1. |
||||
|
Among the Sioux and Potawatomie
Among the Presidents we’ve killed
It might be morbid curiosity
That keeps me searching for you still
Out on the Plains and in the Food Courts
Under my pillow
In the rain
Somewhere that someone saw you walking
Out in a field, out by the plane
Walking away
And feeling alone…
Walking away
And feeling alone
I heard you shot a man in Reno
I heard you joined a burlesque show
Somebody saw you in a movie house
All by yourself, in the back row
Through Tennessee and in Virginia
Somewhere across the Rio Grande
The Duke receding from a doorway
You thinking that’s your kind of man
Walking away
And feeling alone…
Walking away
And feeling alone
Apollo astronauts and murderers
The losing fighter TKO
That baseball player with the movie star
Host of that late night tv show
Moon of Manakoora after midnight
The night wind whispering your name
It's not like they put me in mind of you
I'm always searching for you anyway
Walking away
And feeling alone…
Waking away
And feeling alone
|
||||
2. |
I'm Writing
04:50
|
|||
|
I’ve been hearing the sound of your voice
I’ve been hearing the sound of your voice
I’m writing
I’m writing
The story of your life
I’ve been busting my ass out here
Been trying to make sense of one single thing
You did pre-83
And I been busting my ass out here
Trying to turn every wrong turn you ever made
Into poetry
I’m writing
I’m writing
The story of your life…
I’m writing
I’m writing
The story of your life
You on the cover of Time Magazine
Black hair, blue eyes, sunny smile,
Under a headline
America’s lonesome hero
You had to wonder,
What does any of it mean?
I thought the same thing this morning
When I was brushing my teeth
Felt like some kind of alien man
I’m writing
I’m writing
The story of your life…
I’m writing
I’m writing
The story of your life
It’s the sad songs that stick with me now
You name me one happy song
Worth half a damn
Give me That Rainy Day
And I been busting my ass out here
I’m digging a hole,
I’m digging for gold
Before it all goes away
I’m writing
I’m writing
The story of your life…
I’m writing
I’m writing
The story of your life
I’m writing
I’m writing…
|
||||
3. |
My Little Lamb
04:06
|
|||
|
Gonna dance on the ceiling
So we don’t go climb the walls
But I got you, babe
You’re gonna save my life
I’ll put a tie on
I might even call you ma’am
Easter Sunday
And you’re my little lamb
World keeps turning
Like it doesn’t even
Know our names
Clouds roll by
And don’t look down
But I got you, babe
And mama, I’m you’re man
We’re still going strong
But that don’t mean
There’s nothing wrong
We’re all dancing through a
Zombie Land
It’s still a romance
Just not the way we planned
Easter Sunday
And you’re my little lamb
Easter Sunday
And you’re my little lamb
So long, it’s been so long
So long
And we’ll never be the same again
And every day I know
It’s you and me and me and you
We’re so together and alone
I’m not complaining
It’s like a dream I had
And lately you’re the only place
Where I can put my faith
Apocalyptic love and tenderness
Excuse me Jesus
Can I see your hand?
Easter Sunday
And you’re my little lamb
Easter Sunday
And you’re my little lamb
So long, it’s been so long
So long
And we’ll never be the same again
So long, John
When you get there
Assuming anybody’s home
Tell The Savior
It’s time to rise and shine
I love you honey
You know I’m you’re biggest fan
Easter Sunday,
And you’re my little lamb
|
||||
4. |
If I Ever Leave Here
03:27
|
|||
|
A wise man said live for today
Tomorrow is a promise you can’t keep
And yesterday’s a funny snapshot
With funny clothes
And hot rods in the street
And love flows here like water
Everyone is my friend
If I ever leave here
I won’t come back again
It’s all for one and one for all
And everyone’s got everybody’s back
There are some things
You can depend on
There’s a prize
In every box of Cracker Jack
And love flows here like water
Everyone is my friend
If I ever leave here
I won’t come back again
I feel the sting of some goodbye
On every single person that I meet
A church bell rings, a train crawls by
The grass keeps growing
Underneath my feet
And love flows here like water
Everyone is my friend
If I ever leave here
I won’t come back again
|
||||
5. |
Count Down By Threes
03:58
|
|||
|
Fat head, Sunday paper, pissing rain
I feel a big rain coming
Feels like I’m stuck at home
To sign for it
I feel my own blood jumping
I miss your breathing
God, I miss that sound
Count down by threes
Kill all the lights
Nobody died today
Black smoke, Muddy Waters,
Fucking shame
Who cleans a gun when it’s loaded
I’ve got my own damn self
To blame for it
Even the Lord wouldn’t have me
But I’ll never play the violin again
Count down by threes
Kill all the lights
Nobody died today
Someday, senorita
As they say in the song
I could pray again to see you
But gone is gone
Gone
Goddamn, don’t nobody pick up a phone
It’s a town without pity
I guess nobody’s got the time for it
I stopped by ol’ Steamboat Willie
But he was working on the Motown sound
Count down by threes
Kill all the lights
Nobody died today
Someday, senorita
As they say in the song
I could pray again to see you
But gone is gone
Gone
Nina Simone, Daisy Buchanan
The Jordanaires
There will be peace in the valley
But I don’t want to have to strain for it
Someday I’ll sleep like a baby
Right now I never want to dream again
Count down by threes
Kill all the lights
Nobody died today
Count down by threes
Kill all the lights
Nobody died today
Count down by threes
Kill all the lights
|
||||
6. |
Timpani Drum
03:53
|
|||
|
I got a timpani drum
And I don't love my brother
And I'm on my way
I got your hand in one hand
The whole world in the other
And I'm on my way
Got a cow I can milk
I got a bow and an arrow
And I'm on my way
Got a rock and a slingshot
Got my eye on the sparrow
And I'm on my way
I had a dream
You were looking at me real funny
Smelled like kerosene
And I think you were holding a gun
I got nothing to lose
I’m already a dead man
And I'm on my way
Wearing army fatigues
And an Indian headband
And I'm on my way
There's no light in the lighthouse
There's a hole in the shovel
These are dark, dark days
But someone messes with us
Man, they’re asking for trouble
And I’m on my way
Got a full tank a gas
And a girl half my age
You know Ashante
She does my hair and makeup
Because my home is the stage
And I'm on my way
I had a dream
I should put some of this shit down on paper
I was on a trampoline
I got so high I could not come down
I’m your friend, I’m your neighbor
I’m your doctor, I’m your color
You’re my protege
I’m your priest, I’m your shaman
I’m not your husband, I’m your lover
And I'm on my way
I got a timpani drum
And I don't love my brother
And I'm on my way
I got your hand in one had
The whole world in the other
And I'm on my way
I’m on my way
I’m on my way
|
||||
7. |
||||
|
You stand on that hill like a
Broken promise
A broken promise
The King of Nil
That cloud of regret’s like a
Plague upon us
A plague upon us
Time just marches on
Get out of the way!
The parade is coming
You had your chance
Have a nice day
Get your chin off the ground
Think of something to say
You stand on that hill like a
Broken promise
A broken promise
The King of Nil
That cloud of regret’s like a
Plague upon us
A plague upon us
He said, “Who am I kidding?
I ain’t kidding no one
All my life I pretended,
I am a pretender
And I am the star
Of some obscure movie
That no one would go
And pay money to see”…
You stand on that hill like a
Broken promise
A broken promise
The King of Nil
That cloud of regret’s like a
Plague upon us
A plague upon us
I said, “Who am I kidding?
I ain’t kidding no one
All my life I pretended,
I am a pretender
And I am the star
Of some obscure movie
That no one would go
And pay money to see”
Time just marches on
It’s already May
Hey, it’s almost your birthday!
Try not to look so out of place
Get your chin off the ground
Think of something to say
|
||||
8. |
Keep Talking, Baby
04:21
|
|||
|
Don’t fade away
Be a monument
Be as statue, a painting
The sound of the ocean
Come crashing and reaching
To pull me away
Say my name
Baby, flag me down
Somewhere there in the gloaming
We’ll meet like old spies
Coming in from the cold
In a bench by the bay
I see faces in everything
I see four kinds of light
Shining from you
And I, I, I
Keep talking, keep talking, baby
Keep talking, keep talking, baby
Never change
Be that dream of you
Be as funny and bright
And as close to my heart
So I can see you and feel you
And not come apart
Tell me I’m not the only one
Tell me everything
That I thought happened did happen
Tell me you saw what I saw
And we see things the same
I see faces in everything…
I see four kinds of light
Shining from you
And I, I , I
Keep talking, keep talking, baby
Keep talking, keep talking, baby
You know I’ve
Got some things to say to you
Questions for which only you
Have the answer
Requests for old songs
Only you know to sing
Arguments I can’t have alone
I’d like to think that you’d still like
Your voice to be heard
So news or a joke
Or a comforting word
I see faces in everything…
I see four kinds of light
Shining from you
And I, I, I
Keep talking, keep talking, baby
Keep talking, keep talking, baby
|
||||
9. |
||||
|
Come on home, be good to see you
Leave today, ride all night
And we’ll all be waiting for you
With banners and champagne wine on ice
Come on home, we had it painted
Sheets are clean, cotton’s high
And everyone’s dying to see you
To make it all right, make you feel fine
I love you anyway
I love you anyway
Come on home, it’s all forgotten
You can stay all you like
You won’t have to sing for you supper
You wash and we’ll dry
I love you anyway
I love you anyway
Come on home, we’re always open
You can bathe, bet you’re tired
You’re like a rodeo cowboy
A lonesome outlier
A ghost in a graveyard
A bird on a wire
A trail that’s gone cold now
A broken Messiah
A soldier who died
A soldier who died
It’s like you died
I love you anyway
|
||||
10. |
Roadside, Near Peru
04:30
|
|||
|
In memoriam, roadside near Peru
White cross, plastic flowers,
And a poem by Maya Angelou
Trucks flying by
Well, I’ve never been to see
Saint Bernadette
Or Fatima, but all I can tell you is
Now I’m inclined
I’m building a shrine
It’s to everyone
And it’s to everything
Got candles and incense
And a bell you can ring
How do we get from here to there?
Feel something sacred in the air
Usually given to answer
The call of my bed
Now I’m driven by angels
I’m out of my head
I’ve seen signs
I’m building a shrine
She’s a bathtub Madonna
With a yin and a yang
And a phonograph playing
Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline
I’m building a shrine
How do we get from here to there?
Feel something sacred in the air
To all that has ever held
A place in my heart
From the moon and the stars
To the smile on your face
When you shine
I’m building a shrine
Got the tooth of a Buddha
A guitar pick from James
An autographed scorecard
But you can’t read the name
Oh oh
Oh oh oh….
In memoriam, roadside near Peru
White cross, plastic flowers, and a poem by Maya Angelou
Trucks flying by
Trucks flying by
|
||||
Ron Lazzeretti Oak Park, Illinois
Chicago singer/songwriter Ron Lazzeretti writes simple songs of love and redemption-- alternately dark, funny, and
buoyant.
His first record, Battle Of The Planets, mixed a distinct Americana-style sensibility with an unexpected touch of pop.
His upcoming 2023 release, “Fat Head, Sunday Paper” heads further down that path, this time with a heavier emphasis on rock played live.
... more
If you like Ron Lazzeretti, you may also like:
Out on the line
by The Blue Highways
The slashing roots rock on “Out On the Line” always makes its way to the kind of triumphant chorus that quickens the pulse.
go to album
Echo Dancing
by Alejandro Escovedo
The legendary Alejandro Escovedo returns with another country-rock scorcher.
go to album
24th Street Blues
by Tom Heyman
Tom Heyman documents life in San Francisco circa 2023, refusing to succumb to easy characterization & instead capturing the city’s nuance.
go to album
An Evening at Macri Park
by Seán Barna
Singer-songwriter Seán Barna writes a moving and tuneful character study of the dimly-lit Brooklyn queer bar.
go to album
Passion Fruit Boys
by Passion Fruit Boys
Nashville’s Passion Fruit Boys nail the effervescent janglepop of ’80s college radio with bright guitars and immediate hooks.
go to album
Soulful indie pop with an ambient twist, the latest from Deau Eyes is ghostly and bewitching.
go to album
Jessy Baby Forever
by Jess Harp
Jess Harp's angelic vocals float dreamily over a strummy mix of emo, country, and folk.
go to album
