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Well, I just went to the archives to locate Richard Farina and discovered that I know nothing of the man. Very odd life, cowboy.



Wonder who did this worry song?

It's all over now and I don't worry,
There's nothing that time won't erase.
It's all over now and I don't worry,
Still I yearn for that smile on your face.

That is as much as I can remember.

Chuck Berry
Carol

Oh, Carol, don't let him
Steal your heart away
I'm gonna learn to dance
If it takes me all night and day

Climb into my machine
So we can cruise on out
I know a swinging little joint
Where we can jump and shout

It's not too far
Back off the highway
Not so long a ride
You park your car
Out in the open
You can walk inside

A little cutie takes your hat
And you can thank her, maam
Every time you make the scene
You find the joint is jammed

Oh, Carol, don't let him
Steal your heart away
I'm gonna learn to dance
If it takes me all night and day

And if you wanna hear some music
Like the boys are playing
Hold tight, pat your foot
Don't let em carry it away

Don't let the heat overcome you
When they play so loud
Oh, don't the music intrigue you
When they get a crowd

If you can't dance
I know you wish you could
I got my eyes on you, baby
Cause you dance so good

Oh, Carol, don't let him
Steal your heart away
I'm gonna learn to dance
If it takes me all night and day

Don't let him steal your heart away
I've got to learn to dance
If it takes you all night and day

I don't know that "worry" song, Letty, but here's Bob Dylan's song, which I love to hear Joan Baez sing.

You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last.
But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast.
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun,
Crying like a fire in the sun.
Look out the saints are comin' through
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense.
Take what you have gathered from coincidence.
The empty-handed painter from your street
Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets.
This sky, too, is folding under you
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home.
Your empty-handed armies, they are going home.
The lover who just walked out your door
Has taken all his blankets from the floor.
The carpet, too, is moving under you
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

Leave your stepping stones behind, there's something that calls for you.
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you.
The vagabond who's rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore.
Strike another match, go start anew
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

Hey, edgar. Thanks for the Chuck song, Texas. Ah, I know how to dance, and don't get the chance. <smile>

Raggedy, Great lyrics by that Dylan man. Hmmm. "Leave your stepping stones behind" reminded me of this oldie:



(i'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone


by Tommy Boyce & Bobby Hart

I-I-I-I-I'm not your steppin' stone
I-I-I-I-I'm not your steppin' stone
You're trying to make your mark in society,
You're using all the tricks that you used on me,
You're reading all them high-fashion magazines,
The clothes you're wearing, girl, they're causing public scenes.
I said, I-I-I-I-I'm not your steppin' stone
I-I-I-I-I'm not your steppin' stone (No!)
Not your steppin' stone
Not your steppin' stone
SOLO
When I first met you, girl, you didn't have no shoes,
But now you're walking 'round like you're front page news,
You've been awful careful 'bout the friends you choose,
But you won't find my name in your book of "Who's Who".
I said, I-I-I-I-I'm not your steppin' stone (No, girl, not me!)
I-I-I-I-I'm not your steppin' stone (No!)
Not your steppin' stone
I'm not your steppin' stone
SOLO
Not your steppin' stone
Not your steppin' stone
Not your steppin' stone
Not your steppin' stone
No, girl, I'm not your steppin' stone
Not your steppin' stone
Not your steppin' stone
Not your steppin' stone
(fade out)

hope you are all having a good sunday afternoon !
this was mrs h's favourite song after we returned from six weeks in texas in the spring of 1979 .
hbg

MARTY ROBBINS : A WHITE SPORT'S COAT ...
-------------------------------------------------------
A white sport coat and a pink carnation
I'm all dressed up for the dance.
A white sport coat and a pink carnation,
I'm all alone in romance.

Once you told me long ago, to the prom with me
you'd go, now you've changed your mind,
it seems someone else will hold my dreams.
A white sport coat and a pink carnation,
I'm in a blue, blue mood.

Hey, hamburger. My young friends just left, and they are both feeling a little better. They have been so good to help me with computer stuff.

I like that Marty Robbins song, Canada, but I had no idea that he did it. Thanks for the reminder.

In searching out Count Basie music, folks, I happen to run across this one in our files. Perfect for today, too. I call this one a medium jazz swing song.

Lambert Hendricks And Ross

I heard me a sermonette. Have you heard it yet?
With that soulful message that you won't soon forget
It tells about real true love people lost sight of
through their sinful livin' and scornin' Heaven above

It tells you to love one another, To feel that each man's your brother
Live right, 'cause you know that you reap (just) what you sow
And so to have no regrets, and to find what you're missin,
Bow your head and listen to this sermonette

letty :
glad your young friends were able to help you .
reminds me of the ad on TV . mother : "my 3 1/2 year old daughter knows more about the computer than i " . :wink:

here is a marty robbin song i probably sang loudly (but not very well ) as we were driving towards 'big bend national park' in 79 .
hbg

Artist: Marty Robbins
Song: Devil woman
Album: Devil Woman
[" Devil Woman " CD]

EL PASO
Marty Robbins
- words and music by Marty Robbins

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl
Nighttime would find me in Rosa's cantina
Music would play and Felina would whirl

Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina
Wicked and evil while casting a spell
My love was deep for this Mexican maiden
I was in love, but in vain I could tell

One night a wild young cowboy came in
Wild as the West Texas wind
Dashing and daring, a drink he was sharing
With wicked Felina, the girl that I loved

So in anger I challenged his right for the love of this maiden
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore
My challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor

Just for a moment I stood there In silence
Shocked by the foul evil deed I had done
Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there
I had but one chance and that was to run

Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran
Out where the horses were tied
I caught a good one, it looked like it could run
Up on its back and away I did ride
Just as fast as I could from the West Texas town of El Paso
Out to the badlands of New Mexico

Back in El Paso my life would be worthless
Everything's gone; in life nothing is left
It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden
My love is stronger than my fear of death

I saddled up and away I did go
Riding alone in the dark
Maybe tomorrow a bullet will find me
Tonight nothing's worse than this pain in my heart
And at last here I am on the hill overlooking El Paso
I can see Rosa's Cantina below
My love is strong and it pushes me onward
Down off the hill to Felina I go

Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys
Off to my left ride a dozen or more
Shouting and shooting, I can't let them catch me
I have to make it to Rosa's back door

Something is dreadfully wrong, for I feel
A deep burning pain in my side
Though I am trying to stay in the saddle
I'm getting weary, unable to ride

But my love for Felina is strong and I rise where I've fallen
Though I am weary, I can't stop to rest
I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle
I feel the bullet go deep in my chest

From out of nowhere Felina has found me
Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side
Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for
One little kiss, then Felina good-bye

hamburger, know that one as well, Canada. Didn't Marty die while still quite young? (with his boots on, and with that big iron on his hip, I hope )

As Robert Frost would say, knowing how way leads to way:

Big Iron

To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day
Hardly spoke to folks around him didn't have too much to say
No one dared to ask his business no one dared to make a slip
for the stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip

It was early in the morning when he rode into the town
He came riding from the south side slowly lookin' all around
He's an outlaw loose and running came the whisper from each lip
And he's here to do some business with the big iron on his hip
big iron on his hip

In this town there lived an outlaw by the name of Texas Red
Many men had tried to take him and that many men were dead
He was vicious and a killer though a youth of twenty four
And the notches on his pistol numbered one an nineteen more
One and nineteen more

Now the stranger started talking made it plain to folks around
Was an Arizona ranger wouldn't be too long in town
He came here to take an outlaw back alive or maybe dead
And he said it didn't matter he was after Texas Red
After Texas Red

Wasn't long before the story was relayed to Texas Red
But the outlaw didn't worry men that tried before were dead
Twenty men had tried to take him twenty men had made a slip
Twenty one would be the ranger with the big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip

The morning passed so quickly it was time for them to meet
It was twenty past eleven when they walked out in the street
Folks were watching from the windows every-body held their breath
They knew this handsome ranger was about to meet his death
About to meet his death

There was forty feet between them when they stopped to make their play
And the swiftness of the ranger is still talked about today
Texas Red had not cleared leather fore a bullet fairly ripped
And the ranger's aim was deadly with the big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip

It was over in a moment and the folks had gathered round
There before them lay the body of the outlaw on the ground
Oh he might have went on living but he made one fatal slip
When he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip

yes , letty ; he was only 57 when he passed away .
mrs h "was all shook up " - she really liked his voice and the tunes he sang .
hbg

...MARTY ROBBINS...

I suspect that this song has already been played. I was in my truck on Saturday and heard Johnny Cash sing "Paradise" written by Roger Prine.

Wow, edgar. Thanks for the Hawaiian song and translation. Fantastic, Texas. and, hamburger, thanks for the bio, buddy. <smile>

Hey, John of Virginia. I see you know music after all. Couldn't find Paradise, but I did find this one by the Man in Black:

Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down:

Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing.
Then I headed down the street,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing,
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.

I am sorry, Letty, for sending you down a wrong path. The song I was referring to is "Paradise." Written by JOHN Prine, and in the version I heard, sung by Johnny Cash.
Paradise was the place we grew up at, but in this song, Mr Peabody's coal trains hauled it away.

haven't heard the Man in Black sing Paradise, either, but rjb's description reminds me of this song by Joni Mitchell--which even Bob Dylan recorded once.

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They took all the trees
Put 'em in a tree museum
And they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to see 'em

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Hey farmer farmer
Put away that DDT now
Give me spots on my apples
But leave me the birds and the bees
Please!

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Late last night
I heard the screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi
Took away my old man

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got
Till it's gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot

Goldfinger
He's the man, the man with the Midas touch
A spider's touch

Such a cold finger
Beckons you to enter his web of sin
But don't go in

Golden words he will pour in your ear
But his lies can't disguise what you fear
For a golden girl knows when he's kissed her
It's the kiss of death ...

From Mister Goldfinger
Pretty girl, beware of his heart of gold
This heart is cold

Golden words he will pour in your ear
But his lies can't disguise what you fear
For a golden girl knows when he's kissed her
It's the kiss of death ...

From Mister Goldfinger
Pretty girl, beware of his heart of gold
This heart is cold
He loves only gold
Only gold
He loves gold
He loves only gold
Only gold
He loves gold



A happy anniversary to Dame Shirley Bassey! (70 on January 8.)

Oops, John of Virginia. I was the one that goofed, I'm afraid. No wonder I couldn't find those lyrics. I'll look again.

Well, my goodness, folks. Here is our turtle man back again. You and J.M. still in Sedona, M.D.?

Loved your song by Joni. I am always getting Joan and Joni confused, but I feel level headed now with a glass of white wine.

Here ya go, Virginia John:


Song: Paradise
Album: John Prine


When I was a child my family would travel
Down to Western Kentucky where my parents were born
And there's a backwards old town that's often remembered
So many times that my memories are worn.

Chorus:
And daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County
Down by the Green River where Paradise lay
Well, I'm sorry my son, but you're too late in asking
Mister Peabody's coal train has hauled it away

Well, sometimes we'd travel right down the Green River
To the abandoned old prison down by Adrie Hill
Where the air smelled like snakes and we'd shoot with our pistols
But empty pop bottles was all we would kill.

Repeat Chorus:

Then the coal company came with the world's largest shovel
And they tortured the timber and stripped all the land
Well, they dug for their coal till the land was forsaken
Then they wrote it all down as the progress of man.

Repeat Chorus:

When I die let my ashes float down the Green River
Let my soul roll on up to the Rochester dam
I'll be halfway to Heaven with Paradise waitin'
Just five miles away from wherever I am.

Repeat Chorus:

Yes, it seems that no one cares about our land any longer.

Letty, JM & YW are indeed back from Sedona, where the land hasn't all been turned into resorts yet. Seems like a good time to play Woody Guthrie's folk anthem, complete with some generally suppressed lyrics towards the end:

This land is your land This land is my land
From California to the New York island;
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and Me.

As I was walking that ribbon of highway,
I saw above me that endless skyway:
I saw below me that golden valley:
This land was made for you and me.

I've roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts;
And all around me a voice was sounding:
This land was made for you and me.

When the sun came shining, and I was strolling,
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling,
As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting:
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people,
By the relief office I seen my people;
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking
Is this land made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

Wow! I don't believe it, folks. There's our Walter with a theme from James Bond. Welcome back, Germany. Did you bring Kurt and Konrad with you? Thanks for the reminder of Sean, buddy.

Yes, Turtle. That's the perfect song for an imperfect world. We have one high rise here, and to tell you the truth of it, it mars the ocean view. There are a couple of condos on our golf course, but nothing too dramatic.

Frost knew it, too:

The Gift Outright

The land was ours before we were the land's.
She was our land more than a hundred years
Before we were her people. She was ours
In Massachusetts, in Virginia,
But we were England's, still colonials,
Possessing what we still were unpossessed by,
Possessed by what we now no more possessed.
Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.
Such as we were we gave ourselves outright
(The deed of gift was many deeds of war)
To the land vaguely realizing westward,
But still unstoried, artless, unenhanced,
Such as she was, such as she would become.

-- Robert Frost

I am just passing through here, but I would like to suggest that these are some rather strange lyrics: "...(T)he air smelled like snakes and we'd shoot with our pistols but empty pop bottles would all we would kill."

And this:
I remember seeing Robert Frost attempting to read that poem at the inauguation of a President. But the sun was in his eyes, and he was very old and frail. The soon to be new president came to his aid. Anybody else remember that image?

No poet should EVER read his own poetry, RJB. That was really sad watching RF read that poem.

Carl Sandburg tried to read his own as well and it was terrible.