Land of the Free

 

I am an American—

I believe in liberty.

Of thee I sing, America,

land of the free.

 

This land is my America,

from sea to shining sea—

from the Rocky Mountain majesties

to the beach of Waikiki.

 

This land is my America,

Mississippi to the plains—

miles and miles and miles and miles

of amber waving grain.

 

This land is my America,

from the Lakes down to the Keys,

L.A. to Manhattan—

beacon of democracy.

 

 

Swing the hammer of justice,

ring the bell of freedom,

sing the song of love between

the brothers and the sisters

all over this land.

 

 

This land is my America,

and I hold my freedom dear.

I’ll fight for mine, I’ll fight for yours,

till this world is free from fear.

 

I am an American—

I believe in liberty.

Of thee I sing, America,

land of the free.

Of thee I sing, America,

land of the free.

 

 

 

 

Approaching L.A.

 

Holy smoke, look out below—

roll ’em, action, Geronimo!

 

Six hundred miles an hour through the golden door,

glory burnin’ across the clouds and the engines roar

and the flight attendants pour...

it was time to fly—

lift off out of the nest—

I had to try,

so I’m heading west.

I’m following today,

I’m approaching L.A.—

I’m spellbound by that crazy ray.

 

O superstar, overlord of the blazing zone,

here I come to grab my piece of your fiery throne,

where you heat up the blood of this rolling stone.

Oh what’s been done has been outgrown—

ever since my head became a cone

I’ve only said what must be shown

down here inside the great unknown,

but now I’m goin’ where the tall palms sway:

I’m approaching L.A.

 

 

Holy smoke, look out below—

roll ’em, action, Geronimo!

 

Beyond the mountains and out past the last fault line—

the quake may shake me but I’ve been dyin’ on the vine,

so I come looking for a sign

from the heart

of a soul that’s true—

a sweet upstart

who just might be you.

Rollin’ round Playa del Rey,

we’re approaching L.A.—

it’s rush hour down on the freeway.

 

Take me out where the angels play their home games.

Hand me that scorecard with their numbers and their names.

I want to see for myself who is really as good as they claim

and who’s just squatting in a glittering house of ill fame.

Oh as I go flying on this chariot of flame

I still keep tryin’ to draw the line between guilt and shame,

wonderin’ if I was God where would I pin the blame,

and what I’d make me pay

cause I’m approaching L.A.

 

 

Oh the whale is diving out of the cold—

fasten your seat belts please.

There’s a rough beast arriving in the valley of gold

and he’s swingin’ a ring of keys.

 

 

Holy smoke, look out below—

roll ’em, action, Geronimo!

 

With that hazy skyline risin’ my mind unwinds the scenes:

Watts Towers, Disneyland and those flickering silver screens,

powering my dreams

like the Force,

callin’’ "Come to me"

where star wars

rock the galaxy.

On the waves, where the mermaids go to play,

they’re approaching L.A.—

they’re singin’ ’ "Anchors Aweigh".

 

Ocean of peace, the peace that mystifies—

also known as chaos in disguise,

out here where summer never dies—

oh climb these shores of paradise,

where angels soar and dreamtime flies,

and wash away the hell-bent lies

that the crew of doom will devise.

And that is all I pray

as I’m approaching L.A.

 

 

 

 

Sun Power

 

It makes the wind blow,

it makes the grass grow,

it makes the rainbow,

all for free.

 

It can light our way

to a brighter day,

turn us on to stay

endlessly.

 

Sun power, sun power—

we woke up, looked around,

and there was

sun power, sun power,

making life out of ground.

 

Swingin’ us around you

like a pebble on a string—

sun power,

of thee I sing.

 

 

It makes the days warm,

it makes the clouds form,

over the farms

of the earth.

 

It makes the sky blue,

it was why we grew,

it can lead to

a new birth.

 

Sun power, sun power,

rushing stream of delight—

sun power, sun power,

running clean out of sight.…

 

Swingin’ us around you

like a pebble on a string—

sun power,

of thee I sing.

 

 

Not too hot and not yet cold,

not too young and not too old—

while you shine we’ll mine your kind of gold.

 

 

It makes the earth green,

and in between

it jewels the queen’s

crown of snow.

 

It makes her years turn,

it’s got time to burn—

time for us to learn

how to grow.

 

Oh sun power, sun power,

taking us where you roam—

sun power, sun power,

warming our rolling home….

 

Swingin’ us around you

like a pebble on a string—

sun power,

of thee I sing.

 

 

Not too big and not too small,

there’s a halo of heat ’round your flaming ball—

the wherewithal for a long haul.

 

 

 

 

Praying for Rain

 

I can see you’re mad at me,

way down inside your eyes—

and I hear you trying not to be

as you apologize.

 

Oh let it out and let it in,

get over some of that fear of sin.

You know I’ve done you wrong and done you right,

and that’s how you’ll remember me tonight.

 

Cause we both found out how

trying not to change another

can get to be a strain—

like trying not to change the Lord

when you’re praying for rain.

 

 

Your daddy left when you were four,

and ever since you feel

when anyone walks out that door

there’s nothing left to steal.

 

But you’ve walked out that door yourself since then,

and now even your dad and you are friends.

Oh at the movies when you rested your hand on my arm

I wished that I could keep you safe and warm.

 

But trying not to change another

can get to be a strain—

like trying not to change the Lord

when you’re praying for rain.

 

 

I went back to your open house,

saw you were painting more

scenes of lonely wandering

by that green Iona shore.

But this year you got married to

a man handsome and tall,

who paints his own horizon lines,

so straight and spiritual.

 

 

I see you where the walls turn red

on a Roman afternoon,

and with the stars around your head,

dancing on the moon.

 

That seahorse earring that slipped off your ear

now swims in unknown seas—

but when the moonlight wiggles on the waves

can you feel again how beauty saves the day?

 

Though trying not to change another

can get to be a strain—

like trying not to change the Lord

when you’re praying for rain.

 

 

 

 

The Girl Next Door

 

Well if you ever met a gal like Mary Ann,

you know how she tags you with her red hot brand.

Just to see her comin’ fills you up with dread—

one evening in the summer this is what she said:

 

she said “Rule Number One is gentlemen

don’t act so nice when they don’t want to be friends.

You gotta keep control of the messages you send

or you might make an enemy whose hatred never ends.

 

Ah through the woods, dark and deep,

you go searching for Sleeping Beauty’s bed.

Well she was waiting for you asleep

but the Big Bad Wolf woke her up instead.”

 

 

Well if you ever met a gal like Mary Ann,

you know how she tags you with her red hot brand.

Just to see her comin’ fills you up with dread—

one evening in the summer this is what she said:

 

she said “Rule Number Two is gentlemen

do not make love when they just want to be friends.

You don’t go forward if you can’t go to the end,

cause you might break a heart that you cannot mend.

 

Yes I know you don’t care if she’s poor,

you don’t care who her parents are—

all you want is the girl next door,

long as she’s played by a movie star.”

 

 

I’ll seek out the Hesperides,

pick from their golden apple trees,

and when I roll those apples past

you’ll follow them and come in last.

 

 

Well if you ever met a gal like Mary Ann,

you know how she tags you with her red hot brand.

Just to see her comin’ fills you up with dread—

one evening in the summer this is what she said:

 

“You don’t want to obey the rules, well break ’em, if you can.

You think that you’ll escape, but you will join the caravan.

And now I see so perfectly how it all fits the plan:

you could never love a woman who would have you for her man.

 

Cause you don’t care if she’s poor,

you don’t care who her parents are—

all you want is the girl next door,

long as she’s played by a movie star.”

 

 

 

 

The Truth It Burns

 

The story was old,

and everyone saw,

but it had to be told

in the voice of the law.

 

When Rodney saw blues

he turned and took flight—

he lit the fuse

and went chasing the night.

 

But there was no way

to get out of that beam—

he had to pay

at the feet of the team.

 

The truth it burns more than fire—

it can make anyone into a liar.

 

 

The judge said “L.A.,

they’ve made up their mind,

so you’re gonna have to move away

because justice is blind.”

 

The cop said “That’s why

you carry a gun—

cause you’re gonna die

if they get you on the run.”

 

The jury said “Man

who don’t lie down still

when he hears the command

may be treated ill.”

 

The truth it burns more than fire—

it can make anyone into a liar.

 

 

The throw it hit squarely—

a brick to the head—

so if he’s still alive he’ll

wish he was dead.

 

The looter said “Don’t

you get in my way—

I need what I want

and it’s free today.”

 

The storekeeper said

“All my life’s in my store—

and I’ll shoot them dead

because this is war.”

 

The truth it burns more than fire—

it can make anyone into a liar.

 

 

Now Rodney’s been paid,

and that battle is done,

but the war’s just delayed—

it has never been won.

So if you and the jury should disagree

on what can be doubted reasonably,

tell me what was the doubt

that set O.J. free?

 

 

The chief said “It’s simple:

the problem with crime

is too many criminals

who are not doing time.

 

You put ’em away—

don’t ask what it costs—

cause they’ve got to pay

for what you have lost.”

 

The Crips and the Bloods

are acting like friends.

Mayor says “Let’s rebuild

and let’s make amends.”

 

They say on the news

family values are key—

that’s what you should choose

because you are free.

 

The truth it burns more than fire—

it can make anyone into a liar.

 

 

 

 

Roger’s Gone

 

He died in the spring—

one day he was gone.

He was the kind of a man

you think’ll go on and on.

 

Everybody loved him,

even his enemies,

and his memory will return

like the leaves to the trees.

 

Roger’s gone where the wind don’t blow.

He’s passed on whatever he had to show.

He’s passed on a part of his soul to me.

Oh I wish that part was as big as his heart,

but we all will take what we can carry.

 

 

Oh he played Santa Claus,

and he filled up that suit.

With a kid pullin’ on his beard

he sure did look cute.

 

In his cabin up north,

where he took his friends,

Elvis was king

in a kingdom that never ends.

 

Roger’s gone where the wind don’t blow.

He’s passed on whatever he had to show.

He’s passed on a part of his soul to me.

Oh I wish that part was as big as his heart,

but we all will take what we can carry.

 

 

Roger’s lying in his grave—

the birds are singing on his tombstone.

Roger’s lying underground,

and he has left us here on our own.

 

 

I can see him now,

slouchin’ down to doze—

sayin’  “I used to sleep under the jeep”

while a game plays on the radio.

 

Oh he smoked too much,

stuffed himself to the brim,

and the pictures he took of us

still show how we looked at him.

 

Roger’s gone where the wind don’t blow.

He’s passed on whatever he had to show.

He’s passed on a part of his soul to me.

Oh I wish that part was as big as his heart,

but we all will take what we can carry.

 

 

 

 

O God

 

When the sea revealed the shores

the fish crawled in...to dinosaurs.

Then humankind arose,

and so onward it goes.

 

O God, you got it together

far out in our future.

O God, who grows in being divined—

O God, you’re a question of time.

 

 

If Jesus Christ said “Let us hate”

in heaven’s name who’d swallow that bait?

But he had to catch our ear—

he sounded very near.

 

O God, you’re the gold we go for

when we forgo war.

O God, who proves what’s wrong with crime—

O God, you’re a question of time.

 

 

John Lennon said imagine there’s no heaven up above:

heaven’s down among us here—if you want a name call it love.

But when he said live for today, and let tomorrow go…

well, I’ll forget tomorrow up above but remember it here below,

cause when you plant a seed you want to see it grow.

 

 

Among the worlds among the stars

there must be other life than ours,

converging on the place

where we’ll meet face to face.

 

O God, you’re the mystery

of how love can be.

O God, show your heart through mine—

O God, you’re a question of time.

 

 

 

 

Seed of Paradise

 

Last night, when you were out of town,

I was putting some old pictures in a book.

Saw one o’ you up on a big rock lookin’ down,

and I thought about a few we never took…

 

underneath the moon

in a red canoe,

singin’ that old tune

that we almost knew,

 

or when our sailboat soared

through the thunderstorm—

it blew us overboard

but the water was warm.

 

Now the garden that we planted’s growing wild,

where we used to sit and read.

When you picked up a robin’s egg and smiled,

you planted that shot in me like a seed.

 

Gardens grow and gardens fade,

and the crimson flower of new love dies,

but underground the love we made

leaves a seed of paradise.

 

 

Do you remember our first date—

on the floor, no seats, just a big stuffed burlap sack?

The Wild Child went on a little late,

and whenever I hear that song they played I go dreaming back...

 

how we stopped that car

on a country road,

dancing to “Light My Fire”

while the dashboard glowed.

 

In a stream of melting snow

we swam naked and free

on the high plateau

of Yosemite.

 

Now the garden that we planted’s growing wild,

cause nature smiles on every seed.

So as the weather once again grows mild,

I wait to watch the slow stampede.

 

Gardens grow and gardens fade,

and the crimson flower of new love dies,

but underground the love we made

leaves a seed of paradise.

 

Bumblebees come gatherin’ their nectar now—

they drift from bloom to bloom.

Worms go wrigglin’ round reviving roots and shoots,

weavin’ life on nature’s loom.

Worms below,

bees above—

they go with the flow,

they don’t care about love.

Whatever you planned

they obey their one command:

diggin’ down or buzzin’ on a trail of sweet perfume,

crawl and fly, turnin’ winter’s tomb into spring’s womb.

 

 

Up late at camp we talked about God’s grace,

with the kids in bed and the stars above snow white,

and though I was coming from another place

our ancient signs and symbols intertwined like roots that night.

 

Four inches of foam

from the old thrift store—

we brought that mattress home,

laid it on the floor.

 

First we lit a fire,

right beside the bed—

flames were climbin’ higher,

logs were glowin’ red.

 

Now the garden that we planted’s growing wild,

where the hummingbirds still feed.

On the wind I hear the calling of a child…

I kneel down and pull a weed.

 

Gardens grow and gardens fade,

and the crimson flower of new love dies,

but underground the love we made

leaves a seed of paradise.

 

 

 

 

Naomi’s Eyes

 

Well the superintendent was sobbing—

his guns went off by themselves—

but he’s learned to believe that Santa Claus

was betrayed by his renegade elves,

 

and Medusa she’s got a new boyfriend—

they’re engaged in the firefly dance—

he signs his checks Prince Ulysses

but the nymphs call him Rosencrantz.

 

All the world’s a stage—

you gotta act your age…

and I still see Naomi’s eyes—

shining darkly, Naomi’s eyes.

 

 

There’s a prayer meeting down by the hangin’ tree,

where the blood runs into the sand,

and the preacher who whips the horses

says it’s orders from the High Command,

 

while back east the big man is talking—

interrupt and he’ll cut out your tongue.

Life is soft on top of the mountain

but the eruption has begun.

 

All the world’s a stage—

you gotta act your age…

and I still see Naomi’s eyes—

shining darkly, Naomi’s eyes.

 

 

They say that the eyes show the way to the soul—

I look in those eyes and fall down a hole...

they throw you that glance—

it goes in like a lance

and something goes out of control.

 

 

Well Iris thought love was forever

in that house with the ocean view—

she was wed in a Maytime in Paris,

when her dreams were too good to be true,

 

and Randolph was high on the shoulders

of the team that he led to the cup,

till one Monday he learned how to worry

that everything might go down that went up.

 

All the world’s a stage—

you gotta act your age…

and I still see Naomi’s eyes—

shining darkly, Naomi’s eyes.

 

 

 

 

Voodoo Doll

 

Voodoo doll, you’re pinned down

in the valley of the shadow where the grass is growin’ green upon the ground.

Voodoo doll, don’t delay—

cause the clouds are gettin’ redder and the shadows gettin’ longer every day.

 

With the music playing,

the wind begins to blow—

even the palms start swaying,

dancing so slow.

 

Voodoo doll, you move fast—

you just got up off the ground before the sky got overcast.

Voodoo doll, you fly free

on those wings that have been shapin’ up through all of history.

 

At the soda fountain,

those lips around that straw,

you climbed every mountain

I ever saw.

 

Voodoo doll, look below—

where but for the grace of God you too would go.

Voodoo doll, hear that sound—

it’s the wigglin’ of the worm who’s comin’ wrigglin’ up from underground.

It’s the wigglin’ of the worm who’s comin’ wrigglin’ up from underground.

 

 

 

 

Wild Blue

 

In the afternoon, when the music rose

to the rafters and through the nave,

on the other side of the shadows

I caught your wave.

You looked and smiled,

beguilingly true,

and I put my life on the line

out here with you.

Now hold on tight

cause we’re off tonight

into the wild blue.

 

O God, our help if ages blow

their own selves off the earth,

pull out your sword

and cut this cord—

bring that baby forth!

Open our eyes

to newborn skies…

you can do this birth—

get through this birth:

O God,

come through.

Now hold on tight

cause we’re off tonight

into the wild blue.

 

 

 

All songs by David Bishop © 2005  All-around Music