1.The Change
2. Lovers, Friends and Thieves
3. The Good Ship Promised Land
4. Bach and Bookstores
5. Simplify
6. The Driving Song
7. Summertime Lover
8. Ariadne
9. Farmer’s Tans
10. If I Only Had the Time
11. Home Now
12. Simple Little Lullaby
Listen to the songs at cdbaby
Jud Caswell: Guitar, bass, saxophone, flute, whistles, keys, percussion, and vocals
Marsey Caswell: Vocals
Nat Hussey: Lead Guitar
Stew MacLehose: Bass (2,6, 9, 11)
John A. Monroe: Digeridoo
Sam Sherry: Bass (1)
Recorded in the Rat Room, Alderdown Music, Brunswick, Maine
Mixed and mastered by Jud Caswell and Dave Rowe
Cover Layout by Graham-Caswell Design
Cover Photography by David A. Russell
you wake up to the change
sense that you’re alone
it’s a subtle shift in weather
felt in every bone
it’s nothing you forgot
it’s nothing you remembered
it’s nothing that you won
and nothing you surrendered
maybe it’s the phases of the moon, maybe it’s the season
maybe it’s the angle of the sunlight after noon
it doesn’t last and it doesn’t leave a reason
so you hold a little tight
you laugh a little long
you think before you speak
your words still come out wrong
your vision crystal clear
just to see what you can lose
now the more you understand
the easier you bruise
(chorus)
how precious every moment
how marvelous each friend
how recent the beginning
how imminent the end
how imminent the end
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I ask her, “What’s the use?”
She says, “There is no use.
The question is the answer
and all we do is try.”
I ask her, “What’s the sense?”
She says, “There is no sense.
It’s just do or don’t. You will or won’t.
You’ve got to love to be alive.
(You’ve got to love to be alive)”
Then I ask her how to stop
and she says, “This doesn’t stop.
It’s just forward and reverse
and a variety of speeds.”
I ask her where it goes
and she says, “It doesn’t go --
it just hides among the thistle and the hilltops
with the lovers, friends and thieves.
(With the lovers, friends and thieves)”
When my old ghosts come around,
I close my eyes to hear the sound.
When the words won’t leave my lips,
I cast them off my fingertips.
When the words recall your name,
I find I always feel the same.
Then I ask her, “Why the face?”;
she says, “This is not a face.”
It’s only my imagining
I need to make amends.
Then I ask her what I’ve done
and she says, “What’s done is done
and there’s just who we are and what we are
and what we both can be.
And what we both can be
(and what we both can be)
is everything we need.
Just lovers, friends and thieves.”
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the faces on my pocketchange seem more miracle than man
cuz my head’s so full of stories of the heroes of this land
but they’re all dressed up so thoroughly, just to keep us all amused
that i’m never sure what’s fact or fiction -- it’s got me all confused
our history tastes like fairy tales of america the brave
where the eagle flies the evil dies and all the world is saved
our history smells religious, more talk of god than man
and we’re sailing the seas of our storybook histories
on the good ship promised land
was it paul revere or santa claus who rode through town that night
when the british sailed to harbor so the minute men could fight
and he threw his toys down chimneys and hollered to all in sight
the british are coming, the british are coming,
happy christmas to all, good night!
(chorus)
did lincoln join america like old moses split the sea?
did he die for our salvation like that martyr on the tree?
was the speech he spoke at gettysburgh the covenent anew --
the new updated standard word from the mouth of god to you?
(instr)
did tonto ride with daniel boone on a horse named mr. ed?
should we cheer for all those westerns where the injuns end up dead?
now i can’t forget the alamo where they beat us to the ground
but did john wayne star as davy crocket? or was it the other way around?
(chorus)
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It’s a day for bach and bookstores
pondering slowly leaf by leaf
october blowing dry on straining windowpanes
it’s a day for art museums
drink in slowly, piece by piece
october dashing mint across an open threshhold
it’s a long way down to the places i should be
but it’s a long bright morning when you’ve got the eyes to see
there’s a song in everything from the devil to the deep blue sea
i’ve got a strong suspicion that the world was made for you and me
it’s a day for tea and honey
warming slowly sip by sip
october dashing clouds across a crystal sky
(chorus)
red cheeks, runny noses
apples bursting out like roses
just as hard and sweet as they can be
take the reins, take your chances
victimize your circumstances
take a breath, take a look, take your time with me.
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i’m gonna buy myself a car
so i can drive myself to work
so i can make myself some money
so i can buy myself a car
so i can drive myself to work
so i can make myself some dough
so i can buy myself a car
i need to simplify, simplify, simplify
for a man is rich only in proportion to the number of things
which he can afford to do without
you can live out in the suburbs at the corner of the block
with the greenest grass and the brightest brass
a big two car garage
and you can rent that little place out for a buck to meet the ends
for the powerboat and riding mower and new mercedes benz
and the cottage on the vineyard
you’ve been saving every dime
got a thousand ways to spend your days but you’re working all the time
you need to simplify...
or you can live on the horizon of a distant mountaintop
far from the bind of the daily grind of the patagonia shop
if all you need is ocean (and a jacket from j. crew...
some thinsulate from timberland and a turtleneck or two,
and those eddie bauer flannels and a pack from l.l. bean
a thousand dollar diving watch and hundred-dollar jeans...)
you need to simplify...
gonna buy myself a car, so i can drive myself to work...
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She hit me with a smile
and asked if she could drive a little while
She wouldn’t say what for
as she opened up her door.
She said she didn’t know
the places where the roads around here go
But she wondered if i’d mind
just to see what she could find.
She pulled off to the side
on a path barely wide as the car
she hadn’t gone too far
when she said “welcome... here we are”
the rain was coming down
it cooled us on the summer ground
and we were far, far, far away
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fresh and smiling faces at the window of my mind
your pictured painted perfectly, your clues for me to find
i carry them inside of me like marbles in a faded denim bag
slipping loose the drawstring when i need to bring you back
sunlight sets my autumn world on fire
like that maple tree that bleeds
and when the sun goes down i’m homeward bound
but i’m turning to the east
these winter nights are frightful in their cold
when orion in the sky is falling down
far above the heavens, i can hear him crying out
now you’re chasing after raindrops and you’re singing
laughing and you’re clapping your hands
but you’re pounding out your heart on the wall of a world
that will never understand you
you’re burning with a love for all of the beauty
but the hatred cuts you right through
when the winter melts to green, you know i’ve never seen
a more summertime lover than you
shadows in the candlelight, footprints on a freshly-fallen snow
these are our mysteries of perspective
wondering where the butterflies go
all of our answers asking questions,
still nonsense makes more sense to me than words
we whispered out our secrets, somehow someone heard.
now i close my eyes and hear you in the calling of a whip-poor-will
and i close my eyes and feel you in the sunlight on my windowsill
i close my eyes and hear you in the quiet of the night
i close my eyes and see you, and somehow i’m all right.
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Ariadne was a thirty-year-old rock hound
shipwrecked for the summer on the lazy streets of Georgetown, Maine.
All I ever wanted was to lay my body down by Ariadne.
It was the summer of my twenty-second year.
I had a one-bedroom apartment by the sea.
I met her at the natural museum
when the fog was in the harbor late on Sunday.
Ariadne has an eye for finding gems
where the rest of the world sees just a pile of gravel.
Ariadne says that family and friends
Are just so many ties she would like to see unravel.
I’ve been reading up on certain metamorphoses,
I’m gonna try to turn myself to tourmaline.
I believe it takes a certain shade and clarity
To just be seen by Ariadne.
She opened up her doors at nine o'clock,
by ten o'clock I knew she was the one.
We sat in the museum and she theorized on bedrock
while the National Geographics faded slowly in the sun.
Ariadne has an eye for finding gems...
It was a Tuesday when she asked me to explain the cause of my distraction. It was so unwise of me to offer up the truth of my attraction.
The Georgetown geologic world was shaken with the news of her reaction, and in the end I found it easier just to print a brief retraction.
October spins her leaves around the dock
and the water knows that summertime is done.
The natural museum doors are locked
on the National Geographics fading slowly in the sun.
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i dreamed we went into the woods
to a house of sun and maple
with candles burning on our kitchen table
i dreamed we went into the woods
and we gave the birds and trees new names
and the wind blew ripples into our windowpanes
we wore farmer’s tans and wedding bands...
the wind our only witness, and she promised not to tell
we wore famer’s tans and wedding bands and nothing else
i dreamed we went into the woods
we drank a toast to calico
and knew things in the ways that dreamers know
we were deep as silken rivers
infected with an innocence
we were the closest friends of rain
(chorus)
i dreamed we went into the woods
alchemists of the dying days of the 20th century
rumplestiltskins spinning goldenrod to gold
you and me
(chorus)
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i just called to say hello
to see whats’ new and let you know
it really sounds exciting, and thank you for inviting me
give my love to everyone who goes
gotta give the same old job excuse
i just can’t cut this evening loose
i’m starting now to wonder, each time it drags me under
is this a necktie that i’m wearing, or a noose?
if i only had the time i think that i could set a few things straight
maybe find a little meaning, or catch up with my reading
at least i could stay out at night and sleep a little late
it’s not perfect, i admit, and i have my doubts
but if i only had the time i could work it out
i know the way this all must sound
i didn’t call just to bring you down
guess the grass is always greener, and the meantime always meaner
when you’re waiting for your life to come around
it’s a passing phase, there are good days and bad days
and whatcha gonna do about it anyways?
well anyways...
chorus
this isn’t what i called to say
thanks for listening anyway
i guess i should be going, my lack of sleep is showing
and tomorrow’s even longer than today
yes tomorrow’s even longer than today.
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i need to go home now
i think that i’ve been here for far too long
won’t talk on the phone now
i thought i could take it, but i’m not that strong
and if you think there’s time, i should remind you
time is only useful when it’s taken
and if you think we’re fine i should remind you
you thought we’re fine before, you were mistaken
you think i should talk more
you think that i keep too much inside
i think we should stop more
we’ve got too much momentum on this ride
and if you think there’s time i should remind you
we had time before, we didn’t take it
and if you think we’re fine i should remind you
we’ve been fine before: we know how to fake it
every word i try to say gets fired back at me some other way
i lose the battles, i lose the wars
i get so tired of keeping score
so i need to go home now
i’ve tried living your way for far too long
don’t tell me you’ve grown now
i want to believe you, but i’ve heard that song
and if you think there’s time i should remind you
i need time away from you, you can’t take it
and if you think we’re fine i should remind you
if we can’t stand separate, we’re never going to make it
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When your world has grown more serious than serious can be,
you can come to me.
When it seems like everybody’s taking sides,
I can show you where to hide.
And when you’re thinking that you’re needing to be laughing for a while,
take my hand and I will share your smile.
And if you lie awake in bed at night
too frightened over what the morning brings,
close your eyes and I will sing
a simple little lullaby. I’ll sing to you
a simple little lullaby -- the best that I can do.
It’s something like a love song -- crazy ‘cuz it’s true,
a simple little lullaby: good night to you.
Sometimes this world is darker than the pocket of a coat
they’re at your throat.
And sometimes it is easier to throw the whole thing in
and let the losers win.
When you’re wondering where you’re going
and doubting where you’ve been
and hoping you can find the strength
to see it to the end,
there is strength in greater numbers
when you’re counting them by twos.
Together we won’t lose
it’s a simple little lullaby to brush away your fear
a simple little lullaby to dry away your tear.
It’s something like a love song -- a promise through the years.
A simple little lullaby: good night to you, my dear...
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