, I guess I, I guess I, I guess I, I guess I always shoop ta sho

I don't care about the moon, I don't care about the sun, I don't care about a rainbow, they tease the sky and then they're gone • I don't care about the things too big to hold, too far away • I only care about you 'cause I can hold you every day • If you find me lost in the charms of a clear blue midnight sky, I'll be standing in the dark, starin' at the stars, counting all the reasons why I don't care about the moon, and when the stars come out to play, their sparkling eyes could never hold me and I can hold you every day • All the heavenly bodies suspended in space, are for dreamers and gazers, it's illusions they chase • If you find me lost in the charms of a shimmering sapphire sky, I'll be barefoot in the sand, sifting through my hands will be all the reasons why I don't care about the moon, too hard to hold, too far away, I only care about you 'cause I can hold you every day • I fold my hands in prayer each morning you'll find me soon somehow, someway, and I will show you as I hold you, why I don't care about the moon

I was lonely, looking to the sky when a falling star landed by • Whatever brings two hearts together is a mystery we can't deny • I was lucky when you fell my way and you stepped from the star parade • You were a dream in the distance in a night so vast, now you're my falling star come to stay • You fell so far to be near, you were a vision when you appeared • Heaven is only a playground of dreams they say, stretching far as the Milky Way • To have found a love brighter than all above, a lucky star that shines by day, a falling star, that's what you are, falling in love with me to stay

I've had some trouble coming down from you, I'm drunk on the light of a Watermelon Moon, and the nectar of your emerald eyes, the salt of your tears, your kisses' cries • There's no going back for a safety boat, no water to drown in, no boat to float, swingin' high above the stars' footlights, to a calliope 'neath a pink moon sky, and morning breaking in your Watermelon Moon eyes • I knew we'd illuminate the moon as poets do, and lovers who thirst for the moon to open up love's sacred bloom, for daylight destroys what moonbeams unearth • Have you ever seen when pink moon flies, it brings out the pleading in your baby's eyes and the need, born at the edge of night to bless every plea in its sweet, sweet light, and morning breaking in your Watermelon Moon eyes

The Musclewoods have all been dipped in mercury and silver • A black grackle cackles 'neath a dove-grey sky • A restless patch of Black-eyed Susans lashes out in sprays of color, all decked out, like a Baptist's daughter, gone out the window to meet her lover, underneath the wistful gaze of Winter's leaden eye • Every region of my skin you draped in burgundy and velvet and removed the crown of reason that I wore • Each defense you have reshaped by a love that's out of season like that bed of yellow flowers out my door • So tell me, why should I ask what is or isn't in your kiss? • When it's so loaded down with love and thoughtful lover's lies • And tell me, what blossom inquires "what time of year is this?" before it pushes its tender petals in prayer to the skies • Every region of my skin you draped in burgundy and velvet and removed the crown of reason that I wore Each defense you have reshaped by a love that's out of season, like that bed of yellow flowers, where we laid to catch the hours along the silent greystone path of Winter's corridor

He had a tumbleweed heart, he was always rollin' away, he was as free as a bird, as loose as a word you never meant to say • He had a tumbleweed heart, out to see the world, till he blew into town, started hangin' around with a sagebrush girl • He never meant to stay, he had rainbows to chase, for the road was a code for love that wouldn't grow old and fade to grey • He had a tumbleweed heart, across the desert he whirled, and he spun like a top till all at once he stopped for a sagebrush girl • A sagebrush girl prefers a garden to keep, she doesn't favor the wind and her roots grow deep • She never liked to roam, she'd have no horse and no cart, but in time she would leave to be tossed on the breeze with a tumbleweed heart • Under a harvest moon, a chandelier of stars, he put down a few roots, she pulled on her boots and waltzed into his arms • Under a desert sky they made tumbling an art, and danced and they swirled, that sagebrush girl, and a tumbleweed heart

Don't you hate how a heart hardens when love closes its eyes? • Ain't it strange how we'd both forgotten all about the goodbyes? • But holding you close in the night made loving you easy and safe • Now the emptiness holds me so tight it's beginning to chafe • I'm too, keyed up to sleep, the moon's too bright and the memories too steep • I'm too keyed up to sleep, the moon's too bright and the darkness too deep • Don't you hate when it's fate your stalling 'cause you never much liked a surprise? • But I always answered the calling, straight as an old crow flies • To love you felt hopelessly right, dear, and right's never wrong to a heart • Now to get through the day I just steer, but getting through night is an art • I'm too keyed up to sleep, the moon's too bright and the memories too steep • By the light of the moon I hold on to a thread, swinging between full-of-hope and a half-empty bed • I'm too keyed up to sleep, the moon's too bright and the memories too steep • I'm too keyed up to sleep, the moon's too bright, and the darkness too deep

In my own little corner of the world you make me feel secure, you make a difference in my life, you change my world • You change my world, you make me smile, just because, just because you got time, you got grace, you got love written on your face • There's a world out there spinning by with all that's beautiful and strange, with all that tears at little hearts like yours and mine • You change that world, you make it fine just because, all because you got time, you got grace, you got love written on your face

A mountain looms by a fireside, in the warm cocoon of your soon-to-be bride, down a long white lie where your tires have sped, like an empty rhyme that must be fed • while the mad, mad moon, like a witch's sun fills up my room with everything we've done, and I'd be blind, if I didn't have eyes, and I wouldn't know love but for our goodbyes • Soon you'll arrive at her gilded crest, kneel like child, at her warm behest, and like a newborn stoned at his mama's breast, you will atone like a grateful guest • while memory's braille, of my Bedouin face, golden and pale, that your fingertips traced, will merge by and by into her rivers of sighs, and she wouldn't know love but for our goodbyes • From the dawn of time until time stands still, a heart will find a way to fill, like sand that feeds an hourglass, the aching need for love's repast • while for you and me, what another deems sour, was a truly sweet nocturnal flower whose beauty thrives where our darkness lies, we wouldn't know love but for our goodbyes, she wouldn't know love, but for our goodbyes, we wouldn't know love but for our goodbyes

I live in Happy, just north of Tulia, eight dusty miles from the Lasso Motel, The flies are thick here in the August summer, in the winter they leave for awhile, and I walk twice a day down those eight dusty miles • I work at the Sonic, a stone's throw from the Lasso, and I've seen lots of folks come and go, men will invite me with a wink and a dollar, to come by their rooms for awhile, and bring a smile, 'fore I walk home down those eight dusty miles • One day I'll fly down those dusty miles,I'm savin' up to buy my daddy's truck, Gonna fly away, I'll be leavin' Happy one fine August day • I can see from the roadway, Daddy sits at the window, and his face is pained and tight, Used to be it was Mama, they all said she was wild, but she always came home till one night, she took the car to Delray, she just flew away down those eight dusty miles • so I sit in the shadows, he waits in the dark,with a new drink and an old need to fight, he'll either hit me or hold me, I can still hear the echo of their kisses or his fists in the night, I try and make 'em last, I don't walk too fast down those eight dusty miles • One day I'll fly down those dusty miles, I'm savin' in up to buy that old blue truck, Gonna fly away, I'll be leavin' Happy one fine August day, one fine August day, I'll be leavin' Happy, one fine August day

Small town Rhode Island girl, grew up with the big sea at her big bare feet, with cohogs, clam beds, old dogs and Deadheads, and the sweet smell of Mary Jane • Tenth grade, straight C's, Threw out her double-A cups, nothin' there to squeeze, Big boned, long legged, so stoned, space cadeted, Lena was the one every one liked to tease • She holds her breath, blows out the smoke, tried the meth, then the coke, but with Mary Jane she's gliding on thin air, living life on a dare to dance with Doris, the smell of Ivory soap in her golden hair, dance with Doris at the Prom in front of everybody there, dance with Doris and be her Fred Astaire. • Julieann, Lena's best friend, presents a plan in the locker room of the gym, Between periods they sneak outside, to try the plan on for size, but Lena just lights up and says, "Julieann, I can't dance." • She holds her breath, makes a joke, they start to laugh till they choke, Julieann reaches out her hand to stroke Lena's hair, living life on a prayer, she wishes Lena would be her Fred Astaire, She wishes she was prettier and fair, then maybe Lena would be her Fred Astaire. • One AM, Junior Prom, Julie watched as it all went wrong, Lena just couldn't get up her nerve, Doris left and now Lena's hands still burn, to rest on little Doris's curves. • Lena slips out the side door of the gym, to the chill air of the empty parking lot, where Julie waits with one rolled and ready, Lena lights it but her hand's unsteady, and as she sucks at the sweetness she says, "Julieann, it was a damn good plan." • She holds her breath, takes another toke, gives Julieann a playful poke, reaches out her hand to stroke Julieann's hair, She knows that life can be so unfair, says, "Hey Julie, wanna go down to the pier? Come on, let's waltz on outta here, I'll be your Fred Astaire, You can be Doris, and I'll be your Fred Astaire."

A ringing phone, the kids are screaming, "Daddy's home!" the broccoli's steaming, hissing, boiling over, then a banging, at the snow-covered door, A UPS deliver man, the Christmas dress, he stomps and stands there, but she left her glasses by the sink, Christ, just sign here, Mrs. Moore, Then he trudges to the deadlines, he's hauling never noticing the sound, of new snow falling • Her husband yells, the game is starting, the soufflé fell, a plane's departing, and the roaring overhead brings a yearning, if only fleeting, The microwave keeps up its beeping, the pudding caves, her daughter's cell phone is creeping, across the kitchen table as it vibrates, and clatters to the floor, Becky's boyfriend's hormones calling, but her mind's adrift above the drifts, of new snow falling • Then something breaks inside her, like the cold gears of clock, Time has been denied her, still she wrestles with the lock, Outside a silence builds, with each new layer of snow, and a sound so foreign fills her, like a friend she used to know, and like a baby blissfully crawling, through God's frozen tears, she hears the sound of new snow falling • She went without, now she's gone within, there on the floor, with her mind snowed-in, and she's finally found the keys, to the quiet she'd long been seeking, 'neath the steam and the vapors, an old bic pen, a sheaf of papers from a drawer, stuffed in, and she sits on the floor and writes, and no one's speaking, and no one's calling, save for the sound of new snow falling