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[After talking about my musical roots, favorite songwriters, and a few personal rules for writing a good song, I get to the true purpose of this blog--documenting the lyrics of 32 of my songs in one place. Feel free to skip to that part!]
When I look back at my musical "roots," they are broad but not especially deep. Both of my parents could play musical instruments, but we did not play much music in our home. My father could play his Martin ukulele quite well, although we were seldom treated to a performance. And, unbelievably, I spent my entire childhood unaware that my mother could play the piano. Quite unexpectedly during a visit to my home in California in 1981, when I was 32 years old, she sat down at my (unplayed) piano and began to play for me! She played a couple songs popular in the 1940's, got up from the piano, and never played again.
I had known that my Aunt Ruth, who was my father's oldest sister, was an excellent pianist and had studied for seven years in Paris, but it was not until after her death in 1989 that I discovered she had given a recital in Carnegie Hall. She loved to play Chopin. Her husband, my Uncle Joe, had often broadcast that he was adept at playing the saw (and it was beautiful to hear), but somehow they had never told me about her Carnegie Hall gig.
So, my musical roots were mostly kept secret from me! In the 1950's my primary source of music was an AM transistor radio that was always tuned to WLS in Chicago, which played the day's pop tunes. I loved Buddy Holly, the Everly Brothers, Elvis Presley, and Jimmie Rodgers, as most kids did.
Earliest Musical Influences
My earliest memory of music, however, was the gospel music my sister and I would hear each Saturday morning, as it poured out of the Seventh-day Adventist Church windows across the vacant lot from our house. Few kids in our town got to hear such powerful music at such an early age. My sister and I were captivated and a bit overwhelmed by it. Oddly enough, my parents never got to hear what we heard. My father was off working each Saturday, while my mother was occupied doing the family laundry or grocery shopping. My sister and I liked to sit on our front porch stoop when church let out, as the mostly Black congregation filed out and walked past us. Everyone was dressed in their "Saturday best," and the ladies would wave to us.
My musical world changed in 1962, when my family bought a record player that could play LP's. By 1964 we owned about twenty albums, where the purchase of each new album was a big event for the family. Of course, our musical tastes went in different directions. My father loved Streisand and musicals, like My Fair Lady. He also had a very old, complete set of Beethoven's nine symphonies, which he loved to listen to alone in the basement while nursing a whiskey. Beethoven and whiskey were his private indulgences. My sister preferred folk albums by Peter, Paul and Mary and Judy Collins, and she wasted several weeks' allowance on the debut album of a group I didn't especially like, called The Beatles. My mother pretty much listened to any type of music that was playing, although she did express a special love for Elvis.
I, on the other hand, loved a sound that was completely different--Henry Mancini's big band music. I wore holes in the grooves of Peter Gunn, Mr. Lucky, and, my all-time favorite, The Blues and the Beat. I suppose I first fell in love with the big band sound while watching the television series "Peter Gunn" with my father, although most of the television shows in the 1950's (westerns, variety shows, dramas) had rich, original musical scores. While other kids were listening to The Beatles, The Beach Boys, and The Rolling Stones, I spent an inordinate amount of time in my room, listening to Henry Mancini's band. I was generally unaware that his band was made up of several jazz greats, like Pete Candoli, Plas Johnson and Larry Bunker. When I saw Benny Goodman in the early 1980's at a local winery, a large part of his big band was comprised of Mancini's old band members, and probably no one else in the audience appreciated that as much as I did.
Folk Music Gains A Foothold
Though I retained my love of Mancini through his movie score years, I joined my sister in listening predominantly to folk music in the early- to mid-1960's. All of our albums were from the folk genre--Peter, Paul and Mary, Judy Collins, Tim Hardin, Phil Ochs, Eric Andersen, Hedge and Donna, Bob Dylan, Donovan, and Simon and Garfunkel. (Neither of us ever cared for Joan Baez, a folk luminary of the 1960's.) One Sunday in 1966, my father took my sister and me to an area in Chicago not far from Old Town to look at guitars, and we stopped in at a record store. He said he'd buy each of us one album of our choice. My sister immediately chose the latest Peter, Paul and Mary album, but I scoured the bins and pulled out a monaural recording(!) of some guy I'd never heard of. I just liked the album cover photo and the guy's name: Gordon Lightfoot.
Thus began my life-long love of Gordon Lightfoot and his music. If I had to identify my greatest songwriting influence, it would be Lightfoot. His first album contained three songs I was already familiar with ("Early Morning Rain", "For Lovin' Me" and Phil Ochs' "Changes"). They were all on albums of other people and widely performed. But it was the other songs on that first album that grabbed me more deeply than any other music I'd ever heard. "Rich Man's Spiritual" and "Pride of Man" were gospel-based, "Steel Rail Blues" and "Ribbon of Darkness" reflected his Canadian country roots, and "The Way I Feel" and "I'm Not Saying" presaged decades of haunting love songs that he'd write. From the first listening, that album became my all-time favorite album, and I've never even bothered to get a stereo version of it.
My sister and I both were given Gibson guitars later that year. She was much more adept at finger-picking and was not scared to play in front of other people, so she learned a dozen songs (mostly Peter, Paul and Mary, Donovan, and Simon and Garfunkel tunes) and began playing regularly at our local coffeehouse. Her voice was pleasant and unremarkable, but her guitar playing was extraordinary, so she was one of the more highly regarded local talents. Meanwhile, I sat in my room and tried to learn some Lightfoot songs, never intending to play them for anyone. I bought all of his songbooks and, amazingly, discovered that he often used unusual chord structures in his songs. I knew of no one else who did that in folk music. Folk tunes were so easy to learn because they were mostly based on simple chords--C, G, D, F, E minor, A minor. It wasn't unusual for a song to only have three or four chords in it. Lightfoot used chord fingerings I'd never seen before, and he could use a dozen chords in a song.
The Holy Trinity
In the mid- to late-1960's, music was certainly the most important part of my life. I loved most of the popular groups, especially The Beatles, Buffalo Springfield, The Mamas and The Papas, and any group Eric Clapton was in, and I still listened to a lot of folk music, but I would often hide in my dorm room at college and listen to albums of my three favorite songwriters--Gordon Lightfoot, Joni Mitchell, and Janis Ian. Unlike any other singer/songwriters I found, I was absolutely hooked on their music from their very first albums. As with Gordon Lightfoot, I had never heard of Joni Mitchell when I bought her debut album ("Song To A Seagull") during my customary Saturday morning trip one week to the local record store. It defined a new genre of music for me.
Looking back on it, that holy trinity of songwriters had many things in common. All three of them played guitar and piano, although Lightfoot never recorded songs on piano. They used odd tunings, chord structures, tempos and phrasings that could not be easily copied or covered by other artists. Their songs fell somewhere between the traditional three-verse folk tunes and eight-verse epics written by Bob Dylan; it was common for them to write songs that were four or five minutes long, unlike the standard two- and three-minute pop songs you'd hear on the radio.
Most important to me, they were three of the greatest lyricists in our lifetime. Of course, this opinion is debatable, but when I think of great lyricists, those three along with Paul Simon and Leonard Cohen comprise my top five.
All in all, the songwriting of those three people evolved from being mainly a craft (and a very good craft) in their first couple of albums to being pure art, as if the songs flowed naturally from some place without much work. All three could write exceptionally beautiful melodies, but one tended to look past the melodies and listen to the words mostly. I remember seeing an interview of Paul Simon once, and he said that each song of his was still an immense labor, that he had to craft each word. Gordon Lightfoot's technique, similar to Paul McCartney's, was to write a dozen songs in a short period of time and then to make minor changes to each one. Lightfoot even wrote one song, "Bitter Green," in a taxicab on the way to his songwriting retreat.
There are many, many songwriters who wrote great lyrics, but few had the longevity and consistency that those three had. Disregarding song compilations and live recordings, Lightfoot has recorded 20 studio albums, Mitchell has 19 studio albums, and Ian has 22 studio albums. They each showed a tremendous progression and evolution in their recording careers; they were not primarily known for one or two albums. Their careers each spanned a minimum of five decades--half a century!
When I look at their songs more closely, there are four qualities in songwriting they each had in abundance that distinguished them from most other songwriters.
- They evolved as storytellers. Beginning songwriters are not often natural storytellers, and so their early songs have more aspects of poetry--trying to get meter and rhymes to work--than of prose. From their initial albums, however, all three of these songwriters used their songs to tell stories, with beginnings, development, and resolutions. Their lyrics held together as conversations between the songwriter and listener. I think of Lightfoot's "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," Mitchell's "Coyote," and Ian's incredible "At Seventeen," where each song told a story that developed from verse to verse.
- They put choruses to good use. The traditional folk song has three or four verses, a chorus that repeats word-for-word after each verse, and possibly an instrumental or lyrical bridge of 8 bars somewhere in the mix. The Beatles were masters at using 8-bar bridges in their songs, but I don't recall any song of theirs that didn't keep the same words in each chorus. Gordon Lightfoot, Joni Mitchell, and Janis Ian often put their choruses to better use. Each chorus could be so different from the others that it was if the song was written with two interwoven sets of verses having different melodies. Or, even more interesting and brilliant, each chorus could vary just enough from the previous chorus so as to provide another level of development in the song. I think of Lightfoot's "Don Quixote" or Mitchell's "California" as examples of that technique.
- They used just the right words. Hemingway was famous for replying, when asked what seemed to be the problem that it took him 38 attempts to write the ending of A Farewell To Arms, "finding the right words." Lightfoot, Mitchell, and Ian have always been wordsmiths of the first order. Words at the end of lines didn't have to rhyme if they sounded similar. So, Joni Mitchell could follow "red dirt road" with "reading Vogue" or Janis Ian could rhyme "hand-me downs" and "could pronounce." Finding the right words always allowed their songs to flow naturally and unstilted, without seeming that words were added, changed, or removed to fit the melody. In addition, especially Joni Mitchell could change the tempo within a line, as if she were having a normal conversation with someone. The words said exactly what needed to be said, and, except for very early songs, there were no forced rhymes. (All songwriters have "least favorite" rhymes, and mine is to use the word "blame" with anything, as Janis Ian did in an early song. I did it in one of my early songs as well, which I regret.)
- They infused songs with feelings. Probably the hardest thing for a songwriter to do is to lay their feelings and vulnerabilities open without sounding juvenile, maudlin, or self-pitying. All three could write songs that were intensely personal, but still universal in nature. I recall Gordon Lightfoot's "The Way I Feel" and "If You Could Read My Mind," Joni Mitchell's "River" and "Help Me," and Janis Ian's "Stars" and "Jessie." These songwriters wrote songs about themselves without saying "These are all about me," because the listener could always say, "Yeah, I know how that feels." It's like seeing a great movie and not thinking that it's all about the actor's life, but about the character's life and your own life. Somehow my three favorite songwriters could infuse songs with their private feelings without taking away mine.
Over the years I've had so many other favorite songwriters--people whose songs influenced my own lyrical efforts. I consider a song "great" if I wish I had written it and know I couldn't have. If a song contains three or four really good lines and doesn't fall apart otherwise, then I really admire the songwriter. Some songs contain many more than four good lines. Besides the people I've already mentioned, a very incomplete list of other favorites includes Laura Nyro, Don Henley, Glenn Frey, Steve Goodman, Karla Bonoff, Cheryl Wheeler, Stephen Stills, Neil Young, Michael Johnson, Paul McCartney, James Taylor, and Loudin Wainwright III.
From my seven years visiting and playing at the Red Herring Coffeehouse in Urbana, Illinois, I also got to know several remarkable songwriters, each with his or her own songwriting style and brilliance. The best were Dan Fogelberg, Thom Bishop, Linn Brown, Mark Hamby, Jim Barton, and Fred Koller. Others wrote good songs, and even very good songs, but those songwriters wrote the best songs.
Once in awhile in my years of active songwriting, I would pick up an album by someone I'd never heard of and, frankly, would never hear from again, but I'd be amazed by several of the songs. I favored acoustic music for the most part, and there were a lot of acoustic albums made in the 1960's and 1970's that never had national recognition, but they were still great. My band, The Ship, played a gig once in Dayton, Ohio, and we stayed that night at the house of some guy connected with the concert. He put on a vinyl album and said, "You guys have to hear this." I loved what I heard and bought the album the next week, and to this day I still have Orville Stoeber's "Songs" LP.
What Stoeber specialized in was using simple lyrics to paint stark images, and some of those images were stunning. From his "Morton Street Pier" song:
The river so brown as it flows from uptown
A tin can floats right by my feet
A seagull's cry is like the eyes of two lovers who'll never meet
He lived in New York's West Village and would walk along the Morton Street Pier overlooking the Hudson River, not far from where my sister lived at the time. He could take a single moment from his life, along with the resulting emotion, and turn it into a song that anyone could identify with, and he could do it in fewer words than any other writer. His song, "Like An Ocean," is that way, and I reprint it here in its entirety, without asking his permission:
The windows are shuttered, the gutters are cluttered
With streamers from someone's parade
I look at the moon through my shade far above
It's a shame now we know what it's made of
The old men are hiding, the young men are fighting
The neighborhood isn't the same, no
She couldn't remember my name if she tried
But I'd lie if I say she's to blame
And I feel, I feel like an ocean
So blue and so cold
A familiar emotion, I'm told
<instrumental verse>
I said I feel, I feel like an ocean
So blue and so cold
A familiar emotion, I'm told
It is, by the way, the only song in which I think the word "blame" is justified. It's a truly remarkable song in its simplicity and complexity. It was recorded in 1970, while the Vietnam War was still raging, and thus the reference to young men fighting. His focus changes from line to line, and yet it all hangs together as a single experience and emotion. And I love his use of rhyme--two words that rhyme (or sound similar) in the first line of each verse, followed by an embedded word in each third line that rhymes with words near the end of the second and fourth lines (e.g., "parade", "shade", "made"). The chorus is sung twice at the end, with an intervening instrumental verse (beautifully played), because there is no need for a third lyrical verse. Most songwriters would have tried to write a third verse there. I urge you to Google "Like An Ocean Orville Stoeber" and listen to it on YouTube.
Some Final Thoughts About Songwriting
Although the focus of this article is on the aspect of songwriting that involves writing good lyrics, there are many other things that can make a song great. The Beatles were unique because of their melodies, harmonies, arrangements, vocal ranges, instrumentation, originality, musicianship, raw energy and production, and probably all of those aspects exceeded their ability to write lyrics. Their lyrics were catchy and good enough to suit the brilliance in everything else they did, but the lyrics were seldom brilliant. Look at the second verse of their classic, Let It Be:
And when the broken-hearted people living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see
My Songs
A really good songwriter can write lyrics whether or not they reflect what is currently happening in his or her life, but most of my songs came from "true life" experiences as they were happening. I usually wasn't able to place myself in a situation and then write about that situation; I had to be experiencing it at the time. Most of my songs dealt with love and relationships--just beginning, in full swing, or just ended, although I have written songs about a friend's suicide, a friend's loss of a loved-one, two friends' wedding, a 1970's movie, and my favorite fictional detective. I have written songs about people I knew and people I didn't know.
A songwriter is always asked the same question: do you write the music or the lyrics first? Most of my songs began with a melody combined with the first (tentative) line of lyrics, although I have kept melodies in my head for years without a ghost of a lyric in sight, and I have many scraps of lyrics that never came close to a melody. To write lyrics you have to have a meter in mind, or else the lines won't work together in a coherent fashion, but you don't need a melody.
Although I probably had many shortcomings as a songwriter, the biggest problem often was putting too much in a song--too many verses, too many words per line, too many lines per verse. If I were to rewrite any of my songs, I would probably start with taking lines out. Curiously, what I regret the most is never learning to play piano (despite two or three starts), because I have several songs that would sound much better on piano, not guitar.
When I was young, I usually carried a spiral notebook around so I could jot down lyrics that came to me suddenly. If I was working on a particular song, it was usually going through my mind continually anyway, so new lyrics would appear without conscious effort. It wasn't so unusual for an entire verse or bridge to pop out at once. All I had to do was get it rolling with the first phrase, and then several others would follow. In one instance, I wrote three verses to a song while relaxing in a bathtub of soapy water, and many times I've written parts of verses while driving or walking alone. There are all sorts of ways that one can be inspired at inopportune times.
For me the toughest part about writing a song was always figuring out what the song was trying to say. I could write a good first verse, start the second verse and wonder to myself, "Where is this going?" Bob Dylan was especially good at writing "stream of consciousness" songs, where the order of the verses didn't matter so much, but I was never very good at that. Disciplining yourself to figure out what a song is about before you get far into the lyrics is the best way to write a good song.
I also found that the right environment was crucial to good writing. Although I loved going to cafes and coffeehouses with my notebook, they were usually too noisy and distracting to get good work done. If I was stuck on the lyrics in a verse, I'd find a quiet place, sink deeply into the mood of the song, and then let the words come to me. That's really it: the words would come to me; I wouldn't try so hard to go to them! I wrote most of Passenger during a plane flight in 2009, without intending to really work on the song. The lyrics just came out, and I wrote them down. And, by the way, once I got the song going, I didn't have to use my guitar to finish the lyrics; the melodies were fixed in my head.
Finishing a song can be so difficult, because the temptation to rewrite lines is always there. When do you stop? Many times I've rewritten lines months or even years after "completing" a song. I also found that it was a good thing to share my songs with other songwriters before they were finished, just to get another perspective on wording or phrasing. My old Ship buddy, Mark Hamby, suggested a one-word change to one of my songs, Annie, because he interpreted a line differently from what I'd intended, and I used his suggestion.
Songwriting has played a vital part in my life. It's been my most creative art form, and I'm very pleased with my small collection of pieces. Here are 32 of my songs (without music), documented in roughly chronological order, from my early days of over-writing and torturing lyrics to one of my last, and perhaps best, songs ("Passenger"). Preserving the music does not matter so much to me, but writing down the lyrics is something I've wanted to do for years. In this compilation I was unable to find full sets of lyrics for several old songs, including "Communion", "Affinity" and "Calliope," so they are probably lost forever. I was really into one-word titles for a long time, and they were of that era.
You'll notice that there was a 16-year period (1985-2001) during which I did not write any songs. I regret not writing during that time in my life, but I was busy helping raise two kids and starting a software consulting company. I may still write more songs in my life, although prose and blogging are more alluring to me now that I'm older. I may even try to do rough recordings of these songs, although that would mean having to relearn them.
For each song documented here, I'll provide my recollections of why I wrote it, what is noteworthy about it from a songwriting perspective, and any appropriate anecdotes associated with the song. I hope you enjoy them!
Here are the included songs, in date order by when they were written:
- Morning Gray (1970)
- Heather (1970)
- To Fall (1970)
- Three Friends (1970)
- Running (1971)
- Timepiece (1971)
- White Wine (1971)
- See You Once Again (1971)
- I Am Between (1971)
- Fall Again (1971)
- Morning In The Mountains (1972)
- Going To L.A. (1972)
- Think Again (1972)
- The Understanding (1972)
- Annie (1972)
- Relics (1973)
- Gee, But I Love Mr. Sherlock Holmes (1974)
- The Way It Is (1974)
- Flower In Bloom (1975)
- Better Things (1975)
- One Way Or Another (1977)
- Champion (1978)
- Heartstrings (1982)
- I Want To Be The One (1985)
- Second Chances (2001)
- The Great Divide (2008)
- The Divided States of America (2009)
- Passenger (2010)
- I Was Dancing With You (2010)
- We Were That Way Then (2010)
- Another Unrequited Love Song (2010)
- The Streets Of Spain (2011)
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[Morning Gray was my first song, written in the spring of 1970, just after meeting someone. The first verse is still one of my all-time favorite verses, because it sets the mood and flows so well. Very easy to sing. The verses focus on what is immediately around me, while the choruses get more and more into my thoughts and feelings. To switch from external observations to my thoughts, each chorus begins with the same word that ends the previous verse. I recorded this song for a Red Herring folk festival album, and Dan Fogelberg played guitar and added a harmony at the end.]
Morning Gray
Grey lights of morning come to paint my room
Find me awake to let them in
Make funny patterns through the window glass
Urge me to let the day begin
Shadows stretch as if they need someone
I watch them grow to be too thin
And specks of light remind me that she's gone
And now we have to start again
Chorus: Again the room is spinning 'round
A chorus to my wandering place
Again I sense you drawing near
But have to strain to see your face--just your face
Sunlight circles silhouette each word
Upon the page she left behind
A poem she wrote with every careful smile
That made excuses for the blind
And I can still recall her laughing eyes
Staring past the words to find
Another verse to make her life complete
Another voice to change her mind
Chorus: Mine was not too long ago
I wanted you to stay and smile
To talk about the simple things
We each had left to love awhile--just awhile
Now she's painting everything she sees
Upon a canvas made of lives
One man's love she draws in darkest green
Another's love she treats in white
Mine will be the newest love she paints
To match the blues in day and night
And all will run together while she laughs
For that's the love she needs tonight
Chorus: Tonight will be the emptiness
That comes inside with morning gray
That carries truth in every word
When there is nothing left to say--nothing left to say
Grey lights of morning come to paint my room
Find me awake to let them in
Make funny patterns through the window glass
Urge me to let the day begin
Shadows stretch as if they need someone
I watch them grow to be too thin
And specks of light remind me that she's gone
And now we have to start again
And again...and again...and again...and again
And again...and again...and again...and again
(c. Steve Cowan, 1970, 2017)
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[I wrote my second song right after visiting my sister in Greenwich Village in 1970. Of the many odd, lonely people I met in the coffeehouses there, some were young women who sang songs, waited on tables and poured coffee for customers, and they probably all had run away from their homes and left families behind. This song was a composite portrait of those women.
The lyrics in this second song are generally pretty weak, with words (such as "rhyme", "blame", "brings her down", etc.) that I stopped using by a year or two later. Unlike my first song, this song was filled with very basic, unpoetic lyrics. Still, the song shows how I approached the task of songwriting even from the start, and it has some good structure. It has four verses that develop the theme steadily, with a rhyme scheme of A B A B B B in each verse, and then it switches to five-line choruses with a rhyme scheme of A B C C B. Also, the choruses are not the same. To me, variations between choruses made a song more interesting.
It's a very sad song, but it reveals what I really saw with those young women. It was common to hear that a person had come to the Village to write and play her songs, but had stopped and was just waiting on tables to make ends meet, until her next chance came along. They were isolated, trapped, and without much hope. The last line of the song is the stark truth.]
Heather
Heather waits awhile until there's no one left to please
It doesn't matter much to be alone
So many times she's sung her song to the girl she used to be
And no one thinks to ask for one more song
No one thinks to ask her what went wrong
It's been too long
Three, or is it four months since her last love slipped away
While she tried to hide behind her pain
But now she doesn't try to write, the words just say the same
And no one asks to hear a new refrain
No one asks to hear a new refrain
What might have been
Chorus: She wonders if she'll ever find a way
To get back to the simple days she knew
There used to be a time
When she had no need for rhyme
When her words said enough for me and you
Heather tried to find another dream within her mind
She took a slow train out beyond the town
But don't you know the things she saw couldn't help her find
The reason why her freedom brings her down
The reason why her freedom brings her down
It can't be found
Chorus: She wonders if she'll ever find a way
To get back to the simple days she knew
How imperfections grow
Out of trying just to know
How to say all the words for me and you
Heather lets a day slip by; it doesn't matter now
Her music has been silenced just the same
She'd go home if she had a home to welcome her right now
But she doesn't and there's no one left to blame
There's no one left to blame
It's all the same; it's all the same
It's all the same--who knows your name is Heather?
(c. Steve Cowan, 1970, 2017)
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[This was the fourth song I ever wrote and, unlike the first three, it took about two days to complete, while watching the rain fall in late October of 1970. The lyrics are so juvenile--as a teenager might write a poem, but it seemed like serious stuff to me at the age of 21. Even with such an immature lyrical effort, there are many things about the song that show my potential as a songwriter.
First, the rhyme scheme in the verses is really unusual. The first line rhymes with a word in the middle of the second line, and the third line rhymes with a word in the middle of the fourth line of each verse. And even though songwriting was new to me, I wasn't content in using the same words for each chorus. In general, the song moves from sadness to something more pensive and even positive, and so the choruses move from "something sad" to "something simple" to "something nice."
Finally, as was often a characteristic in my early writing, the title of the song has multiple meanings, so "to fall" has three meanings--a tribute to autumn, the falling of tears, and falling in love. That must have been the inspiration for me in writing this song.
One other point stands out to me. The line, "it must be right to love so hard," shows the influence that Dan Fogelberg's writing was already having on me, because it's very similar to a line he used in one of his early songs.]
To Fall
Fall--a time of year
It lends a tear to fall on down
Change--a season goes
A lover knows when change is near
Chorus: Something sad in living autumn days
Something sad in trying to change your ways for someone else
Dream--of gilded birds
And needed words from far away
Gaze--beyond the rain
What will remain for me to say?
Chorus: Something simple in the way we live
Something simple in the words I give for you to hear
Joy--in what we do
From me to you--a joy for two
Leave--your myth behind
Fly off to find a place for you
Chorus: Something nice inside a rainy day
Something nice about the way you say, "I understand"
Love--from day to night
It must be right to love so hard
Fall--a time of year
Sustains my fear to fall so far
(c. Steve Cowan, 1970, 2017)
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[This was the fifth song I wrote, immediately before joining Albert Melshenker to write The Ship in late 1970. I had been very close friends with Cecil Germann and Jon Stafford (along with three other guys in a bunch of high school kids formally known as The Group), but our paths had diverged and we seldom saw each other after I went away to college. Both of them went into the armed forces, although Cec had considered becoming a priest and a psychologist. Jon was also in the process of becoming a master tool and die maker.
In April of 1970, we saw each other one night after being separated for months, stayed up all night to talk, and watched the sun come up from on top of a beautiful hill the next morning. Notes attached to this song's original lyrics say, "Our watching the sun come up was like seeing a new future for our friendship, one very clear and good. After seven hours of talking we were closer than ever."
This song has a very unusual form to it, with five verses surrounded by identical prelude and postlude stanzas that provide a contemplative perspective. The first four verses take place at the time the friends renew their friendship, while the fifth verse is about their life in the ensuing months. The first, third, and fifth verses each finish with two lines that review the status of the three friends, where Cec is the first person, Jon is the second, and I'm the third. Pertaining to my maturing that year, I went from doing songs that others wrote ("...find himself in words that others made") to writing my own songs ("...will carry on with words"). There's also the hint at the end of that last verse that I was making some significant new friends by that time.
This was written at a time right after I had read Herman Hesse's "Siddhartha," and thus allusions to the lapis stone and choosing one's mountain from which "to observe eternity."]
Three Friends
Prelude: The rain of autumn leaves behind its legacy so strange
And seasons slip away before we have the chance to change
Different as the seasons is each man within himself
Another year must come and go as proof of nothing else
Three friends stand alone and welcome home another day
The early April morning shouts a warning down their way
One is carried off by love, another grabs the sun
The third is wondering to himself if three can be like one
Southern winds are blowing 'cross a field of frozen green
Caught up in their dreaming they are carried in between
The songs and flutes and ancient lutes and pigments in the sky
And with the lapis stone they sit and watch the world go by
Three friends were together once and tried to hold it fast
But found they had to search alone to see if life would last
One was off to holy rites, another chose a trade
The third one tried to find himself in words that others made
The sun bleeds down its agony, a word from far away
Tells them of another life that shines through morning gray
While some are lost in searching for the lock that fits the key
Others choose their mountains to observe eternity
Three friends send a word or two from where life set them down
All that's left is knowing what each other thinks he's found
One will save a lonely life another must defend
The third will carry on with words and look for one new friend
Postlude: The rain of autumn leaves behind its legacy so strange
And seasons slip away before we have the chance to change
Different as the seasons is each man within himself
Another year must come and go as proof of nothing else
(c. Steve Cowan, 1970, 2017)
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[This was probably the best of my early songs. I wrote it in May and June, 1971, right after breaking up with my girlfriend. Part of the song was written during a very long car trip around the western half of the United States. Songs were often on my mind while I was driving.
There are several interesting musical aspects to this song. Each verse has six lines, where the first and second lines rhyme, and the fourth and fifth lines rhyme. The third and sixth lines don't rhyme with anything! Each successive set of three lines has the same melody. So, within a verse, the first and fourth lines sound the same, second and fifth lines sound the same, etc. However, the lyric of the third line always flows into the fourth line as if it's one continuous thought. This technique gives a stream of consciousness quality to the lines.
This song does contain one of my very favorite rhymes of all time--"horizon" and "my eyes on". The rest of the rhymes in the song are consistently high quality, a big improvement from earlier songs. I also really love the storytelling in this song, as I travel from one verse to the next. Finally at the end of the fifth verse, I'm able to state the solution to the quandary I was in, "Running may not have direction, but I can tell with one inspection whether it is toward you or away." I've rarely summarized the purpose of a song so clearly.
There's one more little gem in this song I've never told anyone. The use of the word "relinquished" in the chorus is my personal tribute to William Faulkner's "The Bear," which I read just before starting the song. The spirit of that story is in the song.]
Running
Running south along the border
The winds have changed, are getting warmer
Still I have the greater part of
One full day in which to travel
While I try to just unravel
What it is that's driving me from her
Crossing tracks of misconception
Waiting for the next connection
Shadows from the
station lanternWaiting for the next connection
Tell me how I’m getting older
I wonder if the things I told her
Were enough to keep her in the past
Mountains on a stone horizon
Something though to keep my eyes on
Something though to keep my eyes on
Distant
and as pensive as the
Way
I feel could never please her
Running far would not appease her
But
mountains are the safest place to beRunning far would not appease her
Chorus: Running out like a candle flame
Soon to be extinguished in the wind
Running out by another name
Soon to be relinquished in the end, in the end
Running through Nebraska woodland
Ask him if he knows a good man
To calculate the risk in losing
What I never had to borrow
Worried that I'd lose tomorrow
If I didn't try to win today
Running circles round a center
I wonder if it’s time to enter
One more love to lead me into
Running may not have direction
But I can tell with one inspection
Whether it is toward you or away
Chorus: Running out like a candle flame
Soon to be extinguished in the wind
Running out by another name
Soon to be relinquished in the end, in the end
Running south along the border
The winds have changed, are getting warmer
Still I have the greater part to live
Still I have the greater part to live
Still I have the greater part to live
Still I have the greater part to live
(c. Steve Cowan, 1971, 2017)
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[Only a week or two after I'd finished writing Running, my friend, Linn Brown, passed my table in the Red Herring Coffeehouse and asked, "Hey, Steve, what's your timepiece say?" After I told her the time, I realized she'd just titled my next song. There were many ways to witness or interpret the passage of time--a burning candle, a gold pocket watch, the rising of the sun, the falling of tears, a sundial, the development of feelings--and I wanted to put them all in a song about the surprising start of a new relationship, where both the woman and I were questioning how quickly we were getting over our last relationships and starting a new one with each other.
Seldom do you see a song where the title appears in the lyrics seven times, but it works in this song. Also, the chorus is unusually short and is only sung twice. The second occurrence is a response to the lyrics in the bridge and, therefore, makes specific sense, where it is only a general comment at the first occurrence. I like that type of development within a song.
I really loved the accompaniment that Shipmates, Billy Panda and Todd Bradshaw, provided for this song, with the subtle rhythm of a clock ticking behind the lyrics. Because it's a song written in the first person and is very personal, a harmony vocal isn't appropriate, but I was able to find some unusual, gorgeous chords to go with the words. It's still one of my favorite songs.]
Timepiece
Timepiece takes away the day
I think about the way I care for you
Timepiece--a lemon-flavored flame
Waxen drops of reasoning what we've gone through
Timepiece dangling from a chain
Arrangements for the pain we've had to bear
Timepiece--an artifact of gold
Give us time to hold onto our share
Chorus: This is how I think it has to be
It's up to us to see
Timepiece becomes your morning laugh
Measures how content I am with you
Timepiece, of teardrops and of sand
Will you find the man that you hope to?
Bridge: How you left this morning before we had to rise
Did I see a lonely laughter in your eyes?
Are you so uncertain of the feelings in your heart?
Do you think it much too soon for them to start?
Chorus: This is how I think it has to be
It's up to us to see
Timepiece--a dial beneath the sun
You will be the one to keep the time
(c. Steve Cowan, 1971, 2017)
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[This is the third of three songs I wrote during the summer of 1971. They were very different in tempo, lyrics, and tone, and I'm very proud of all three of them. This one had almost a country sound to it, especially the extended chorus, and it was really fun to sing in our group. This was written many years before white wine became a popular drink, by the way. "White wine" was to be a metaphor for going slowly in a relationship, much as you'd sip one glass of wine over dinner.
This is a song where the chorus is more like a second set of verses, with different meter, chords, and rhyming scheme than the original verses. I especially love the first "chorus," with four really good lines that rhyme!
One other somewhat unusual quality about this song is that I end it by repeating the second verse, not the first verse. It's much more common to repeat the first verse at the end of a song. Also, White Wine and Running may be the only two times I ended a song by repeating the same line over and over.]
White Wine
I need you like I have to have the sunrise
To bring to me the day through curtain lace
I need you more than what it takes to live through
Another morning sun without your face
And I need you just as honest as the river
That flows beyond
the country to the seaI need you just as lasting as the ocean
That reaches for the rivers deep in me
Flowing deep in me
Chorus: You’re the reason for my knowing what has happened in the past
You're the season that is turning fair at last
You can tell I need to know it long before I've thought to ask
You can save the balance if we love to fast
You've the eyes of fire and agate burning bright beneath the sky
You can turn the wheels of fortune if you try, if you try
And you know the pain of patience when you see it in my eyes
And you know the pain of loving when it dies
Bridge: We will take our love a little at a time
Like the white wine that fills our drinking glass
Learn to taste the reason in our lives
Learn to sip it slowly, make it last
I've written songs to tell you how I'm feeling
So here is one to tell you to your face
A man must live by what he has to offer
But songs are not enough to take your place
They'll never take your place
And I need you just as honest as the river
That flows beyond
the country to the seaI need you just as lasting as the ocean
That reaches for the rivers deep in me
Flowing deep in me
Like the white wine flowing deep in me
Like the white wine flowing deep in me
Like the white wine flowing deep in me
(c. Steve Cowan, 1971, 2017)
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[This little song was written in one day, after crossing paths with a young woman, having a brief conversation, and getting her phone number to meet again. As lyrics go, these are pretty trite, but I liked the idea of writing a song simply based on a moment's interest. In fact, I was probably carrying my spiral notebook and went to work on the song right after the chance encounter.
There's nothing fancy about the form in this song. The first and third lines don't rhyme with anything and the chorus is repeated word-for-word. One interesting aspect is that the first verse is repeated in the next-to-last verse, and then a new verse follows to finish the song. If I had switched those two verses, the song would be less interesting.]
See You Once Again
If I had been the one to close my eyes
Or you had been the one to stay within
Then you would be so easy to forget
But for now I'd like to see you once again
It's a story that I've thought about before
Where it's best to not tell everywhere you've been
For the more that's told, the less there is to say
And for now I'd like to see you once again
Chorus: At least we have the same to think about
With only names and faces to recall
Free to choose whatever myth we must
Free to think of anything at all
But maybe it's no different than the book
Where things are better first than in the end
But I'd like to turn another page with you
So, for now I'd like to see you once again
Chorus: At least we have the same to think about
With only names and faces to recall
Free to choose whatever myth we must
Free to think of anything at all
If I had been the one to close my eyes
Or you had been the one to stay within
Then you would be so easy to forget
But for now I'd like to see you once again
And if I should want to show you something new
Or ask you if you'd like to meet a friend
It's nothing more than saying to myself
That I'm glad that I could see you once again
That I'm glad that I could see you once again
(c. Steve Cowan, 1971, 2017)
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[I had so many things going in late 1971 that I felt torn in different directions, always trying to please others. I think the first line I wrote for this song, about being between the shoreline and the sea, summed up my feelings at the time. The second verse is about my torn feelings in being on stage, and the last verse makes an interesting distinction between writing lyrics and searching for rhymes. I was always conflicted between one thing and another.
I originally had a melody for this song, but I didn't like it, so I asked good friend and songwriter, Linn Brown, to write the music. She came up with a beautiful melody and even played oboe on it the one time (I think) that I performed it.
By far the best part of the song is the chorus. I didn't consider any changes for the second chorus; it said exactly what I wanted to say, so I said it again. I also like the repetition of the title words to begin six of the lines. I did that technique a lot in my first two years of songwriting.]
I Am Between
I am between the marrow and the bone
One is cold as truth, the other cold as stone
I am between the crazy and the aged
One will take my youth, and one will have me caged
Chorus: And now I think that maybe life
Would be easier to go through
If I had it twice to do
Once for me and once for you
I am between the image and the stare
One will take my song, and one will keep me there
I am between the silent and the sad
One will be too long, and one will be too bad
Chorus: And now I think that maybe life
Would be easier to go through
If I had it twice to do
Once for me and once for you
I am between the lyric and the rhyme
One will take my heart, and one will just take time
I am between the shoreline and the sea
I think that I may never know what is good for me
(c. Steve Cowan, 1971, 2017)
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[Except for my song, Think Again, this is probably the simplest song I ever wrote. It was written during September and October, 1971, mostly while I sat in the south lounge of the U. of I. student union and watched the leaves turn red, yellow and brown.
The form of the song is classic simple. Two verses, a chorus, another verse, the same chorus, repeat of the first verse, and repeat of the last line--and that's it.]
Fall Again
Fall again, she begins to show you how the seasons go
Fall again, you begin to wonder will you ever grow
Too old to fall again
Fall again, she would like to take you far away to live
Fall again, she has promised all the love she has to give
To you to fall again
Chorus: But you've been through that before
And nothing makes it easier to love her now
You'd try to give her more
But the autumn has you feeling old somehow
Fall again, you begin to wander when the leaves turn brown
Fall again, she would never think that she might be turned down
For you to fall again
Chorus: But you've been through that before
And nothing makes it easier to love her now
You'd try to give her more
But the autumn has you feeling old somehow
Fall again, she begins to show you how the seasons go
Fall again, you begin to wonder will you ever grow
Too old to fall again
Too old to fall again
(c. Steve Cowan, 1971, 2017)
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[In June of 1971, two friends and I stayed with Pat and Victoria Garvey in Central City, Colorado, on our road trip around the western half of the country. I was given the guest room, which had a big feather bed with a flowered quilt and a window looking out on the mountains and the town below, and that was the view I had early the next morning when I awoke.
Pat and Victoria lived in a very old house on the side of a mountain. Their walls were covered with photos, old newspaper articles, Indian relics, and the like. It really felt that I was surrounded by a century of history, as I looked out on the houses and the mountainside.
Consistent with many of my early songs, the lyrics in the verses are somewhat trite, with too much importance given to rhyme rather than substance. But there are a couple interesting things concerning the form. It is one of only a couple songs I ever wrote with a prelude and a postlude. Many old songs from the 1930's and 1940's had preludes--brief introductory lines and/or epilogues--but you almost never hear such sections in modern songs.
The song does not call for a chorus, but it has an extended bridge containing a different meter, very long lines, and lyrics that flow more as prose than poetry.
The song was my tribute and thanks to Pat and Victoria Garvey, and I got to sing it to them from the Red Herring stage in late 1971, when they were visiting Illinois. I changed much of the music to the song in early 1972 and, thus, it has a later copyright year.]
Morning In The Mountains
Prelude: The past is living here between the cracks in the floor
The latch upon the door can't be closed anymore
You remind me of the way I used to feel
You remind me of the way I used to feel
Morning in the mountains, morning is so new to me this way
Morning in the mountains, underneath your flowered quilt I lay
Waking to your silly sky, it's wider than the reasons why I stay
Morning in the mountains, morning is so new to me this way
Early Sunday morning, I'm the only one who's lying here
Flowers at your window stir beneath the Colorado air
Your city doesn't know that I have watched it like a child who's sleeping there
Morning in the mountains, sun is shining brightly everywhere
Bridge: The morning's cold and clear and I can see the snow-lined ridge above the town
I'm the only one alive to see the morning stretch and wake without a sound
And it had to be the same way when the miners came and claimed the gold they found
For they brought the morning with them when they saw the mountains first
and settled down
And it's here that I have found you living different than the way that I have known
There's a century of turning and a legend left in learning what has grown
Your walls are like a history of where you've been and how you're on your own
And it's morning in the mountains that could make me feel it's good to be alone
Morning in the mountains, you have changed the way I want to be
Morning in the mountains, living will be easier for me
Living in the past and now, the future is too far for me to see
Morning in the mountains, you have changed the way I want to be
Postlude: The past is living here between the cracks in the floor
The latch upon the door can't be closed anymore
You remind me of the way I used to feel
You remind me of the way I used to feel
(c. Steve Cowan, 1972, 2017)
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[I wrote this song in April and May, 1972, just before my group, The Ship, headed to Los Angeles to record the album. I was caught up in the life of rehearsals and playing concerts, and I was constantly thinking about the past and the woman who'd inspired the folk opera.
I really like this song but probably only performed it a couple times. It had a lot of melodies, a lot of chords, and a lot of words in it, so it was very hard to memorize. Similar to the form we used in The Storm, the sixth song in The Ship, it not only has verses and choruses, but it also has a "dream" sequence of inner verses, which were done more softly and slower.
As with many of my songs, each chorus had different lyrics from the others, but I used a special rhyming technique in these. The first and second lines have rhymes within them, while the third line doesn't intentionally rhyme with anything. Note also that the second and third choruses each have a fourth line, which repeats the melody of the first line (you can't tell that from just reading it). I loved breaking away from traditional choruses.
I like several of the lines in this song, but a few others are obviously written to satisfy rhyming requirements. One of my favorite lines is the third line, "And though the people move too fast to be good friends of mine." That proved to be really true about L.A., although I was only writing from what others, including Dan Fogelberg, had told me.
I used a vanilla Travis fingerpicking style throughout this song (two different tempos), hearkening back to my folk music days.]
Going To L.A.
I'm going to L.A. to lay my life between the lines
They tell me that it's far out west and that the weather's fine
And though the people move too fast to be good friends of mine
I'm told that they will keep me high on women, grass and wine
Chorus: That I want to see, not for me to be
Jumpin' at the gun, believin' everyone
Because they think they know me
Well, the drive will do me good and I can breathe the country air
Stop a day in Santa Fe to see some old friends there
Now that I am on the road and heading for somewhere
It's easy to be gone so long they think that I don't care
Chorus: That I wouldn't do, not for you to be
Keepin' track of me, standin' back to see
If I will ever be the same as
When you knew me well, only you can tell....
Inner Verse: You were standing in the wings when our late set was done
I had lost so many things by being on the run, and you were one
A couple cups of coffee and I never will forget
Sitting in that small cafe the same way as we met
And I have yet to find a woman who I can love like you
Tomorrow night is Omaha, next week we hit St. Paul
I know that it's a lot to ask, but maybe you could call
And tell me all about the things that get you down
And I can tell you all about this town
Bridge: Sometimes I wonder if the songs I sold
Were worth the time I lose in growing old
Sometimes I wonder why I had to lose the girl and
find the world that keeps me searching for
a woman who can take the place of her
I'm going to L.A. to lay beside the cold, blue sea
Where sometimes when the sun goes down, the sunset will agree
That looking back is more than losing track of where you'll be
That sometimes in a heartbeat it will be the best of me
Chorus: That I wouldn't try to deny, but I
Have to look ahead, even though she said
That staying would be easier than
Going all the way, going to L.A.
(c. Steve Cowan, 1972, 2017)
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[This song was written in a single afternoon, a couple days after returning from our Los Angeles trip to record The Ship at Elektra Records. I was staying at Todd Bradshaw's house temporarily (Todd was the bass player in The Ship and an extraordinary songwriter), and I was just playing around on my 6-string guitar one afternoon when this song came out. When that happens, you just let it flow and write down the words as fast as you can.
It's a really simple melody and lyrics, but it has some pretty good lines. It really holds together as one of my better songs. It has a lot of little nuances to it. It's built around the phrases, "if you think" and "think again." The first and third lines of each verse start with "if you think," and the second and fourth lines are continuations in thought from those lines. I love the line, "If you think that you can think about me." So simple and yet quite a nice perspective.
One thing that's unusual about this song is that the first verse repeats as the third verse, not as the last verse. The last verse is entirely new and provides a certain finality to the whole thing.
I had no copy of these lyrics until I remembered that I'd recorded the song for good friend, Rich Warren, soon after writing it in 1972. Rich played it on his radio show several times and found it for me in his extensive archives. We'd done the recording in his Champaign apartment in one take! I'm so glad it's been resurrected. Thanks, Rich.]
Think Again
If you think that you can live without me
And it's never going to show
If you think that you can think about me
And never wonder why you let me go
Think again, think again
If you think that we were only lovers
And for that you found somebody new
If you think that you can find in others
The kind of love I've had for you
Think again, think again
Chorus: Think again of all the love we couldn't give away
Think of all the stars above that wouldn't hear me say
Loving you's the only way that I can love today
So, think again
If you think that you can live without me
And it's never going to show
If you think that you can think about me
And never wonder why you let me go
Think again, think again
Chorus: Think again of all the love we couldn't give away
Think of all the stars above that wouldn't hear me say
Loving you's the only way that I can love today
So, think again
If you think that you can soon forget me
And continue living on
If you think your life alone can yet be
Just as good now that I'm gone
Think again, think again, think again
(c. Steve Cowan, 1972, 2017)
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[I had completely forgotten about this song until I ran across it recently. It borrows the title of a short story that my dear friend, Paul Anderson, wrote in the 1960's. Similar to his story, this song is about a love that doesn't work out because of the circumstances of the two people. She happened to be the roommate of my girlfriend, and when we realized how we felt about each other, we also realized that our paths had crossed and forever separated. It was not as tragic as it might sound, because we did stay friends.
What I really like about this song is how the phrase, "to keep on loving her," has a different context as the song develops. It also seems appropriate that the first verse is repeated at the end, when it has more meaning.]
The Understanding
I knew a woman once by chance
Dark and holy deep
And she was caught by circumstance
And I was bound to keep on loving her
She knew the other sides of me
Kept them to herself
Stole them when she crossed the sea
To be with someone else to keep on loving her
She thought that we could be the same
When she came back to live
But all the time we spent became
Time she couldn't spend with him to keep on loving her
Chorus: Then we lived with one understanding
That I not fall in love with her again
Just old friends, shall we say
But I'll be your fading hero
Till I'm fooled by what I hold
And I'll think that I still love you
I'm too young to be so old
She married him and settled down
Her dreams began to fade
She took to that Northeastern town
The understanding we had made to keep on loving her
I knew a woman once by chance
Dark and holy deep
And she was caught by circumstance
And I was bound to keep on loving her
(c. Steve Cowan, 1972, 2017)
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[I think this is one of my two or three best songs. It's based on a true story that happened to a friend of mine. He and his girlfriend, Annie, came to several of the first Ship concerts, and they seemed so in love, but she went away to Europe over the summer of 1971 and never returned. He was left to only wonder what happened, after her "Dear John" letter arrived.
The Ship did a great arrangement of this song. It was Mark's idea for three guys to sing the first verse while I sang the chorus, half way through the song. When the group reprised this song in our reunion concert of 2009, we left off the last chorus and verse, but I still like the fuller version better, because it gets quieter and more pensive after the superimposed chorus/verse, with me singing the last chorus alone and then all of us singing the last verse a capella. Quite an effect.
I really love the bridge in this song, which is a completely different melody and feeling from the rest of the song. It also has what might be my second favorite rhyme in any of my songs--"fill of cod" and "will of God." Those lines almost wrote themselves.
I was very sad to see my good friend go through such a hard time in his life, but I could not have written a better song about it. He thought so, too.]
Annie
When are you going to come back, Annie?
The sky is in blossom, so full of your favorite blue
When are you going to come back, Annie?
You’re missing the springtime and I’m missing you
When am I going to see you, Annie?
The birds are returning and still you’re away from me
Soon I will gather the lilacs, Annie
And give them to someone who isn’t so free
Chorus: We were together when you saw the need to go
I said no other man would ever love you so
The highway is your shepherd and he leads you to the sea
And he doesn’t know the meaning of the loneliness in me
Bridge: I got your penny postcard from Bordeaux
The port is rich and old
The merchants sold you wine and oyster stew
The sailors told you stories that they knew
Their fishing fleet was leaving for the west
Each year they have to go
They sail the best to catch their fill of cod
And leave the rest to fear the will of God
You joined the toast to wish them safe return
And deep inside you couldn’t help but yearn
To go with them to sea
Chorus: The highway is your shepherd
(When are you going to come back, Annie)
And he leads you to the sea
(The sky is in blossom, so full of your favorite blue)
And he doesn’t know the meaning
(When
are you going to come back, Annie)
Of the loneliness in me
(You’re missing the springtime and I’m missing you)
When am I going to see you, Annie?
The birds are returning and still you’re away from me
Soon I will gather the lilacs, Annie
And give them to someone who isn’t so free
Chorus: We were together when you saw the need to go
I said no other man would ever love you so
The highway is your shepherd and he leads you to the sea
And he doesn’t know the meaning of the loneliness in me
When are you going to come back, Annie
The sky is in blossom, so full of your favorite blue
When are you going to come back, Annie
You’re missing the springtime and I’m missing you
(c. Steve Cowan, 1972, 2017)
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[I wrote this song when I was in a very poetic mood. It has many symbols and allusions to a particular relationship, with plenty of alliterations and internal rhymes and only a touch of bitterness. It was also during my Ship days and thus the references to sails and currents. It has some of my favorite metaphors, and so I'm quite pleased with this song.
The song has a very simple form. The lines of the three verses are fairly long, and so the short two-line choruses are a good contrast. As I remember, the guitar work on this song was more elaborate than I usually did, but it fit the poetic lines well.
An odd footnote--in 1973 my girlfriend took this song to her poetry class and entered it as a poem in a class project (along with a poem she had written). Her professor gave it a top mark, and then she revealed that it was actually a song written by her boyfriend. I was always proud of that.]
Relics
Tumbleweed upon the Seine flowing to Marseilles
Gather rogues and sentence them to love you for a day
You were moons and distant winds, I unfurled my sail
Billowed out, you caught me then, broke me in the gale
Fleets of foreign fishing boats set their nets for you
Tangled in the tide of hope, you don't know what to do
Channel currents cold and dead lead them to their grave
Gypsy hermits only live to die for what you gave
Chorus: I have loved you deep and well
And you have loved me, I can tell
Staunch within your rectory of kings and carriages
Bound to love's soliloquy in royal marriages
Relics scarred and torn apart, alabaster red
Castle kingdoms in your heart won't hear what I've said
Chorus: I have loved you deep and well
And you have loved me, I can tell
I have loved you deep and well
So now we bid our fond farewell
(c. Steve Cowan, 1972, 2017)
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[In the early 1970's I read all of the Sherlock Holmes stories and was tempted one day to dash off a song about him. Writing as quickly as I could, it took all of two hours to finish this inane, little ditty. As you can tell by the simple lyrics, there was very little rewriting. I don't think I ever played it for anyone, and I don't even remember the melody, but I do recall it was a happy-go-lucky rag. One oddity about the song is the first line, for I didn't even have a basement!]
Gee, But I Love Mr. Sherlock Holmes
I sat around the basement reading Sherlock Holmes
He and Dr. Watson were great
I love how he figured out the good from the bad
Miracles worked was his trait
A master at getting the most from a clue
He knew he could straighten the mess
The felon would fall before his trusty nose
Long before anyone guessed
Chorus: He jumped at the chance to unriddle the rhymes
That others had thought were too hard
The logic he used to uncover the truth
Ran circles round Scotland Yard
Now Holmes was a man of unusual means
To continue the search at his will
When he baited his trap on the English moor
For the Hound of the Baskervilles
And do you remember The Sign of Four
Or The Man With The Twisted Lip?
Could you forget how he dazzled them all
In the tale of the Five Orange Pips?
Chorus: He jumped at the chance to unriddle the rhymes
That others had thought were too hard
The logic he used to uncover the truth
Ran circles round Scotland Yard
I don't mean to give you the wrong idea
He had his ups and downs
But with opium and his sweet cocaine
There wasn't a safe place in town
Yeah, Sherlock Holmes led a dangerous life
From his room out on Baker Street
With the way that he solved every mystery
Well, I wish that we could meet
Chorus: He jumped at the chance to unriddle the rhymes
That others had thought were too hard
The logic he used to uncover the truth
Ran circles round Scotland Yard
Long before anyone caught on to a clue
He had the case well in hand
Gee, but I love Mr. Sherlock Holmes
And I never will understand how he did it
I never will understand
(c. Steve Cowan, 1974, 2017)
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[I was mostly away from music in 1974, but I did get inspired while watching Walter Cronkite on the evening news one summer night, just before Nixon resigned as president. If you remember, Walter would always close his show with the words, "And that's the way it is." Well, that night I replied, "No Walter, that's not the way it is," and I got out my guitar.
If I were to rewrite the song, I'd make it a little less personal and revealing in the choruses. Maybe I felt that when I wrote it, because I've never played it for anyone. I can still remember the melody, but I have no clue what the chords are. That's the way with melodies.
The only stylistic oddity to this song is that it's in the old folk song tradition of verse-chorus-verse-chorus, although all of the choruses are different. It's probably the only song in which I've done that.
One last clarification--Charles Kerault was a correspondent who had a features series called "On The Road" each week on Walter's show. That was my favorite part of the news.]
The Way It Is
Wicker-chaired and careless how you spend the afternoon
Feet up on the sofa, no intent to get there soon
You sip iced tea and watch TV, another bad rerun
You sit and sigh and my, you're having fun
Chorus: Now you know the difference that a lover really makes
It's not easy to recover what she takes
That stupid sailor, Gilligan, has lost himself again
You know that they will find him in the end
Dinner burns and that's enough to get the evening blues
Walter turns to headlines that have made the evening news
Half an hour of trouble, Nixon thinks that it's all his
You're not so sure that that's the way it is
Chorus: Now you know the meaning of the love you felt for her
And how you long to be the way you were
It's not the fault of Charles Kerault that life's a heavy load
But you and he are on a different road
Ten o'clock, the fire is out, and still the page is bare
One song more or less won't change the world if she'd not there
The guitar case you dusted will be closed for one more day
The pretty face you trusted's gone away
Chorus: You'll never know the reason why it had to be this way
Maybe you can try again someday
You gave your best, but all the rest will fade into the past
There's nothing you could do to make it last
Wicker-chaired and careless how you spend the afternoon
The way it is you won't be leaving soon
Chorus: Now you know the difference that a lover really makes
It's not easy to recover what she takes
That stupid sailor, Gilligan, has lost himself again
You know that they will find him in the end
Dinner burns and that's enough to get the evening blues
Walter turns to headlines that have made the evening news
Half an hour of trouble, Nixon thinks that it's all his
You're not so sure that that's the way it is
Chorus: Now you know the meaning of the love you felt for her
And how you long to be the way you were
It's not the fault of Charles Kerault that life's a heavy load
But you and he are on a different road
Ten o'clock, the fire is out, and still the page is bare
One song more or less won't change the world if she'd not there
The guitar case you dusted will be closed for one more day
The pretty face you trusted's gone away
Chorus: You'll never know the reason why it had to be this way
Maybe you can try again someday
You gave your best, but all the rest will fade into the past
There's nothing you could do to make it last
Wicker-chaired and careless how you spend the afternoon
The way it is you won't be leaving soon
(c. Steve Cowan, 1974, 2017)
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[When I came out of a two-year performance "retirement," I decided to honor my tradition of singing a new song with each performance, and so I started writing this song. It was the afternoon of the performance, and I still had a verse and the last two choruses to write. I took a bath to relax, and the words just came to me. That night I sang the song to a packed coffeehouse, with the words and chords on a page in front of me.
The bridge of this song is a tribute to D.H. Lawrence's novella, "The Fox." In it he describes love as a small blue flower hidden and disguised in a rock crevice. To me, this song is about the first months of a budding romance, and it may be my favorite song from how it develops and is put together. I especially like how the choruses progress, as a relationship and commitment between two people might progress, from "I will take you at your word" to "I will take your promise up" to "I will take your prophecies" to, most solemnly, "I will take your final prayer."
So, that's the first thing to point out about this song's format: the five-line choruses don't repeat words at all, but they are so connected, both in how their meanings progress and in the repetition of the leading words of the first two lines of each chorus. The three-line verses are unusual in their length, with each third line starting with the same word. Finally, the bridge is quite unusual in having ten lines, with two full stanzas and a concluding pair of lines that summarize the whole song.
You'll also notice that the rhyming schemes are much different between the verses, choruses, and bridge stanzas. The verses only use internal rhymes; the ends of the lines don't rhyme. The choruses use a rhyme pattern of A B A B C, while the bridge stanzas use a more focused scheme of A A A A. These different rhyme schemes are intentional. The verses are more relaxed, choruses more serious, and bridge (as with Lawrence's middle section of "The Fox") more intense.
This song was not written for or about anyone in particular, but it was just an opportunity to return to songwriting and performing. I wanted to see if I could still write a song, and I was extremely happy with the result. It has some of my best lines in it ("before the summer haze can pale the blazing flower" and "if your song can be sung by the river" are two).
One other comment--the last line of the song is somewhat mysterious, but it simply reflects a sentiment from "The Fox." The slender, blue flower can take everything from you unless you pick it at the right time.]
Flower In Bloom
If
you're kind, and you know what to do when love comes to you
Caring from the first and you don't
let your thirst for me fade
Darlin', if you find that your head
can rest when your heart
leads the way
Chorus: I will take you at your word
I will leave you to the seasons
Like the free and faithful bird
You will soar the sky between us
And return to me, and I will be your hero
And if you're there when the sun comes a-callin' for the day to begin
Steady from the start to give only the part that you can
Darlin', if you care to be half of the secret that no one will hear
Chorus: I will take your promise up
I will leave you to the sunshine
Like the springtime buttercup
But your blossom will be mine
Before the summer haze can pale the blazing flower
Bridge: Love is a flower, so slender and blue
Trembling and waiting to be noticed by you
Awake in her crevice, asleep in her hue
Robbed of her blossom, she's so fatal and true
Soon as you find her, you'll know by her face
No one can hurry her sudden embrace
But once she has touched you, her seed will unlace
All of the gardens to grow in her place
And when you have planted the earth with your soul
She will bloom for you
And if you're strong and believe in the loving that you find with someone
Filled with the passion that will spill like an ocean from you
Darlin', if your song can be sung by the river when your living is through
Chorus: I will take your prophecies
I will leave you to the currents
Of the high and mighty seas
But in me, you have assurance
That within my heart, I will chart your journey
Chorus: And I will take your final prayer
I will leave you to discover
What you know is waiting there
And the world will be your lover
When the flower blooms, and she assumes her sweet, sweet taking
(c. Steve Cowan, 1975, 2017)
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[This is one of only two songs I wrote in 1975, because I was spending most of my time playing with the country rock/bluegrass group, Appaloosa. My focus was not on writing songs, because I had to learn about fifty of Appaloosa's songs that year. It's not written for any particular person but is just an idea that I ran with after I wrote the last three lines of the first verse.
This song is faster and harder driving than almost anything else I ever wrote, and I really liked playing it. I love the complex format I used in this tune. The verses really had two parts, the first part with four lines and the second part with three. (When is the last time you saw a song with seven-line verses?) The first two lines of each verse don't intentionally rhyme with anything, while the third line rhymes with a word(s) near the end (but not at the end) of the fourth line! The fifth and sixth lines do rhyme, while the seventh line ties the three verses together by (almost) repeating the same words from verse to verse, but it doesn't rhyme with any other line. That format is consistent in all three verses.
In the spirit of having choruses that also evolve, the second chorus repeats the words, "I was led," from the first chorus, but it gives the words a different meaning, which then leads to the necessity for a fourth line. That's a technique Lightfoot would occasionally use in his songs.
Finally, there's the very uncommon positioning of the two choruses. There is actually an instrumental after the first chorus that takes the place of the first four lines of a verse, and so there are only three lines sung between the two choruses.
I never performed this song on stage and may have only played it for a couple people after it was written.]
Better Things
I can't tell by the way that you answer
If you want to hear from me or another man
I can't tell what you're feeling
But baby, if you're stealing me blind
It's high time that you found out
If you don't change, you'll be without
The better things in life, including me
I can't tell by the sound of your footsteps
If you're running to be near me or be gone
I can't tell if you need me
But baby, if you're leading me on
It's something that you should choose
To think about before you lose
The better things in life, including me
Chorus: Look here, I'm not going to settle for things that you do
Look here, I'm not going to follow if it's only for you
I was led to believe that better things can come true
It's high time that you found out
If you don't change, you'll be without
The better things in life, including me
Chorus: Look here, I'm not going to give away all that I am
Look here, you're not going to ever say I was your lamb
I was led to the slaughter, sacrificed for the stew
I was saved for the banquet by one better than you
I can't tell by your lingering kisses
If the fire is in your blood or in your heart
I can't tell if your fashion
Is anymore than passion and flame
But take a look before you're burned
Before the fire, be sure you've learned
That better things in life can be with me
So, take a look before you're burned
Before the fire, be sure you've learned
That better things in life can be with me
(c. Steve Cowan, 1975, 2017)
If you want to hear from me or another man
I can't tell what you're feeling
But baby, if you're stealing me blind
It's high time that you found out
If you don't change, you'll be without
The better things in life, including me
I can't tell by the sound of your footsteps
If you're running to be near me or be gone
I can't tell if you need me
But baby, if you're leading me on
It's something that you should choose
To think about before you lose
The better things in life, including me
Chorus: Look here, I'm not going to settle for things that you do
Look here, I'm not going to follow if it's only for you
I was led to believe that better things can come true
It's high time that you found out
If you don't change, you'll be without
The better things in life, including me
Chorus: Look here, I'm not going to give away all that I am
Look here, you're not going to ever say I was your lamb
I was led to the slaughter, sacrificed for the stew
I was saved for the banquet by one better than you
I can't tell by your lingering kisses
If the fire is in your blood or in your heart
I can't tell if your fashion
Is anymore than passion and flame
But take a look before you're burned
Before the fire, be sure you've learned
That better things in life can be with me
So, take a look before you're burned
Before the fire, be sure you've learned
That better things in life can be with me
(c. Steve Cowan, 1975, 2017)
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[This may have been the first song I wrote after moving to California in 1976. I was feeling isolated and lonely, actually longing for the Illinois snows and walks with old friends. Winter was approaching and, although I felt the "warm, warm sun" each day in California, I longed for the warmth of human contact I knew in Illinois. I wrote "New England, oh New England" because a friend of mine from upstate New York was feeling the same way.
I never sang this song for anyone. I took my guitar to a gathering of volleyball friends one night, intent on singing the song later in the evening, but we never got around to it. That was ironic, given the theme of the song.
From a songwriting perspective, I especially like two things about this song. First, there are a lot of internal rhymes ("sing" and "spring", "make" and "break", etc.) that flow easily, even to the point where the first four lines of the bridge don't depend on end-of-line rhymes at all! Second, the final verse is a combination of the first verse and the last two lines of the bridge, which somehow ties the song together.]
One Way Or Another
One way or another, the winters have gone by
The arctic snows have covered me and left me there to die
But one way or another, the sparrows will fly north
And how they sing and beckon spring to bring her blossom forth
Chorus: And when the snows have drifted, those who lifted you are gone
Your giving to survive comes down to taking nature on
When you feel that every blizzard is the worst you ever saw
One way or another you will reach the winter's thaw
New England, oh New England, you're snowed in just as I
Your skies are gray most every day and they wait for you to die
But you have a heart like an old Scotch pine and a spine that will not bend
And I can last as long as you to see the winter's end
Bridge: I was sitting by the window
Watching the frozen lake
Wondering how much warm, warm sun
It takes to make it break right through
And one way or another there will be a warm, warm sun
To take the chill and fill your heart to melt the snows that come
November, cold November, you blew in from the sea
I walked all day and thought about you and who I had to be
But then when I remember what December has in store
Alone in cold November, winter turns her face once more
So, one way or another, the winters have gone by
The arctic snows have covered me and left me here to die
But one way or another, the sparrows will fly north
And how they sing and beckon spring to bring her blossom forth
And one way or another there will be a warm, warm sun
To take the chill and fill your heart to melt the snows that come
To take the chill and fill your heart to melt the snows that come
(c. Steve Cowan, 1977, 2017)
The arctic snows have covered me and left me there to die
But one way or another, the sparrows will fly north
And how they sing and beckon spring to bring her blossom forth
Chorus: And when the snows have drifted, those who lifted you are gone
Your giving to survive comes down to taking nature on
When you feel that every blizzard is the worst you ever saw
One way or another you will reach the winter's thaw
New England, oh New England, you're snowed in just as I
Your skies are gray most every day and they wait for you to die
But you have a heart like an old Scotch pine and a spine that will not bend
And I can last as long as you to see the winter's end
Bridge: I was sitting by the window
Watching the frozen lake
Wondering how much warm, warm sun
It takes to make it break right through
And one way or another there will be a warm, warm sun
To take the chill and fill your heart to melt the snows that come
November, cold November, you blew in from the sea
I walked all day and thought about you and who I had to be
But then when I remember what December has in store
Alone in cold November, winter turns her face once more
So, one way or another, the winters have gone by
The arctic snows have covered me and left me here to die
But one way or another, the sparrows will fly north
And how they sing and beckon spring to bring her blossom forth
And one way or another there will be a warm, warm sun
To take the chill and fill your heart to melt the snows that come
To take the chill and fill your heart to melt the snows that come
(c. Steve Cowan, 1977, 2017)
[Champion was written from two amazing experiences I had about seven years apart. Both were about women I'd seen and wanted to meet. The verses began coming to me on an American River rafting trip while floating through a beautiful canyon. I had this image of "distant fires of one-time lovers" along the cliffs--and how I wanted to be someone's champion. The word "champion" was borrowed from one of Mark Hamby's incredible songs, Gwin.
The bridge (or "break") is from an unbelievable dream I had. I'd casually met a red-haired woman on the University of Illinois campus, but my complete shyness had kept me from asking her out. In the dream she was riding inside a stagecoach pulled by six white horses, racing wildly through an 1800's canyon in slow motion. She was smiling, and the only sound was wind chimes. I had the realization in the dream that she was returning to me, but she had already passed me and was forever receding backwards in time without knowing it! Before leaving Illinois, I traced her down and gave her the lyrics. She was very sweet and very attached to someone else, but the experience was worth a good song.
This is one of those songs that really needed to be done on piano. In fact, while taking piano lessons for a couple months, I worked mostly on this song.]
Champion
Here I can think about you, out here in this hollow
Listen to words of good advice we never follow
But sometimes there will be days when hurting is for no reason
Just trying to change your life to what's more pleasin'
Chorus: I can see your face in the sky's embrace
As the sun sets deep in the canyon
From this rocky ledge I pledge
Let me be your champion
Here there can be no hurry--no one can rush this feeling
Most times stolen hearts are not worth stealing
But patience is not all virtue when heartaches are all that remain
And you're looking for something you can't even try to explain
Chorus: I can see your face in the sky's embrace
I can hear you deep in the canyon
From this rocky ledge I pledge
Let me be your champion
Bridge: And it was years ago when I stood still
And watched your stagecoach down the hill
Wind chimes, lost times filled me till
I knew that one day I would have to follow
Now people say that love is blind
And it can be so hard to find
When others start to fall behind
Champions hold your heart--let me be your champion
Here I am lost in you--here where there are no others
Not even distant fires of one-time lovers
No, here there is only you--a mystery between two heartbeats
We're staking our wildest claims on love so sweet
Chorus: I can see your face in the sky's embrace
As the sun sets deep in the canyon
From this rocky ledge I pledge
Let me be your champion
I can see your face in the sky's embrace
As the sun sets so deep in the canyon
From this rocky ledge I pledge
Let me be your champion
(c. Steve Cowan, 1978, 2017)
[I had begun a new relationship with someone I met in 1982 and thought that she might be the one, but the best part of my efforts turned out to be this song. She was an attorney and registered nurse, and she led a very complicated life. I tried to rescue her from some of life's problems, which is never a good idea, and we drifted slowly apart after she moved to Marin County and became bedridden for six months due to a severe case of poison oak! We agreed that her life was just too complicated.
This is one of only two songs I ever wrote in 6/8 time. It was always difficult to play, but it was still one of my favorites. It changes chords twice in each measure throughout the entire song, and it uses eight or ten chords.
One thing that's unusual about the piece is the long chorus. I also like the fact that the words are different in the middle of the third chorus from the first two choruses--just to add some development and startle the listener.
The song was strummed in the 6/8 time until the last three lines, which are finger-picked and sung softly, as if an afterthought.]
Heartstrings
The winter's upon us, I felt it today
Coming in from the coast like a ghost, old and gray
But the wood has been stacked and awaits your return
While I patiently teach it to burn
There's so much we both have to learn
The winter's a vagabond that's stolen the fall
And the heart is a hero that's fooled by it all
I've given it freedom and even new strings
And it wants to fly off and sing
There's so much, it wants everything
Chorus: New strings for the heart
For a feeling that starts to be
Better than you've ever dreamed of
Has it happened before?
Can you hope that there's more
Than you ever expected would come?
Did you ever expect this would come?
You're in New York City, the nights are so chilled
Your days are so busy and the streets are so filled
Well, I feel such distance from one of your smiles
But I know it's only the miles
There's so much it takes me awhile
Chorus: New strings for the heart
For a feeling that starts to be
Better than you've ever dreamed of
Has it happened before?
Can you hope that there's more
Than you ever expected would come?
Did you ever expect this would come?
New strings for the heart
For a feeling that starts to be
Better than you've ever dreamed of
And whatever it takes
I'll be sure that it makes you feel
Simply amazed what you've done
Did you ever expect this would come?
Did you ever expect this would come?
New strings for the heart (she sings)
Feelings that start (she brings)
Music for heartstrings to hear
(c. Steve Cowan, 1982, 2017)
[When my friends, Ken Allen and Wanda Lee, were planning their wedding in 1985, they asked if I might sing at the reception. I suggested that I write a song for them, and they were surprised and delighted. I asked each of them to write down (secretly) a page with their impressions and thoughts about the other person, and I took ideas from those pages. This song was my gift to them.
It's a fairly simple song in most ways. I loved the melody and the words of the chorus so much that I didn't change anything about it until the very end, where I began a repeat of the chorus but truncated it to have the final line. I should also point out that the song has a key modulation--maybe the only change of key I ever used within a song. Most songwriters stay away from key modulations, because they sound gimmicky, and I almost always agree. But here the modulation occurs in the middle of a line, on the word "found" in the last line of the bridge. It's a surprise when it comes, as it matches the uplifting feeling of realizing that you're getting married.
After the lyrics you'll see a photo of me singing the song at the wedding reception. It may be the only photo ever taken of me while singing solo, and it reveals my unrelenting habit of singing with my eyes closed. The page on the table has the song's lyrics, for I had just finished them that day! You can't see it in this photo, but I'd also taped the chords and some of the lyrics to the top of my guitar. After 32 years, they're still on my guitar!]
I Want To Be The One
It's not so clear to me how love's only bloom
Can come sometimes so fast and leave so soon
But you only have to look at me across a crowded room
That's all you have to do--for love to feel so new
To hold the sweet bouquet of bride and groom
Chorus: Oh, I want to be the one to say, "I love you"
I want to tell you everything's all right
I want to make the starlight shine above you
To give to you to wish upon each night
Hope springs eternal and is lost in the wind
If you ever doubt the feelings that begin
But you only have to say to me how good love has been
That's all you have to do--and all the hope springs true
You're always there to bring it back again
Chorus: Oh, I want to be the one to say, "I love you"
I want to tell you everything's all right
I want to make the starlight shine above you
To give to you to wish upon each night
Bridge: I was never one to worry that love would take its turn
Those who try to hurry hearts get heartaches in return
So each time that I think I've found your heart, there's more to learn
But what I found in you has carried me
And you found it, too, 'cause you married me
Chorus: Oh, I want to be the one to say, "I love you"
I want to tell you everything's all right
I want to make the starlight shine above you
To give to you to wish upon each night
I want to be the one to say, "I love you"
And I want to be the one to say, "I do"
(c. Steve Cowan, 1985, 2017)
[Although it had been years since I'd finished a song, I knew I wanted to write one as a marriage proposal to Suzanne. It turned out to be a much longer song than I'd planned. I'd told her that something was coming for her, and after a couple weeks she was wondering if I'd ever heard of Fed Ex, but she was patient for it to arrive. Of course, I could only work on the song when she was not at home, for we were living together at that time.
The song is the story of our unusual relationship, for we'd first met in 1989 and dated for six weeks, only to stop dating because Suzanne was too busy starting a fashion consulting business. Our last date in 1989 was to see the movie, "When Harry Met Sally." When we met again nine years later in 1998, she was ready to continue our relationship, and we had our second chances. Both times we met while ballroom dancing! Our second meeting was at the Starlite Ballroom, and, thus, the song's reference to starlight.
The night I finished the song we had a candlelight dinner at home , and she had to hold the candle for me to see the words, since I had yet to memorize them. I was nervous that the page would catch fire, so I played my guitar a little faster than the song may have warranted. One last comment about the song--one of my nicknames for Suzanne is "Ace", so that's the reference in the last stanza.
After singing the song as a proposal, I sang the song again twice--once at our wedding reception in Miamisburg, Ohio, and once at the 40th Red Herring Coffeehouse anniversary in Urbana, Illinois. So, come to think of it, I've sung the song in three different states!
The song is noteworthy because of its eight-line verses, where the last four lines of each verse are a different melody and chords than the first four lines. It's almost like having two different sets of verses. I used the same technique in Flower In Bloom in 1975. I especially like the use of the same words ("And as I held you...") at the beginning of each fifth line. Another technique I used, which I really love, is with the three choruses. The first two and a half lines match between the choruses, but the final words of the choruses are unique.]
Second Chances
I wonder how I ever could have found you
Standing there alone that night so free
You were waiting patiently for someone
I asked if you would dance the waltz with me
And as I held you softly
I knew you'd be leaving soon
I could lead you 'round the dance floor
And you could lead me to the moon
But days of bliss turned into weeks of knowing
That maybe it was not the time for you
When Harry had met Sally we were growing
Anxious in our hearts for what to do
And as I held you closely
And we whispered our goodbye
Even though you gave your reasons
I would always wonder why, because....
Chorus: Sometimes when the stars are right and you wish that you had known
Sometimes when the moon is bright and you're watching it alone
You think of all the dances and the partners you let go
And wish that second chances could be so
The years went by, but I had not forgotten
How it felt to dance to our old song
Each time that our paths crossed we were careful
Not to say too much or stay too long
And as I held you safely
In my thoughts, from where I stood
We could search the whole world over
And not find a love so good, because....
Chorus: Sometimes when the stars are right and you wish that you had known
Sometimes when the moon is bright and you're watching it alone
You think of all the dances and the partners you knew when
And wish for second chances once again
So, I wonder how I ever could have found you
Standing in the starlight still that way
I asked you for a dance and you were willing
And suddenly the years all slipped away
And as I held you gently
And I thought about the past
When you wish for second chances
Make them good enough to last, because....
Chorus: Sometimes when the stars are right and you wish that you had known
Sometimes when the moon is bright and you're watching it alone
You think of all the dances and the partners and somehow
You want your second chances to be now
You're the Ace that life has dealt me
You're the place I rest my heart
Will you face the rest of life with me, my love?
(c. Steve Cowan, 2001, 2017)
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[This song has quite a history. It is written about my good friend, Dan Fogelberg. I wrote the first two verses, plus part of the bridge, in about 1978, when he lived in Colorado and I had moved to California. I not only felt a great divide between us, but he had bought a house close to the Great Divide (which had previously been owned by Chris Hillman of The Byrds). Over the years I'd take the song out, but I could never get further. Then a couple months after Dan died (in December, 2007), I finally saw a completely different meaning in the title and decided to finish the song.
After two more verses and a chorus, I sent the words to Dan's wife, Jean, and she pointed out that my third verse had some inaccuracies regarding his days in Durango, Colorado. So, Jean suggested most of the words in the third verse. I polished them up some and am very proud to have shared the writing task with her.
There are several hidden meanings in the words. Titles to no fewer than six of Dan's songs are in the lyrics, including his trademark motto, "Ever On," so there's no doubt that this song is about him. The name of his ranch near Durango was Mountain Bird, and Minstrel was the name of his sailboat in Maine. Also, he toured with The Eagles in the 1970's, and I had written the first line of the bridge right after seeing him backstage at one of their concerts. I also like that the song documents four of the places he lived--Illinois (the grassland plains), near the Great Divide, in the San Juans, and near Penobscot Bay in Maine. Had the song been interminably long, I would have included Laurel Canyon (Los Angeles) and Nashville.
I used a couple songwriting techniques in this song that were common in Dan's songs. I reused the lyrics "a hundred days a year" in the last verse, to connect it with the first verse. And I used a lot of mid-line rhymes, such as "you" and "caribou", "singing" and "ringing". The rhyme scheme, by the way, is fairly unusual (A A B B B), with five lines per verse, rather than the standard four lines.
Finally, I must say that the chorus is one of the best choruses I've ever written, because of its honesty and simplicity. Dan and I were kids when we met, but we thought we were old in our youthful wisdom. We had our years together, and it was quite a ride.]
The Great Divide
Out on the great divide
Out where the snow falls a hundred days a year
Out where you and the caribou are near, and no one knows
No one knows the mountainside
You’ve taken on the great divide
Out
on the grassland plains
Where you learned
from the river how to loveAnd you yearned just to give her stars above, and no one knows
No
one knows the final pains
You
took to leave the grassland plains
Chorus: We
were kids, but we were old
From
all the stories that we told
And
all the tears that we cried
We
had our years; we had our ride
We
had our years; we had our ride
Out
in the old San Juans
Where
the mountain birds are singing in the hills
And
your songs of love are ringing for us still, and no one knows
How
they rise from dusk till dawn
To
circle on, and ever on
Bridge: Last
time I saw you, there were eagles in the sky
And
the raven in the shadows by your side
And
you were looking for a lady to get by
And
then you found the woman of your life
Out
on Penobscot Bay
Out
where the wind blows a hundred days a year
Out
where you and the ocean blue are near, and she will know
As
the Minstrel rides the tide
You’ve
reached the final great divide
Chorus: We
were kids, but we were old
From
all the stories that we told
And
all the tears that we cried
We
had our years; we had our ride
We
had our years; we had our ride
We
had our years; we had our ride
We
had our years; we had our ride(c. Steve Cowan, 2008, 2017)
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[One morning I woke up with the words to the first verse of this song going through my head, and I was humming the melody. At first I thought it was a song I'd heard, and then I realized it was my newest song trying to come out. I'd dreamed that the eagle was flying over our country and was headed for our border, only to fly away forever. It was the first "political" song I'd written in many years.
The song wrote itself fairly quickly. A few things were unusual about this song. First, I begin the third line of three different stanzas with the word "but," which represents some of the conflict in the song. Second, the chorus is repeated word-for-word, which is only true in a couple of my songs, and the final line really works, despite not rhyming with the other three lines. And, finally, the last verse is a repeat of the first three lines of the first verse, giving you the feeling that things are unfinished but headed in that direction.
Although I wrote it in 2009, the words are truer today than ever. I have only shown this song to one person--Ship friend, Billy Panda, who gave me some pointers on the chords.]
The Divided States Of America
An eagle flew above me on its way one day
Majestic in its arc above the land
But he was flying solo as he flew away
And it will take us years to understand
He flew above the red states, and he flew above the blue
He soared above the country to the sea
And holding on to remnants of tradition, tried and true
He left our shining borders to be free
Chorus: We still have our heroes and victories rising from
The words our fathers spoke to everyone
But I look at what we could be and what we have become
The divided states of America
Once the eagle flew above the fruited plains
The amber waves reflected in his eyes
But then we had the courage to believe in change
And then we had the will to compromise
I dreamed I saw the smoke rise in an open field
Where all our petty differences had been
And from the ashes long before our wounds had healed
I dreamed I saw an eagle rise again
Chorus: We still have our heroes and victories rising from
The words our fathers spoke to everyone
But I look at what we could be and what we have become
The divided states of America
An eagle flew above me on its way one day
Majestic in its arc above the land
But he was flying solo as he flew away
(c. Steve Cowan, 2009, 2017)
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[In 1975, I saw one of Jack Nicholson's first movies, The Passenger, by Michelangelo Antonioni, and the story always stayed with me. I wrote the first verse of this song in the early 1980's, but I didn't finish the rest of the song until 2009. Most of it was written on the plane trip back home from Illinois, after playing a Ship reunion concert on WFMT's Folkstage, hosted by my great friend, Rich Warren. The performance had been stellar and very gratifying, and we were even kicking around the idea of doing a new album of Ship songs. So, I was in the songwriting mood, and this song just poured out.
There are several allusions to the movie in this song. Jack Nicholson plays the role of a man without a purpose in life, and he meets up with a young woman whose name is never revealed in the movie. He assumes another man's identity and is obsessed with keeping dates from a black appointment book, even though he doesn't know who he is supposed to meet. The film is beautifully shot by Antonioni, who is famous for his slow pans of dull horizons.
One oddity about this song is that each verse only has three lines, with an extra long third line that symbolizes the slow-developing scenes in the movie. Another unusual aspect is that the second chorus is twice as long as the first, thus giving you a little more information and unraveling some of the mystery.
In the movie, Nicholson changes his identity more completely than he ever anticipates. He evolves from being "a passenger to nowhere" to being a different person altogether. Although the film plods along very slowly, it requires your full attention, and that's what I hoped for this song. Of all my songs, I am probably happiest about this one.]
Passenger
I think of you in August on a Sunday afternoon
Or walking in the sand beneath an orange Mallorca moon
So much I can’t believe that you would have to go away
from me so soon
I followed you in springtime to the gates of San Miguel
And met you in the plaza at the tolling of the bell
The souls of saints were stirring while the demons had
another tale to tell
Chorus: I was a soldier who fought a different war
Looking for something upon a distant shore
You took the ride I offered and you shouted at the sky
You warned me not to love you, and you taught me how to
lie
We set our separate boundaries as we waited for the
setting sun to die
Chorus: I was a soldier who fought a different war
Looking for something upon a distant shore
Nobody knows what the future has in store
I never knew what I was fighting for
A man without a purpose and a girl without a name
A road without direction that we travel just the same
To find the good within us we must choose to play a final
waiting game
You pan the dull horizon and you think about your fate
A passenger to nowhere with a feeling that you’re late
How easy it would be to leave it all behind to keep a
certain date
(c. Steve Cowan, 2010, 2017)
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[As with my song, The Great Divide, parts of this song were written decades apart. I wrote the chorus, including the melody, in the early 1980's, but I didn't try to write the prelude, verses, or bridge until 2010. The song is in 6/8 time (a very fast waltz), and it's one of those songs where the melody came first and grabbed me so much that I was almost forced to write lyrics.
The form of this song is what's so unusual about it. A somewhat slower prelude, with a simple, lilting melody, sets the stage for the first verse, which is faster than the prelude, with more chords and stronger accents. The verses are twice as long as usual. Then there's the chorus, which is ridiculously hard to sing. Each syllable is given an eighth note, so it's sung very fast. The first three lines must be done in one breath, and then, after a very quick breath, the next three lines are also done in a single breath. Finally, a short bridge appears after the second chorus, followed immediately by another chorus.
Although this song was included on The Ship's last full album, we didn't spend as much time on it as we normally would to get a "Ship" arrangement. The last chorus should really take off and increase the anonymity of the characters and the pulse of the fast waltz.
I really like the lyrics in this song, except for the second half of the second verse. Although it says what I wanted to say, the lyrics are not as good as the rest of the song's lyrics. My favorite line--"The band played a slow one, lights dimmed but no one...." To have multiple points of focus in one line is way beyond what I could write in my early songs. Also, “vodka and lime” is a tip of the hat to Simon and Garfunkel, who used the term in their early song, “A Hazy Shade Of Winter.” This is still one of my favorite songs.]
I Was Dancing With You
Prelude: The smell of acacias and sweet summer heat
Arose from your garden and into the street
The tables were set and the drinks were on ice
A night when a vodka and lime would be nice
I moved to the terrace and waited to see
All of the curious suitors to be
You made your appearance and glanced at the guys
You know I could tell by the look in your eyes
You were the belle of the evening
And I was a friend of a friend
You had your eyes on the fine boys
And I couldn't wait for the evening to end
The band played a slow one, lights dimmed but no one
Captured your heart, as they say
They tried to persuade you, then something made you
Turn your attention my way
Chorus: You were pirouetting long before the second
Dance and I was sure that I had lost the chance of
Having you before the evening was through
But when they played a waltz of lovers lost in deep
Romance, you took advantage of the circumstance
Before I knew it I was dancing with you
I was dancing with you
You were the beautiful dream girl
Your old friends were suitably proud
They cast their fortunes in your world
But the music was playing a little too loud
You tried to arrange things, constantly changed things
Hoping to live out your dreams
Follow the grand plan, marry a rich man
Nothing's as sure as it seems
Chorus: You were pirouetting long before the second
Dance and I was sure that I had lost the chance of
Having you before the evening was through
But when they played a waltz of lovers lost in deep
Romance, you took advantage of the circumstance
Before I knew it I was dancing with you
I was dancing with you
Bridge: You know I could tell by the look in your eyes
You wanted to dance away into the night
Chorus: You were pirouetting long before the second
Dance and I was sure that I had lost the chance of
Having you before the evening was through
But when they played a waltz of lovers lost in deep
Romance, you took advantage of the circumstance
Before I knew it I was dancing with you
I was dancing with you
I was dancing with you
I was dancing with you
(c. Steve Cowan, 2010, 2017)
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[In 2005, my great friend, Cecil Germann, ended his own life. I won't go into the reasons, but I knew he was very depressed and was not altogether surprised when it happened. Cec and I were best friends in high school, throughout college, and into our twenties, but our contact in the last 30 years was mostly limited to Christmas greetings and emails. However, Cec had traveled to California to see me in 2002, and I will remember him from that time together.
It took me five years to process Cec's death, but I finally was able to put my feelings about him into a song in 2010. It contains a lot of things about Cec--his uncanny ability to know my thoughts, his constant thirst for the truth in people and religion, and a reference to a coffeehouse called Heather On The Moor, where we had momentous conversations.
The song has a number of points of interest from a songwriting perspective. I think it's the only time I ever wrote six-line verses, with the simple rhyming scheme of A A B B C C. The choruses are unique in that only the second lines differ, but those lines all end with the same word, "sea." That's a subtle development that was intended. And I really love the bridge. It only took a few minutes to write--one of those times when the words just flow.
But the most interesting part of the song is what I do in the last chorus. A second voice would sing the lines that are in parentheses. I had a big dream where Cec and I met again, walked together, were silent with each other as only we could be, and he beckoned me to join him. In the dream I responded to him, "You go on, I'll stay here for awhile." He smiled and walked away. I took that to be our mutual affirmation of life.]
We Were That Way Then
I was driving home one evening, thirty years ago
Settled in a new town without a soul to know
Suddenly I had the clearest thought of what to do
Try to find your number, so I could talk to you
I heard the phone as I unlocked the door
Your voice told me a daughter had been born
Chorus: We were that way then
Closer than the shoreline and the sea
I was there for you and you for me
And that's the way that it would always be
You were always searching for the Buddha or the Christ
You wrote to me from Vietnam and asked me for advise
I told you not to look so hard, that it would come to you
You told me that you couldn't wait, you had too much to do
But both of us had faith that we would know
A better side of life before we go
Chorus: We were that way then
Wiser than the old man and the sea
I was there for you and you for me
And that's the way that it would always be
Bridge: The one thing that I've learned in life is things aren't white and black
And choices in between are not so clear
The one thing that I'd change is I'd somehow bring you back
The world's just not the same with you not here
The last time that I saw you, the years had come and gone
You'd lost your way and found it ever hard to carry on
I'd known you since our teenage years and unrelenting youth
You'd known the best and worst in men, searching for some truth
We laughed and raised a glass to better days
And reminisced about our high school ways
Chorus: We were that way then
(Let the river flow)
Freer than the dolphins in the sea
(Where the flowers grow up to the door)
I was there for you and you for me
(You and I are walking through the heather on the moor)
And that's the way that it will always be
(You turn to me and beckon with a smile)
That's the way that it will always be
(You go on, I'll stay here for awhile)
(c. Steve Cowan, 2010, 2017)
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[This song began as an idle thought while exercising on a recumbent bike in our community's clubhouse one Sunday morning. I thought that maybe I'd write a new song and then said to myself, "Should I write another unrequited love song?" Many of my songs had certainly fallen into that category, but then I realized I suddenly had the title for a new tune.
It's a narrative of two fictitious people who are repeatedly disappointed by relationships in their lives, only to meet each other and be hopeful and anxious about starting again. It's the bridge that really tells what the song is about. Some people find love early in life, some are forever patient while they search, and some accept that it will never happen. It's the people who are repeatedly disappointed who are perhaps most heartbroken.
I like the format of this song, as it develops the story. The first section is about Davey, the second about Sarah, and the third about the two of them meeting. The last section has two extra verse lines and is followed by a different chorus initially and then by the original chorus, with the sad indication that this time will wind up like the others, even though they have similar histories.
Shipmate, Billy Panda, worked on a melody for this, but we decided to set it aside when the group didn't pursue making another album together after 2010. Somehow I always could "hear" a muted banjo played on this, but I guess we'll never know.]
Another Unrequited Love Song
Davey had another plan to win her
He had a way to make her finally see
He told the boys that she'd be his by morning
He said that it was always meant to be
He'd made a reservation down in Tracy
He wore his best suit and a boutonniere
But when he came a-callin' for the lady
They told him, "She's no longer living here."
Chorus: Another unrequited long song
Another love affair suddenly gone wrong
Every time your heart breaks, it doesn't take too long
To sing another unrequited love song
Sarah worked the dayshift at the dry goods
The hours passed more quickly than it seemed
She'd met a man who said that she was special
She told the girls that he was all she'd dreamed
She hurried home that day to start preparing
Put on a dress that she had saved to wear
But when the lonely wait turned into hours
She knew it was the end of that affair
Chorus: Another unrequited long song
Another love affair suddenly gone wrong
Every time your heart breaks, it doesn't take too long
To sing another unrequited love song
Break: Some are meant to find a love before their youth is done
While others only wonder if their chance will ever come
Some are only hoping that the next love is the one
While others settle down to watch the setting of the sun
Davey took his old seat in the barroom
He ordered up a beer and looked around
All the people searching for a lover
Everyone had lost more than they'd found
Sarah sat alone and sipped a white wine
He noticed she was staring far away
He took his drink and asked if he could join her
She gave a little smile and said, "okay"
They ordered up two more and started talking
And somewhere someone sang a melody
Chorus: Another unrequited love song
When you see it in her eyes, nothing can go wrong
But every time you're certain, it doesn't take too long
To sing another unrequited love song
Another unrequited love song
Another love affair suddenly gone wrong
Every time your heart breaks, it doesn't take too long
To sing another unrequited love song
To sing another unrequited love song
(c. Steve Cowan, 2010, 2017)
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[This song had quite an evolution. It's based on a true story told to me by a woman who had met a man when she was very young, moved with him to his home in Spain, and then realized she didn't love him and couldn't easily return home. She did phone her father early one morning, before her boyfriend woke up, from a pay phone in the plaza of the little Spanish town, and that provided such a stark image to me. She then traveled around Spain alone and eventually returned home, older and wiser.
Originally I named the song "The Sun Also Rises," and I included several Hemingway references, but the lyrics evolved over a 30-year period, and I very much like how it turned out. Also until recently, the end of the song was much brighter, but I replaced the last verse with one I'd written many years ago, which provides a wonderful counterpoint to the bridge. It ends with a note of optimism but also a lot of mystery. What will happen to the woman? "Unable to imagine going back" is a line that is filled with ambiguity.
The form in this song is as good as I've ever written. The five verses flow and tell a story, while the chorus is a good summary of the song's theme. The bridge is quite interesting to me, because it's meant to be a moment's realization for the woman, with the hanging bougainvillea and southern breezes surrounding her. You can just picture that scene. And, the bridge contains my all-time favorite rhyme--"bougainvillea" and "you can feel the!" I remember rushing to tell that one to my wife the night I wrote it.
This is the last song I've written, and it's a good one to end with, if there are no more.]
The Streets Of Spain
You phoned your father as the sun was rising
The streets of Spain were wet with rain and ruin
And there you told him honestly, you'd lost your head and couldn't see
Why you were there or what the world was doing
You asked him if he'd send you fare for England
You told him you weren't ready to come home
And he responded honestly that he was rich but nothing's free
So you would have to manage on your own
Chorus: Half a world away from California
Staring at the landscape from a train
All the world to see in Catalonia
Find your fortune in the streets of Spain
You searched the morning crowds for some diversion
You searched your heart for something more to say
You'd met a boy in Old San Juan, who'd brought you to the Catalan
And thought that one day you'd decide to stay
You found him waiting for you in the garden
You tried to tell him you were leaving town
But then he asked you suddenly if you had somewhere else to be
Or maybe you were scared to settle down
Chorus: Half a world away from California
Staring at the landscape from a train
All the world to see in Catalonia
Find your fortune in the streets of Spain
Bridge: Smell the bougainvillea hanging in the square
Stop--and you can feel the southern breezes in your hair
Everything you wanted was just waiting for you there
You took the train that night and crossed the border
The moon was there beside you on the track
You hummed a Spanish lullaby, the mountains rose as you passed by
Unable to imagine going back
Chorus: Half a world away from California
Staring at the landscape from a train
All the world to see in Catalonia
Find your fortune in the streets of Spain
(c. Steve Cowan, 2011, 2017)
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