WA2K Radio is now on the air

Good morning, dys. Well, cowboy, I most certainly did NOT know that, buddy. Like your MA song.

and, folks, I thought Roberta did this one, but I guess I was wrong again:

Burt Bacharach
I Say A Little Prayer For You


The moment I wake up
Before I put on my make up
I say a little prayer for you
While combing my hair now
And wond'ring what dress to wear now
I say a little prayer for you

Forever, and ever you'll stay in my heart
And I will love you
Forever, and ever we never will part
Oh, how I love you
Together, forever, that's how it must be.
To live without you
Would only mean heartbreak for me

I run for the bus, dear
While riding I think of us dear
I say a little prayer for you
At work I just take time
and all through my coffee break time
I say a little prayer for you

Forever, and ever you'll stay in my heart
And I will love you
Forever, and ever we never will part
Oh, how I love you
Together, forever, that's how it must be.
To live without you
Would only mean heartbreak for me

I say a little prayer for you

I say a little prayer for you

My darling, believe me
For me there is no one but you
Please love me too
I'm in love with you
Answer my prayer
Say you love me too

"Loves Me Like A Rock"

When I was a little boy
And the devil would call my name
I'd say "Now who do...who do you think you're foolin'?"
I'm a consecrated boy
A singer in a Sunday choir

Oh Mama loves me, she loves me
She get down on her knees and hugs me
Oh she loves me like a rock
She rocks me like a rock of ages
Oh loves me
She love me, love me, love me, love me

When I's grown to be a man
Hmm, and the devil would call my name
Say "Now who do...who do you think you're foolin'?"
I'm a consummated man
I can snatch a little purity

My Mama loves me, she loves me
She get down on her knees and hugs me
Oh she loved me like a rock
She rocked me like a rock of ages
She loves me
She love me, love me, love me, love me

If I was the President
Hmm, and the Congress call my name
I'd say now "Who do...who do you think you're foolin'?"
I've got the Presidential Seal
I'm up on the Presidential Podium

Mama loves me, she loves me
She get down on her knees and hugs me
Oh she loved me like a rock
She rocked me like the rock of ages
She loves me
She love me, love me, love me, love me

She love me, love me, love me, love me
She love me, love me, love me, love me
Wo wo
Na na na na na na na
Oo oo
Loves me like a rock
Loves me like a rock
Rocks me like a rock, oh baby
Loves me like a rock
Loves me like a rock, la la la la la la
Loves me like a rock of ages
Loves me like a rock
Loves me like a rock, oh baby
Loves me like a rock
Rock me like a rock of ages
Loves me like a rock
Loves me like a rock
Rock me like a rock of ages
Loves me like a rock

Wow! Welcome back O wonder dog. Know that song, and really like it.

Thanks, George.

Well, folks, Letty must go vote her conscience, and of all things my area is at a methodist church. What does this tell us?

Station break:

This is cyberspace, WA2K radio.

Well, listeners, I now wear a football paste on that says: "I Voted."

Quite surprised at how sparse the turn out was, but it may be because so many voted early.

For some reason, I feel as though this is what courage is about:

Oh, Woody!

In school they made us sing it every morning like the sun
And the words just ran together 'til it ended up as fun
All the images forever captured by an Oklahoma son
That could be the biggest thing a man has ever done

Oh, Woody, you were past it by the time that I was born
And your Huntington's disease had left you frail and mute and torn
Already bound for glory, a million thoughts, a thousand songs
Already passed to legend by the day that I was born

You were Oklahoma's son, but in the end belonged to no one
Sign painter, singer, sailor, soldier, bum
Both a father and a child, a fascist-fighting, union man
Writing songs and poems for everyone

Well the Dust Bowl couldn't stop you, nor could the bulls in the railroad yards
You found thousands of your people under bridges and in boxcars
Opportunity in everything you saw
A chance to turn a witnessing into another song

Yeah you were Oklahoma's son, but in the end belonged to no one
Sign painter, singer, sailor, soldier, bum
Both a father and a child, a fascist-fighting union man
Writing songs and poems for everyone

Sure in later years you staggered drunk, disabled, rambling on
There's so much in your short life and work to cherish and pass on
And though abridged, lightweight covers of our songs are all we see
Still I know this land was truly made for you and me

So every time I sing that song to the old or to the young
I insert the "Private Property" verse like I know you would have done
And I bow my head to greatness, make sure they know who you were
And that's the greatest gift I got from Oklahoma's son
That could be the greatest gift from Oklahoma's son
And that could be the biggest thing a man has ever done

--George Mann---

The lady Diane and I are now off to vote.

Good, and please don't vote for an anarchist, dys and Di.

I have to smile, folks. Someone told me that GOP meant God's Own Party.

I no longer believe that there is much difference in the two. We no longer have any statesmen.

Here's one, folks, by a kid who rocks:


Kid Rock
» Only God Knows Why

I've been sittin here
Tryin to find myself
I get behind myself
I need to rewind myself
Lookin for the payback
Listen for the playback
They say that every man bleeds just like me
And I feel like number one
Yet I'm last in line
I watch my youngest son
And it helps to pass the time
I take too many pills it helps to ease the pain
I made a couple of dollar bills, but still I feel the same
Everybody knows my name
They say it way out loud
A lot of folks (bleep) with me
It's hard to hang out in crowds
I guess that's the price you pay
To be some big shot like I am
Out strecthed hands and one night stands
Still I can't find love

And when your walls come tumbling down
I will always be around

Yeah
As it...hey

And when your walls come tumbling down
I will always be around

People don't know about the things I say and do
They don't understand about the (bleep) that I've been through
It's been so long since I've been home
I've been gone, I've been gone for way too long
Maybe I forgot all things I miss
Oh somehow I know there's more to life than this
I said it too many times
And I still stand firm
You get what you put in
And people get what they deserve
Still I ain't seen mine
No I ain't seen mine
I've been giving just ain't been gettin
I've been walking that there line
So I think I'll keep a walking
With my head held high
I'll keep moving on and only God knows why

Only God
Only God
Only God knows why, why, why, why
Only God...knows...why, why, why
Only God knows why
Take me to the river edge
Take me to the river, hey hey hey

There were no anarchists on the ballot so I had to vote straight communist party.

Good morning WA2K.

Wishing a Happy 69th Birthday to Mary Travers and 63rd to Joni Mitchell.

http://www.derbydeadpool.co.uk/images/celebs/travem.jpg[/IMG]

Ah, I'm so sorry, dys. So, I guess you are a card carrying creative cross-over, then.

I was thinking about opera today, folks, and haven't listened to one person sing Une Belle Di. from Madam Butterfly. I read that there was a very famous soprana from Canada who was outstanding with all the arias.

Anyway, here are the English lyrics:

One fine day we'll notice
A thread of smoke arising on the sea In
the far horizon,
And then the ship appearing;
Then the trim white vessel
Glides into the harbour, thunders forth her cannon.
See you? Now he is coming!
I do not go to meet him. Not I! I stay upon
the brow of the hillock, And wait there... and wait for
a long time, But never weary
of the long waiting.
From out the crowded city There is coming
a man, a little speck in
the distance, climbing the hillock.
Can you guess who it is?
And when he's reached the summit,
Can you guess what he'll say?
He will call: ``Butterfly'' from the distance.
I, without answ'ring, Hold myself
quietly conceal'd,
A bit to teaze him and a bit so as not to die
At our first meeting; and then, a little troubled
He will call, he will call:
``Dear baby wife of mine,
Dear little orange blossom!''
The names he used to call me when he came here.
[to Suzuki]
This will all come to pass as I tell you.
Banish your idle fears, For he will return
I know it.

My word, folks. While we were singing opera, our Raggedy appeared with Mary Travers and Joni Mitchell. Now I will have to do another search for Mary. (it's a grand old name.)

Thanks, again, PA. Great photo's, as usual.

You know, all, I read somewhere that Madame Butterfly was a stereotyping opera. I will have to find that bit of info as well.

My word. Peter, Paul, and Mary. Great trio, and I am sorry that I had to go to the archives to recall this folk song, folks.

IF I HAD A HAMMER (The Hammer Song)
words and music by Lee Hays and Pete Seeger

If I had a hammer
I'd hammer in the morning
I'd hammer in the evening
All over this land
I'd hammer out danger
I'd hammer out a warning
I'd hammer out love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land

If I had a bell
I'd ring it in the morning
I'd ring it in the evening
All over this land
I'd ring out danger
I'd ring out a warning
I'd ring out love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land

If I had a song
I'd sing it in the morning
I'd sing it in the evening
All over this land
I'd sing out danger
I'd sing out a warning
I'd sing out love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land

Well I've got a hammer
And I've got a bell
And I've got a song to sing
All over this land
It's the hammer of justice
It's the bell of freedom
It's the song about love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land

PROGRAM NOTES FOR MADAMA BUTTERFLY

"Madama Butterfly had its premiere at La Scala on Feb. 17, 1904. Given that his previous three operas, Manon Lescaut, La Boheme, and Tosca had been successes, it must have come as quite a shock to Puccini that Butterfly was a flop. It was more than a flop; it was a complete fiasco, with a degree of audience hostility rarely seen in an opera house, even in Italy.

It is still not clear why Butterfly was such a failure at its premiere. The overly long second act has been blamed (for the second performance that May in Brescia--a success this time--Puccini divided the second act into two). Other theories have to do with the excessive "Japanese" character of the score, toned down for the second performance, as well as the completely contrary idea that Butterfly's music sounded too much like that of Boheme and Tosca for the audience's taste. However, Ernest Newman in his book Great Operas opines that the opposition was organized by Puccini's rivals.

Whatever the reason for its original failure, the revised version of Butterfly went on to become one of the most frequently performed of all operas. It might be given even more often but for the difficulty in finding a soprano with an adequately mature voice to cut through Puccini's lush orchestration and at the same time sufficiently young-looking to play the part of a fifteen-year-old girl.1 But one either loves Butterfly or hates it, apparently. In a poll conducted by the magazine Opera News a number of years ago readers were asked to vote for their favorite and least favorite operas. Madama Butterly scored near the top in both polls!

It's interesting that in virtually all Puccini operas the protagonist is a woman; this is in contrast, say, to Verdi whose central characters may be either male (Ernani, Rigoletto) or female (La Traviata, Aida). Doctoral dissertations have been written on the reason for this with the usual dissertation result--nobody really knows. But Puccini was definitely a ladies' man, renowned for his love affairs, so perhaps he was just writing on his favorite subject!

From the early 1900's until fairly recently it was fashionable to regard Puccini as a second-rate composer, definitely inferior to Verdi. He was criticized, inter alia, for his over-sentimentality and his rudimentary skill in orchestration. More recently a different view of Puccini's skills has emerged. His insistence on choosing highly dramatic libretti (as distinguished, say, from Verdi's melodramatic libretti like Il Trovatore and Rigoletto) is now widely recognized. And after a century or so of suffering with the many musical "isms" --chromaticism, serialism, minimalism, etc.-- the opera-going public has become delighted with works whose tunes can actually be hummed and whose chords are truly consonant. So Puccini has come into his own as one of the great opera composers, ranking along with Verdi in the Italian Pantheon.

Newman has pointed out how hard Puccini worked to make Butterfly authentically Japanese. He read a great deal about Japanese customs and got hold of some fragments of Japanese music, attempting to work these into the score. But a number of inaccuracies crept into the text anyway. These include the name of the Butterfly's would-be suitor Prince Yamadori. (Japanese given names ending in the letter i tend to be feminine). Also, Chocho san's renunciation by her family for her conversion to Christianity does not ring true at all. Japanese are quite tolerant of other religions. More likely Chocho san would have been renounced for getting involved with a foreigner, with no regard to religious issues. In that case her relatives would not have been attending the wedding ceremony near the beginning of Act I. And the Japanese character of the music is probably no more realistic than is the Egyptian character of the music in Aida. Composers manage to suggest a foreign land by introducing a little chromaticism, a few atypical cadences and some unusual dotted rhythms into an otherwise conventional score. "

And Raggedyaggie says: Who cares? I love it.

I saw Renata Tebaldi perform it (many years ago) so she will always be my favorite Butterfly.

Wow! Thanks for that background, Raggedy. I especially like your ending comment. Okay, so Puccini revised it to make the characters true to the real and honorable Japanese counterparts. Great.

Haven't seen satt around, or he would either confirm or deny the info.


Un bel dì, vedremo
levarsi un fil di fumo sull'estremo
confin del mare.
E poi la nave appare.
Poi la nave bianca
entra nel porto, romba il suo saluto.
Vedi? È venuto!
Io non gli scendo incontro. Io no. Mi metto
là sul ciglio del colle e aspetto, e aspetto
gran tempo e non mi pesa,
la lunga attesa.
E... uscito dalla folla cittadina
un uomo, un picciol punto
s'avvia per la collina.
Chi sarà? chi sarà?
E come sarà giunto
che dirà? che dirà?
Chiamerà Butterfly dalla lontana.
Io senza dar risposta
me ne starò nascosta
un po' per celia e un po' per non morire
al primo incontro, ed egli alquanto in pena
chiamerà, chiamerà:
Piccina mogliettina
olezzo di verbena,
i nomi che mi dava al suo venire.
[to Suzuki]
Tutto questo avverrà, te lo prometto.
Tienti la tua paura, io con sicura
fede l'aspetto.

Good morning, don't forget to vote.

JOE COCKER -
Joe Cocker/N'Oubliez Jamais

Papa, why do you play
all the same old songs
Why do you sing
with the melody
'Cause down the street
something's goin' on
There's a new beat
and a brand new song

He said:
In my life, there was so much anger
Still I have no regrets
Just like you, I was such a rebel
So dance your own dance, and never forget

N'oubliez jamais
I heard my father say
Every generation has its way
a need to disobey

N'oubliez jamais
It's in your destiny
a need to disagree
when rules get in the way
N'oubliez jamais

Mama, why do you dance
to the same old songs
Why do you sing
only the harmony

Down on the street
Something's goin' on
There's a new beat
and a brand new song

She said:
In my heart there's a young girl's passion
for a life long duet
Someday soon
someone's smile will haunt you
So sing your own song and never forget

N'oubliez jamais
I heard my father say
Every generation has its way
a need to disobey

N'oubliez jamais
It's in your destiny
a need to disagree
when rules get in the way
N'oubliez jamais

What is this game
searching for love or fame, it's all the same
one of these days you say that love will be the cure
I'm not sure

N'oubliez jamais
I heard my father say
Every generation has its way
a need to disobey

N'oubliez jamais
It's in your destiny
a need to disagree
when rules get in the way
N'oubliez jamais

Try, that's a great song, buddy. Hmmmm. They say that an elephant never forgets. <smile>

An elephant never forgets, forgets, An elephant never forgets, my friend. An elephant never forgets, forgets, An elephant never forgets. He has a list of things to do He never writes them down. He hops into his little car And drives around the town. He goes for paint at Mac's and then It's on to Mr. Woo's, And there he buys some stocking caps For little kangaroos. He goes to the cleaners to pick up his shirts And then he stops for tea, And after that he buys some cakes To serve his company. He hurries home to start the roast And straightens up the hall. The doorbell rings, the guests arrive And then he greets them all. There's Michael and Mona from Old Barcelona And Sammy and Spencer and Sean, And Donny and Dahlia from Sydney, Australia And Antoinette, Alice and John. There's Polly & Payton & Ollie from Dayton And Theo & Cleo & Juan. He welcomes them in and the party begins And continues till everyone's gone.

Love it!

Famous Blue Raincoat

It's four in the morning, the end of December
I'm writing you now just to see if you're better
New York is cold, but I like where I'm living
There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening.
I hear that you're building your little house deep in the desert
You're living for nothing now, I hope you're keeping some kind of record.

Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear
Did you ever go clear?

Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older
Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder
You'd been to the station to meet every train
And you came home without Lili Marlene

And you treated my woman to a flake of your life
And when she came back she was nobody's wife.

Well I see you there with the rose in your teeth
One more thin gypsy thief
Well I see Jane's awake --

She sends her regards.

And what can I tell you my brother, my killer
What can I possibly say?
I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you
I'm glad you stood in my way.

If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me
Your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free.

Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes
I thought it was there for good so I never tried.

And Jane came by with a lock of your hair
She said that you gave it to her
That night that you planned to go clear --

Sincerely, L. Cohen



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sing Another Song, Boys

(Let's sing another song, boys, this one has grown old and bitter.)
Ah his fingernails, I see they're broken,
his ships they're all on fire.
The moneylender's lovely little daughter
ah, she's eaten, she's eaten with desire.
She spies him through the glasses
from the pawnshops of her wicked father.
She hails him with a microphone
that some poor singer, just like me, had to leave her.
She tempts him with a clarinet,
she waves a Nazi dagger.
She finds him lying in a heap;
she wants to be his woman.
He says, "Yes, I might go to sleep
but kindly leave, leave the future,
leave it open."

He stands where it is steep,
oh I guess he thinks that he's the very first one,
his hand upon his leather belt now
like it was the wheel of some big ocean liner.
And she will learn to touch herself so well
as all the sails burn down like paper.
And he has lit the chain
of his famous cigarillo.
Ah, they'll never, they'll never ever reach the moon,
at least not the one that we're after;
it's floating broken on the open sea, look out there, my friends,
and it carries no survivors.
But lets leave these lovers wondering
why they cannot have each other,
and let's sing another song, boys,
this one has grown old and bitter.


Leonard Cohen

Good morning all, my it's quiet in here.
Oh, how I remember…

The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down
Original Lyrics written by J. Robbie Robertson

Virgil Caine is the name and I served on the Danville train
'Til Stoneman's cavalry came and tore up the tracks again
In the winter of '65, we were hungry, just barely alive
By May the tenth, Richmond had fell, it's a time I remember oh so well

The night they drove Old Dixie down and the bells were ringing
The night they drove Old Dixie down and the people were singin', they went
La-la-la la-la-la, la-la-la la-la-la, la-la-la-la

Back with my wife in Tennessee, when one day she called to me
"Virgil, quick, come see, there goes Robert E. Lee!"
Now I don't mind choppin' wood, and I don't care if the money's no good
Ya take what ya need and ya leave the rest
But they should never have taken the very best

The night they drove old Dixie down and the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down and all the people were singin', they went
Na-na-na na-na-na, na-na-na na-na-na, na-na-na-na

Like my father before me, I will work the land
And like my brother before me, who took a rebel stand

He was just eighteen, proud and brave
But a Yankee laid him in his grave
I swear by the mud below my feet
You can't raise a Caine back up when he's in defeat

The night they drove old Dixie oown and the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down and all the people were singin', they went
Na-na-na na-na-na, na-na-na na-na-na, na-na-na-na

Good morning, WA2K radio listeners and contributors.

edgar, as usual, your Leonard Cohen songs are cryptic, but beautiful. Thanks Texas.

Thought that I would play this unusual song this morning. It's not particularly a happy one, just intriguing.

Let me weep
Let me weep over my cruel fate,
And that I long for freedom!
And that I long, and that I long for freedom!
Let me weep over my cruel fate,
And that I long for freedom!


Let me weep over my cruel fate,
And that I long for freedom!
And that I long, and that I long for freedom!
Let me weep over my cruel fate,
And that I long for freedom!


Lascia ch'io pianga
Lascia ch'io pianga la dura sorte,
E che sospiri la libertà!
E che sospiri, e che sospiri la libertà!
Lascia ch'io pianga la dura sorte,
E che sospiri la libertà!

Lascia ch'io pianga la dura sorte,
E che sospiri la libertà!
E che sospiri, e che sospiri la libertà!
Lascia ch'io pianga la dura sorte,
E che sospiri la libertà!

Sarah Brightman

My word, Try. You drove through old Dixie, and I didn't even hear you. Thanks, buddy. You're up early this morning. Big smile! Have some coffee.

Why, thankee kindly Ma'm. Was it…

Yesterme Yesteryou Yesterday?
Stevie Wonder Lyrics

What happened to the world we knew
When we would dream and scheme
And while the time away
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday

Where did it go that yester glow
When we could feel
The wheel of life turn our way
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday

I had a dream so did you life
Was warm and love was true
Two kids who followed all the rules
Yester folls and now

Now it seems those yester dreams
Were just a cruel
And foolish game we used to play
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday

When I recall what we had
I feel lost I feel sad with nothing but
The memory of yester love and now
Now it seems those yester dreams
Were just a cruel
And foolish game we had to play

Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
Sing with me
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
One more time.....