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Songs For Sapiosexuals
...urbane wit and heartfelt, life-affirming essence.
Cabaret Scenes
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Swinging on a Gate I'm swingin' on a gate Swingin' on a gate Swingin' forward, swingin' back I'm a swingin' maniac! Swingin' ... The sun's a lemon thumbprint in a swimming pool sky. I'm scattin' with the neighbors as they mosey on by. I'm closin' eyes and wishin' I could take off and fly-- Swingin' on a summertime gate. I'm swingin' on a gate Swingin' on a gate Swingin' this way, swingin' that-- Hypnotizin' next-door's cat Swingin' ... The hinges are a-squeakin', and the pickets go slam, A far-off bell's a-ringin' on the dingaling tram A skippin' rope, a hummingbird and bumblebee jam, Swingin' on a summertime gate. I'm swingin' on a gate Swingin' on a gate Swingin' left and swingin' right, Swingin' wide and swingin' tight, Swingin' ... Just me, the gate, the screen door, the recycling bins. When I'm swingin', no one loses, nobody wins. The morning stretches: nothing ends and nothing begins, Swingin' on a summertime gate. I'm swingin' on a gate Swingin' on a gate Swingin' east and swingin' west, Iron spokes against my chest. Swingin' north and swingin' south, Taste of peaches in my mouth. Swingin' fast and swingin' slow Swingin's all I need to know. Swingin' ... Swingin' ... Swingin' on a summertime-- Swingin' ... Swingin' ... Swingin' on a summertime-- Swingin'! Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano Dale DeMarco: clarinet David Winograd: acoustic bass Tani Tabbal: drums
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Son and Daughter Son and daughter, Sun and the moon of my heart: Growing, knowing Soon we'll be growing apart. One foot on the precipice-- So begins your journey. Son and daughter, Sun and the moon of my heart. Peach skin, velvet, Soft little hand in my hand. Simple phrases, Simple words you'll understand. Milk and kisses, body heat: All I have to give you-- One step, two steps, Life is an uncharted land. Step by step across the floor Watch you slip and falter, Here I stand, your trembling Rock of Gibraltar Growing, going Out where I cannot control Cold winds blowing, Whispering demons cajole. One foot on the precipice-- This too is your journey. Making choices, Inking your fate on its scroll. This is what I wish for you: Love and work and laughter, Peace and health, your heart in bloom ever after. This is what I pray for you: Love and work and laughter, Peace and health, your heart in bloom ever after. Son and daughter, Sun and the moon of my heart ... Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano Suzanne Gilchrest: flute
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Nothing But A Highway I remember climbing in the driver's seat, T-strap sandals dangling, Daddy's keys a-jangling As he ducked behind the open hood. That's when I knew: to drive was good. I remember listening to highway songs-- California dreaming; Mississippi gleaming In the floodlight of a Memphis moon. And praying I would get there soon. But now a highway's nothing but a highway. No freeway I can drive don't take its toll. Yes, now a highway's nothing but a highway, So let the miles unroll. No highway's gonna liberate my soul. I remember headlights through the Catskill pines. Caravan of lovers. No tomorrow hovers If we just keep driving, never stop. Our worldly goods lashed tight on top, But now a highway's nothing but a highway. No freeway I can drive don't take its toll. Yes, now a highway's nothing but a highway, So let the miles unroll . No highway's gonna liberate my soul. I'm riding long and lonesome On a lonesome road. Wanna get to where my roots dig deep in earth; Where life and death and birth Weave the tether That holds me and my world together. 'Cause now a highway's nothing but a highway. No freeway I can drive don't take its toll. Yes, now a highway's nothing but a highway, So let the miles unroll. No highway's gonna liberate my soul. So let the miles unroll. No highway's gonna liberate my soul. Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano David Winograd: electric bass Tani Tabbal: drums Kurt Henry: steel-string guitar
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Who Cares Who cares if I leave the bills unpaid? Who cares if I dream by candlelight About a tryst in some secluded glade. Or if I just play solitaire all night? Who cares if that couple on the train Who only care for love can see me stare. Their kisses like a needle in my vein-- Until the train pulls into God-knows-where? Who cares if I spill vodka in the bed? Who cares how much I drink and still can't sleep? Who cares how my heart has broke and bled? Who cares how the lonely hours creep? Who cares if I live or if I die? Who witnesses my agony, my joy? Who is shattered when I say good-bye? Who's dreamed of me since he was a boy? Who cares for me when all is said and done? Someone. Someone. Someone. Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano
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Anatomy of a Dream A dream, at the start, Is a whisper in your heart. A dream as it grows Starts unfolding like a rose, Coming into focus like a beam. A dream Can't be denied. It's what's inside. So draw up a scheme Or it must remain a dream. Imagine the plot: What will be, and what will not. Don't just close your eyes and drift downstream. Powered by your inner fire; Unafraid of your desire; Like a baby grabs a toy, Reach out for joy. What you seek to find, Like a movie in your mind: Now watch it unspool, Colors shimm'ring like a jewel. Leading with your heart toward your dream, Agleam And open-eyed And open wide: Declare what you want, and the world will step aside. Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano David Winograd: acoustic bass Tani Tabbal: drums
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This Old Year This old year just slipped away-- It's no use pretending. January, summertime--now it's ending. Didn't set the world on fire; Wasn't a disaster. Seems however fast you move, time moves faster. Kiss those old dreams good-bye: At the stroke o-of midnight, You've done what you've done, nothing more--but then, Time steals 'round to begin again, Dreaming new dreams for New Year's Day. Dreaming new dreams for New Year.s Day. Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano
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If I Were If I were the air, I'd ruffle your hair, And whistle and sigh when you walked by. One blustery day, I'd whisk you away To a home in the sky where we'd live, you and I, Way up there—if I were the air. If I were a goat, I'd nibble your coat And unravel your glove to show my love. If the other goats tried, I'd butt them aside. Then I'd wink a good-bye with my four-cornered eye. How I'd dote—if I were a goat. If I were a burro, I'd bray with surro If you went away. You'd hear me bray From butte to butte. I wouldn't be mute, But would cry, "Alack!" until you came back. If I were a fly, I'd land on your tie And buzz and flutter at each word you.d utter. If you brushed me off, I'd land on your coif And hum in your ear, "I adore you, dear," All July—if I were a fly. If I were a dog, I'd lead you through fog Back home safe and dry. Each evening I'd lie Beside you to sleep, and not make a peep Until a bird sang aloud and you stirred. If I were a tree, from twelve until three When sunshine's ablaze, you could comf'rtably laze In my leafy shade. I'd drop a cascade Of apples and nuts and heaven knows what. Love's debris!—if I were a tree. But woe is me, I.m not a tree, Or a fog-walking dog, or a fly on your tie, Or a surroful burro, or a coat-nibbling goat, Or the air way up there ... I'm just a song about love lifelong. I can only sing; it's the only thing I know how to do. Let me sing for you All night long—let me be your song. Jennie Litt: vocals Kurt Henry: acoustic guitar Suzanne Gilchrest: flute
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A Prime Little Number My love, you're mathematic'ly inclined. Unfortunately, I'm no mastermind. To show you how I feel deep in my heart, I've quantified my love in terms of art. I gave my rhyming lexicon the old one-two And wrote this little number just for you: You're a prime number, A prime little number: Symmetrical curves That set fire to my nerves; You got a logga-rhythm; You make me want to rhyme. You have no common factors, You're prime! I'm an odd number, Without a plus-one. Just A home-loving guy: Want to bake you a "pi." I'll be your coefficient If you'll give me the time. I'll admit I'm a square, but You're prime! I can't offer much. All my love, half my assets, A five-carat diamond With multiple facets. If you'll marry me I'll be constant, not variable, Not one little fraction; You'll get all my action! Just a small wedding. An intimate wedding. You.ll tell me, "I do;" We.ll start life in base two. As we "cosine" the license, Just hear those church bells chime! Indivisible now, kid: We're prime! And one day, I'll give You a small derivative. Or two, or three, five, or seven. Or even eleven. Eleven would be heaven. And prime! Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano Tani Tabbal: drums Eli Winograd: additional percussion
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Marriage So this is marriage: my lipstick, your shoes, So this is marriage: the coffee, the news. So this is happily forever after: Some quiet laughter, An after-lunch snooze. This ring you gave me has mellowed its shine. Our bed's a bed now, no longer a shrine. Our rainbow's faded out to shades of grey now; It's day to day now. Okay now--that's fine. What was love but some kind of dang'rous game to me, When out of the blue, you came to me, Touched flame to me. Phoenix fire and brandy. Desert spring, Whispering, Flesh as sweet as candy . We carry water, we gather the wood. We've weathered rough times the best that we could. Old soldiers sold'ring on. This isn't new love; No, this is true love. It's you, love, for good. Yes, this is true love. It's you, love. Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano
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The Tipsy Grape I see the years carved into your face, But you take your seat with a young girl's grace. You show me snaps of your daughter and son, And I show you mine, not to be outdone. And time cannot be outrun. Back home in Cleveland, some new cafe We discuss old friends living far away. But from "hello," from the instant you spoke, Your voice was the same, made of cream and smoke. And something in me awoke. Did you take her downtown to The Tipsy Grape? (Fifty-cent jukebox, fake ID ...) Pressed together in darkness, one shifting shape, Did you slide a cool finger along her nape? Did you kiss her that night at The Tipsy Grape In 1983? Michelle has twins, they're nineteen years old. Years ago, the old Tipsy Grape was sold. A parking lot where we smoked on the lawn; My prom dress a scrap of faded chiffon; The world I once knew: now gone. But my mind is downtown at The Tipsy Grape. (Fifty-cent jukebox, fake ID ...) Pressed together in darkness, one shifting shape, As you slide a cool finger along her nape; As you kiss her that night at The Tipsy Grape In 1983. I would have known you, oh, anywhere: Faded jeans, that voice, waterfall of hair All honeyed cinnamon.now touched with gray. "So soft," said Michelle, sounding faraway. Her own hair in disarray. Won't you take me downtown to The Tipsy Grape? (Fifty-cent jukebox, fake ID ...) Pressed together in darkness, one shifting shape, Won't you slide a cool finger along my nape? Won't you kiss me tonight at The Tipsy Grape? Won't you kiss me tonight at The Tipsy Grape? Won't you kiss me tonight at The Tipsy Grape ... In 1983? Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano David Winograd: electric bass Eli Winograd: drums
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Lovers Growing Old In this garden, summer green, Warm with sun and wet with showers, Time has captured, in between Birth and death, this love of ours. Seems like only yesterday I was chasing butterflies, Then suddenly tomorrow comes, Another generation dies. So Hold me all the afternoon. Tiny fruits displace the flowers. Crickets creak their August tune; Bread and wine and honeyed hours ... In this garden, dearest love, Bright with autumn leaves adorning, Let my hand serve as your glove. Feel September's chill aborning. Seems like only yesterday We unlocked our secret door And slipped inside, but never found The secret to forevermore. Now We are lovers growing old. Ripeness passes with no warning. As the green gives way to gold, Let us greet the coming morning. Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano
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Hot Time Coming Once upon a time, I felt down Contemplating global meltdown. Nowadays, I belt down One more cup of Christmas cheer, Toast the snows of yesteryear. These days I've got a better plan: I'm dreaming of a Christmas tan! 'Cause there's a hot time comin'! Hot time comin'! Hot time comin' round the world! Yes, there's a hot time comin'! Hot time comin'! It'll be a whole new world! When that hot time comes, Ev'ry house will be a hothouse. When that hot time comes, No one left out in the cold. When that hot time comes, We'll find glaciers pornographic, Ben and Jerry a steamy centerfold. When that hot time comes, Snowmen won't have any snowballs. When that hot time comes, We'll rechristen Iceland: "Land." When that hot time comes, Frozen assets will be liquid; Stuck-up ice queens will melt upon demand! 'Cause there's a hot time comin'! Hot time comin'! Hot time comin' round the world! Yes, there's a hot time comin'! Hot time comin'! Welcome to a whole new world! When that hot time comes, No more ice cream, only cold cream. When that hot time comes, Cold cream will be crème brûlèe When that hot time comes, Old Jack Frost on his Zamboni Will be cashing his unemployment pay. When that hot time comes, The Big Chill will be just mod'rate As for Frozen--well, We'll just have to "let it go." When that hot time comes, Pure cocaine will be a bargain, But just try scoring other kinds of snow! 'Cause there's a hot time comin'! Hot time comin'! Hot time comin' round the world! Yes, there's a hot time comin'! Hot time comin'! Burnin. up the whole darn world! When that hot time comes, I will throw a hot bar mitzvah, With chopped liver served On an actual live swan. When that hot time comes, We'll encourage water boarding-- There won't be any snow to board upon! When that hot time comes, Eskimos in fur bikinis Catching rays all night, Toasting weenies and s.mores. When that hot time comes, Watch for Santa--in a Speedo!-- Hanging ten on the Arctic.s tropic shores! 'Cause there's a hot time comin'! Hot time comin'! Hot time comin' round the world! Yes, there's a hot time comin'! Hot time comin'! It'll be a smokin'-- It'll be a smould'rin'-- It'll be a sizzlin'--scalding--scorching--pan-seared--hearth-baked--char-grilled--with a side of fries-- It'll be a whole new world! Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano
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Now It doesn't last a minute; We're always in it: No past, no future--just now. We can obsess time's passing, The years amassing, Yet time will pass anyhow. But inside ev'ry breath is Time suspended, Open-ended, A sun poised to rise. Night into day unwinding Its sparkle blinding our eyes. So, like a flow'r unfolding, A babe you're holding, The soft, sweet cheek of a peach, A flight of birds at lift off, So light and swift off The earth, not yet out of reach, Inside of ev'ry breath is Time suspended, A now so splendid, A gift to bloom in our hearts. Oh, I can hear the drumming, And time, oncoming, will fly-- Then goodbye. So: goodbye. Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano
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The Voyage of the Manatee A curious manatee set out to see what he could see Beyond the balmy waters of his native Florida key. His mother shed a manatear and cried, "Ah, woe is me! My child is surely headed for calamity!" That curious manatee. His route the blue-green waterway that flows around the world: Past lighthouse isles where foghorns called and seagulls swarmed and swirled, Past hilltop forts where breezes blew and pennants bright unfurled, Past beaches sandy, mountains sheer and granitey. There swam the manatee. "I'll swim from sea to sea," he said, "to see what I can see. From sea to sea to see what I can see." From Florida to Georgia, up the Carolina shore, The Chesapeake, the Chincoteague, the Delaware, explor- Ing inlets, bays, and straightaways where raging waters roar. The various ecosystems of the planet he Explored, that manatee. Through the Verrazzano Narrows into Upper New York Bay. The New York Times reported on the sea-cow gone astray; New Yorkers lined the Hudson piers to see him pass their way. It undermined their cool, detached urbanity To sight a manatee. The lordly Hudson flows both ways. He rode the northward flow Past Yonkers, up to Tarrytown, past cliff-perched Marlboro, The Rondout's mouth at Kingston town, then Albany-ward, ho! Past villages and towns a copious quan'ity. There swam the manatee. "I'll swim from sea to sea," he said, "to see what I can see. From sea to sea to see what I can see." But that curious manatee had swum a thousand miles or more. This swimming ever on had started feeling like a chore. He missed his mother, missed his native waters, native shore. He bit his lip and uttered a profanity, That lonesome manatee. At Lake Tear of the Clouds, he caught a southward-flowing stream; Was well-wished on his journey by a school of friendly bream. He passed the ling.ring hours in a yearning tropic dream. He knew he.d reached the waters of his native Florida key When he looked ashore and saw a Royal Poinciana tree. His mother, weeping, flippers wide, embraced the absentee. "I've got you back, thank god!—and now, my sanity," She told the manatee. "I swam from sea to sea and saw a world so strange and new, Then turned and swam back home again to you. I turned and swam back home again to you." Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano David Winograd: tuba
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Three Little Girls Three plates of birthday cake. Three little girls: Brown skin and almond eyes And golden curls. A second-grade United Nations; Three imaginations-- Three little girls. Brown skin and almond eyes Are skin and eyes. They close, they open; ti- Ny butterflies. Beneath the skin, the soul abiding, Unseen but not hiding. Look in those eyes-- Three souls are dreaming: A future gleaming; With blessings streaming like rain. Three lives unbounded, By love surrounded, And with the whole world to gain. Or will tomorrow bring A slamming door? A burning desert earth? The fog of war? Will hate and prejudice divide them, Refuge be denied them, Wretched and poor? Or will three little girls live to see A world in which they're equally free? Where people co-exist, colorblind And kind? Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano
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32 Bars Eight bars, sixteen, thirty-two; Nights with you intoxicated me. I knew God no longer hated me When he sent me flirty, dirty you. One sweet kiss and I was yours; I admit I yielded easily. Never thought you.d split so breezily. Just one in a string of cheap amours. You melted my ice. Ooh, it felt nice. Plucked the cherry from my drink. Then, before I could blink, You threw it in the sink. Eight bars, sixteen, same old grind. Sticky tabletop and spent cigars; Juke repeats those thirty-two damn bars. I.ve done what I can to drink myself blind, And still I can.t get you off my mind. Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano David Winograd: acoustic bass Tani Tabbal: drums Dale DeMarco: tenor saxophone
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A 19th Century Death On the first day, we drank Nellie.s health downstairs In leftover New Year's champagne. She sang "Caro nome" on endless repeat From a concert recorded in Spain. The Spaniards applauded; the Christmas tree winked. We said "Cheers!" and clinked, Our arms interlinked, While Nellie lay dying upstairs. Morphine a-drip in her vein And beyond prayers. On the second day, Brenda described the scene As "a nineteenth-century death:" The fam'ly and friends in the parlor below. College roommate, voice teacher, Aunt Beth. Emailing the eyebank and manning the phone. Save one, quite unknown. A silent old crone Who paged through a Life magazine. Upstairs, they're clocking each breath And time between. The third day, Lars piled logs on the fire. The crone watched them burn, The flames rising higher, The wood turning ash, While the hospice worker ate a plate Of red-flannel hash. On the fourth day we cleaned out the veg'table draw'r: A graveyard of rotting brown leaves. Upstairs, Nellie's stroke set the monitors off; Kidney failure; slowed heartbeat; dry heaves. The fifth day, her daughter came back with supplies. "Did I miss something, guys?" The crone blinked her eyes. The girl drops her bag at the door, Stifles a cry with her sleeves. Five breaths; now four. The sixth day, nerves shredded, I finally wept. The crone pats my arm; I shudder, chill-swept. The music, a dirge, Now the tempo Nellie breathes to, when She gets the urge. On the seventh day, by the five a.m. moon. The rest of us sunk in sleep's bliss. The crone stole upstairs for a silent goodbye, And one cold, all-extinguishing kiss. Half-dreaming, I thought she was Lady Macbeth, The chill stink of death On her wintry breath. The front stoop was icy, leaf-strewn. Leaving, she said only this: "I'll see you soon." Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano Tani Tabbal: drums
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Things That Make Us Sing To soothe a fretting baby in the night. A child's shout when the swing is at its crest. The smooth cheek in a beam of streetlamp-light Of one so small, so innocent, at rest: These are the things that make us sing. Wanting him so much it makes you ache. The ravishment of love, the lover's cry. Drawing out as long as you can make The moment when you have to say goodbye: These are the things that make us sing. Sometimes the juices of life overflow And set the music going— The universal soul made sound In the key of you, In the key of me, And the circle goes round. The dearness of a fond, familiar touch. The quick'ning of another life inside. The pain, the sweat, the belly-splitting clutch; Your newborn stirring gently by your side: These are the things that make us sing. This is the world from an angel's eye-view: The mystery of music; Creation as it's danced by God, Rhythm, melody Recapitulating The steps that our mothers' mothers' mothers trod. The mellow fellowship of smoke and wine. The Glory Hallelujah march to war. The pris'ner and the slave whose spirits pine To shoot the bolt and crash through freeedom's door: These are the things that make us sing. The scream that fills the vacuum of a death. The lightning bolt, the sky, the brutal sea. The web of life, suspended on the breath Of earth, the starry blackness, you and me ... Oooh Sometimes the juices of life overflow And set the music going— The universal soul made sound In the key of you, In the key of me, And the circle goes round and round. These are the things that make us sing. These are the things that make us sing. Jennie Litt: vocals David Alpher: piano David Winograd: acoustic bass Tani Tabbal: drums Tim Ouimette: trumpet | |||
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