Hey little Bird

Hey lil bird come away with me

We’ll fly so high, in the coloured sky

If you’d come away with me

But you say you cannot go

Your wings you have not tried

And you’re so afraid, so afraid, so afraid to fly

But you’ve got to come away, away with me

Hey lil bird the things that we will see

The islands turn to amber 

With the changing of the leaves

We’ll soar above the Rockies

And cut through the mountain pass

Reach the eastern shore with beach

of coloured glass

But you’ve got to come away, away with me

Hey lil bird oh, the places we will go

The salt flats Saskatchewan 

in June they look like snow

Oh and we will chase the sunset 

Around the westward bend

Where the ocean meets the skyline

And the road comes to an end

But you’ve got to come away, away with me

Hey lil bird 

can’t stay on my window pane

Frozen like a picture 

Captured in a frame 

The great big world outside 

Will pass you anyway

So spread your wings and fly

But come back again someday 

Pray for Rain 

He said Stand in the field where you pray for rain. The magic’s in the doing so just do it again

And one day soon, there’ll be storms and then

Stand in the field and pray for rain”

When the words you write feed hungry mouths

When the words don’t come your belly fills with your self doubt

He said forgive me but I’ve often felt the same

Just stand in the field and pray for rain

Some days out here you’ll question the toil

You glare at the seeds and you’ll curse at the soil

And you’ll see failure in those dusty lanes

Just stand in the field and pray for rain

There beneath the diesel and the dust

Shows the wear and the well-earned rust

Those old gears can take the strain

So stand in the field and pray for rain 

Write all your lines drunk and edit them sober

But like asking a child what he’ll be when he’s older

We hardly know what’s in tomorrow’s refrain

So stand in the field and pray for rain

Some days out here you’ll question the toil

You glare at the seeds and you’ll curse at the soil

And those old gears can take the strain

Just stand in the field and pray for rain

So stand in the field and pray for rain.

Chasing Light

I remember the day I got my first camera

Felt like no one could see the things I saw

I lived in the moment cause in a moment

The shot would be gone

Climbing on rooftops to capture the sunset

Shoot four rolls of film just to see what I’d get

Staying up late to catch dewdrops

Glistening at dawn

Oh and we’re chasing light

Round all the corners and through the dark of night

‘Till the end of our last days

We’re chasing light

I remember the day I forgot what today was

Always seeking tomorrow, (oh) because

Happiness and fulfillment

Were just round the bend

Chasing a job or the next big promotion

A bigger garage just to fit one more car in

A platinum card and a gold watch

But no time to spend

Oh and we’re chasing light

Round all the corners and through the dark of night

‘Till the end of our last days

We’re chasing light

I remember the day I realized I’d gone gray

And wishing for tomorrow turned to wishing for yesterday

Time marches on and in my case,

It left me behind

Now I’m looking at tattoos from places I’ve been

Looking at photos but there’s none that I’m in

Live for today and I promise

Tomorrow won’t mind

 Oh and we’re chasing light

Round all the corners and through the dark of night

‘Till the end of our last days

We’re chasing light

Oh and we’re chasing light

Round all the corners and through the dark of night

‘Till the end of our last days

We’re chasing light

never Tire of the road

I was just a small town country boy

When I left that dusty town

Route 66 to the westward

And I hopped an old freight down

California, here I come

By the side door pulling and my sunburnt thumb

And they called us okies, lowdown bums

While they looked us up and down

Never tire of the road

Never tire of the rolling wheel

Never tire of the ways of the world

Way out yonder is a-calling

And the dark road leads me onwards

And the highway, that's my code

And that lonesome voice that I heard in my head said

Never tire of the road

California to the New York islands, me and my guitar

And I played in many a hobo jungle, many a skid row bar

Standing out in the wind and the rain

That lonesome whistle is a sweet refrain

When you're waiting on some old freight train

That carries an empty car

[Chorus]

Don't ever let them fool you

Or take you by surprise

The dirty smell of the politician

Or the man with the greed in his eyes

They'll rob the poor and stain the land

The blood of many is on their hands

So united we must stand 

For the cause that never dies

[Chorus]

Mccarthy’s

I was fresh-faced and my picture barely worn,
My name tag still had sheen.
He walked right in, and brushed right past,
Barely acknowledged me.
But he knew the name of that new mom,
This was generation number four.
He delivered them with his two hands,
And then he shuffled out the door.

Before he reached the hallway
he turned back to seek my name.
“A daughter of the Emerald Isle”
 he proudly did proclaim.
The sternness of the stranger
that stood in front of me,
Melted into smiles and
the sounds of shuffling feet.

It’s been five years ago or more
But by his standards I’m still new.
He’d call and ask for the “singing nurse”
And then offer me a tune.
He’d quote the “Ballad of the White Horse”
And say “The Great Gaels of Ireland are the ones that god made mad,
For all their wars were merry,
And all their songs were sad”

He made me promise that I would one day
Put those words inside a tune.
But the news that he’d passed suddenly
Left me reeling and consumed.
The only words that came to mind were
“The ones that god made mad,
For all their wars were merry
And all their songs were sad”

I’ll hold your spot at Shannon’s
Have a pint and raise a glass
The legendary stories told of you
Are the kind that are built to last.
And I’ll hold dear the memories
of the moments that we had.
For all the wars you fought were merry
And all the songs you sang were sad.

helicopers & bombardiers

Hot streets, bald tires

Snowy mountains and forest fires

Gravel shoulders, gravel voice

Good decision for a bad choice

Easy drivin’, headed west

Couple guys in orange vests

Road’s closed up ahead

Turn around as the sky turns red

Hairpin turns and shifting gears

Helicopters and bombardiers

Only 20 miles to Invermere

Played the Ironwood night before

Had to sleep on the sound guy's floor

Just give me one, easy day

Things don’t always go that way

Mountain town evacuees

(Now) valley bound refugees

Single lane backed up for days

Can’t see the mountains for the haze

Hairpin turns and shifting gears

Helicopters and bombardiers

I don’t think we’re getting outta here

Long nights, déja vu

Guess it’s just that thing we do

Bad coffee and painted lines

And finding poetry in highway signs

Another story from the road 

Another town, another show

Taking songs as souvenirs

Of Helicopters and bombardiers