1. |
WYATI
06:09
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WYATI
words and music by Dave Perkins
2017 Dreambox (ASCAP)
I thought I knew you—turns out I was right to be so wrong
I was looking straight through you—thought you were here but you had gone
I’ve heard some fine formulations—ten ways to prove you’re real
But they don’t prove nothing—can’t even count on what you feel
WHATEVER YOU ARE THAT IS (x3)—I THANK YOU
The less said the better—descriptions rattle like iron fetters
I call your name and I write these letters—no reply
The party’s over, bring the lights up—for the last dance with the idea
I put my sail up, put my thumb out—hitchhike home on the via negativa
WHEREVER YOU ARE THAT IS (x3)—I THANK YOU
Searching for something, someone—one to give my thanks
Intoxicated with gladness—from the wine of life I drank
The less said the better—those words they rattle like iron fetters
These children waiting for your cards and letters—It’s been a while
WHOEVER YOU ARE THAT IS (x3)—I THANK YOU
I called to the hills—sang out to the sea,
Finally I took it to someone who loved me
Emptied my heart, gave up my song—all she could do was pass it along
I hope you got it. I hope you heard it. I hope you got it. I hope you heard . . .
WHEREVER YOU ARE THAT IS
WHATEVER YOU ARE THAT IS
WHOEVER YOU ARE THAT IS----I THANK YOU
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2. |
Spit Shine The Wrold
05:10
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SPIT SHINE THE WORLD
Words and Music by Dave Perkins
2021 Dreambox (ASCAP)
VERSE ONE:
Little brick box, on the road out of town
not much left to see, not much to be found
'cept the house of Jess Malone, he's everybody's man
flying ninja daggers with a shoeshine rag in hand
33 years, two blocks from the river
In the downtown parade of the takers and the givers, singing
You got shoes, I got shoes, all God's children got shoes
when I get to heaven gonna walk all around
dance all over these blues
VERSE TWO:
Three-piece suits and judges, make yourself at home
climb up in the chair, be a king upon a throne
bit 'o spit on the toe, the artist autograph
Rag drumming out a code, like an old time telegraph
what can one soul do to straighten out the crooked lines
Holding onto something his mama said sometimes, said . .
You got shoes, I got shoes, all God's children got shoes
when I get to heaven gonna walk all 'round
dance all over these blues
BRIDGE:
I was just a boy, with my father hand in hand
Walking downtown, taking in the sights and sounds
Dad said, "Dave, listen to the man, singing out his song
Like it can't be wrong, he’s spreading it around."
VERSE THREE:
"I wanna see your smile on the toes of those boots."
Like a mirror!" Sargent says. "First you shine then you shoot!"
Like the legend Ira Hayes, hero in the war
Jess gets/comes home to find, he's no one's hero anymore
But there's always something left, something right to fight
So, raise the hue and cry, or a cup to warm the night
You got shoes, I got shoes, all God's children got shoes
when I get to heaven gonna walk all 'round
dance all over these blues
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3. |
Can't Stop The Rain
03:46
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Can’t Stop The Rain
Words and music by Dave Perkins
Dreambox / ASCAP 1992
You were the one, who was there
You were the wind at my back, blowing me across the cracks that fall to nowhere
You were sun on my life, you were warm against the pain
It was you all along, it was you that knew that I can’t stop the rain
You worked the lever, you were the rudder
Through the immortal years, when I could do it all, I thought I would live forever
You were cover in the wars, it was all your sense of aim
Any day I found my way, it was you that knew that I can’t stop the rain
Tsunami streets sweep away the king’s clothes
Standing naked means nothing in a ghost town
But when the levee breaks, you’ll know
You were sun in my life, you were warm against the pain
It was you all along, it was you that knew that I can’t stop the rain
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4. |
Trees of Haddonfield
06:34
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Trees of Haddonfield
Words and Music by Dave Perkins (July 4, 2014)
Dreambox (ASCAP)
Christmas was the hook we hung the year on
The one and only day you could count on
Windows sweat from the oven’s heat, mom sang and the air was sweet
Streetlamps lit the snow—the night was cold but who would know
Chapel church bells pealed
In the trees of Haddonfield
____________________________________________________________
Three kings, camels and sheep in the neighbors’ yard
While shepherds watched their flocks by night, Dot and Bill cut cards
Then we heard the word—a star fell down
Said an angel’s gone to ground
Christmas never came
Carol singers stayed away
A thief in shadow steals
Through the trees of Haddonfield
_______________________________________________________________
Sandy was the first to go, the first to catch our breath away
The first time the shadow passed so close
In a muscle car whose bones were soft
Just a cardboard box with its top torn off
Broken on the wheel
The fragile flesh revealed
Serpent struck her heel
And the trees of Haddonfield
______________________________________________________________
The 4th of July blew on by like an ambulance
Nothing more to say, summer staggered away in a dog-day trance
No use watching for a wise men’s star
The one that tells you where you are
But, that’s the one you never see
Down below the canopy
(Where) You keep your secrets sealed
‘neath the trees of Haddonfield
________________________________________________________________In the November rain, they’ll hang big candy canes along King’s Highway
Brass in hand, the salvation band on the corner will play
“Sleep in heavenly peace . . . ”—All you loves that lay buried in songs
All you names made famous with guitars and rhymes
Who we call to again and again across time
As if what’s gone can rise
As if the love survives guarded like a shield
By the trees of Haddonfield
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5. |
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6. |
Too Late To Say
05:15
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Too Late to Say
Words and Music by Dave Perkins
Dreambox (ASCAP) 2018
Last night she comes down the stairway of dreams
Light as a falling feather
Down to the bed where the love was all said
And where we called down the stormy weather
It’s too late to say---all the words that remain, that sill do not fade
Too late to tell---all the truth left untold when we went our ways
“We were kind of crazy then” was a song we would sing
A tune we would sing to the moon
But crazy was just a cover for the sadness below
A new coat of paint for a room
It’s too late to tell---all the truth left untold when we went our ways
It’s too late to say---all the things that remain, that never do fade
Come let me show you where a promise goes to die
Maybe you care, maybe you don’t
And maybe there we’ll pledge again our sacred vow
When you said, “Honey I won’t change . . . if you won’t”
I should have known to dance while the music played
But that’s the trouble when you’re calling the tunes
It’s one thing to know how the melodies go
And another to hear what rings true
Rings of gold, rings of silver, rings of smoke in the air
It’s too late to care---‘cause the night ain’t no friend
It’s too late to sing---with the old songs that play again and again
It’s too late, too late---but I can’t let it go
It’s too late to say---but I’ll try anyway . . . just so you know
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7. |
Mist of Time
05:30
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Mist of Time
Words and Music by Dave Perkins
(Copyright 2008; Dreambox/ASCAP]
Riding on the wind in a dream
We were all travelers then
Who for a brief moment shared a scene
‘fore heading down the road and round a bend
Staked out on a farm in Georgia
We were calling in souls to make a band
She appeared one dewy morning
Drove in with a steel guitar man
Station wagon packed to the windows
She cradled an infant child
We all gathered round like wise men
Who read their future in her sacred smile
I wish I knew, I wish I knew, I wish I knew what happened to you
You’re standing in the mist of time
She and the steel guitar man
They may have had a past
But I could see no chains of love binding them
They might stay but they would not last
There was something sad in her
And that was beauty’s perfect foil
I imagined I could be the one to make her glad
That I could help her find her joy
Maybe I misread the signs
Maybe I was staring at the sun
She seemed in the market for a savior
I thought I was the chosen one
I wish I knew, I wish I knew, I wish I knew what happened to you
You’re standing in the mist of time
I don’t recall her name,
Can’t even remember her face
I just remember how I felt when I saw it
some kind of haunted, wounded grace
She is but a footnote in my story
Just one note in a song
But, one note leads to another
So, to each other we all belong
Riding on the wind in a dream
We were all traveling then
She and I for a brief moment shared a scene
Before she headed down the road and round a bend
I never knew, I never knew, I never knew what happened to you
You’re standing in the mist of time
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8. |
Beautiful City
05:37
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Beautiful City
Words and Music by Dave Perkins
August 2015 Dreambox (ASCAP)
I see the beautiful city rising
Brick by brick, stone by stone, living breathing body, bone by bone
I see the beautiful city rising
Sometimes you glimpse it in the distance—the place they said could not exist
Now I’m pushed on by a vision I can’t resist
With workers who are worthy—I’ve come to lend a hand
‘cause I see the beautiful city
I see the beautiful city rising, rising
Brick by brick, stone by stone, living breathing body, bone by bone
I see the beautiful city
Twelve gates to the city—wide open
To welcome the weak, forgotten, and the broken
Lift up your heads you ancient doors
Be lifted up for hope and peace evermore
I see the beautiful city
I see the beautiful city, rising
Brick by brick, stone by stone, living breathing body, bone by bone
I see the beautiful city rising
Come, let’s build together—the blueprints and plans
Passed down from the prophets into our hands
We’ll build it side by side
Scratch our names on the foundation for our children to find
When they’re building their beautiful city
I see the beautiful city, rising
Like an arrow shot true—like a prayer finally breaking through
I see the beautiful city rising
Like a banner, like a fanfare rising like desire—holy fire
Brick by brick, stone by stone, living breathing body, bone by bone, bone by bone
I see the beautiful city rising
I see the beautiful city rising —rising—rising . . .
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9. |
Throwaway People
06:39
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Throwaway People
Words and music by Dave Perkins
Dreambox (ASCAP) 2014
Just for the summer—one more clear-skin volunteer
Back again in August for the senior year
They called it chasing rainbows—building castles in the sky
But some angels will fly low for those the world leaves behind –the throwaway people
Campus gone quiet—nighttime lovers on the lawn were gone
All our friends were leaving—she’d not go along
Not to the seaside—not bike across France
Far off something called to her—called to her to dance—with the throwaway people
Could have been a queen—maybe a star
Paraded into rooms—famous for charm
She left behind choices—forgot about plans
Cashed out on the privilege a name commands—for the throwaway people
Bridge:
Noble of virtue, wiser than years
Higher above me in rare atmospheres
Soup lines and ladles—army cots for cradles
Sister of mercy—giver of grace
To touch what no one wants to touch—embrace what few would hold
To see those who cannot be seen—in her heart she made a home—for throwaway people
The golden wheel keeps turning, turning—passing by the unlucky and the rejected
Threshing fields of beauty, like some great machine
Wounded by progress, left out in the rain
The golden wheel keeps turning, and it treats us all the same
. . . like throwaway people
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10. |
Three Marys
06:54
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Three Marys
Words and Music by Dave Perkins
Dreambox (ASCAP) 2019
A twist of the kaleidoscope
Gave up something new
Ragged figure on the tree line
Shift from green to blue
Across the stony field she ran
Barefoot with cried goodbyes
That field we’d scratched our future on
God Cotton as the prize—Three Marys
She caressed him with oil of patchouli
Sister hates the scent
But he liked it plenty
So, sister must repent
The girls had a brother down in Macon
Whose luck had come undone
Although down and out he was given a stake
A fresh stack of chips in the game—Three Marys . . .
Madeleine and Mary the mother
And, the other the mother of Jack
The sister of Martha and Laz
Who heard his name called and came back
They’re all gone but the ghost lives on
Ragged figure on the tree line at dusk
You’re never quite sure if the figure is for real
It’s hard to know who to trust
Madeleine came like a sailor
In a barque without oars or sail
From St Simon up to Atlanta
With the ghost haunting her trail
Madeleine made for pleasure
A cosmos of skin and sweet breath
Her hair random and wild
And with a passion stronger than death
She cried when her boy got stabbed in the side
Caught on the wrong side of town
So, like a mother she took in the wounded
And that’s why the stories went around
She saw in me something worth saving
After all she had seen how it’s done
She gathered us in, she gave us all names
Made of me something between a lover and a son
They’re all gone but the ghost lives on
A ragged figure on the tree line at dusk
You’re never quite sure if the figure is for real
It’s hard to know who to trust—Three Marys . . .
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11. |
The Pearl
06:41
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The Pearl
Words and Music by Dave Perkins
Dreambox (ASCAP) 2014
When I was a young man, I ran with the kings
Drank deep from the glory proximity brings
Making a name was all I could see
And that one day the pearl would be handed to me
I took pleasure in freedom, took pleasure in youth
I took what came easy and I took that for truth
Never a question ‘bout my destiny
One day the pearl would be handed to me
She was a flower in the Tennessee hills
With uncommon powers and innocent skills
I told her my secrets and my victories
And how one day the pearl would be handed to me
Seasons blew over like pages from a book
She brought beauty all around me, when I remembered to look
‘Cause I was busy watching for the promise, the old prophecy
That one day the pearl would be handed to me
I worked to be worthy, I strove to get right
I climbed holy mountains like a mad Nazarite
To deliver a letter, a reminder you see
That one day the pearl would be handed to me
A prospector’s weakness is scratching for gold
In a way it don’t matter if the vein’s long gone cold
Smashing my mirror was the last vanity
Always thought I was a pilgrim, instead I am a refugee
A shelter, a compass, a map when you’re lost
A traveler’s comfort, she too knew the cost
Never did she say it never would be
That one day the pearl would be handed to me
One morning in sunlight I laid down my load
Lingered and turned and I looked back down the road
With the eyes of a blind man who suddenly sees
That the questions and answers have always agreed
Both for the pilgrim and for the refugee
For the man with no kingdom who had long held the key
She, she was the pearl that was handed to me
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12. |
That Old Time Feeling
04:22
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That Old Time Feeling
By Guy Clark
Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc
And that old time feelin' goes sneakin' down the hall,
Like an old gray cat in winter, keepin' close to the wall.
And that old time feelin' comes stumblin' up the street,
Like an old salesman kickin' the papers from his feet.
And that old time feelin' draws circles around the blok,
Like old women with no children, holdin' hands with the clock.
And that old time feelin' falls on it's face in the park,
Like and old wino prayin' he can make it 'till it's dark.
And that old time feelin' comes and goes in the rain,
Like an old man with his checkers, dyin' to find a game.
And that old time feelin' plays for beer in bars,
Like and old blues-time picker who don't recall who you are.
And that old time feelin' limps through the night on a crutch,
Like an old soldier wonderin' if he's paid too much.
And that old time feelin' rocks and spits and cries,
Like and old lover rememberin' the girl with the clear blue eyes.
And that old time feelin' goes sneakin' down the hall,
Like an old gray cat in winter, keepin' close to the wall.
And that old time feelin' comes stumblin' up the street,
Like an old salesman kickin' the papers from his feet.
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Dave Perkins Tennessee
Dave Perkins' musical journey crisscrosses the map of American music. As guitarist, he played bluegrass and swing with
Vassar Clements, renegade-country with Jerry Jeff Walker, singer-songwriter pop with Carole King, Americana with Guy Clark, blues-jazz with violinist Papa John Creach, alt-rock with Chagall Guevara, industrial hard-core with Passafist, and a video performance with Ray
Charles.
... more
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