Yankee Pluck

Yankee Pluck

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Unique - Unclassified | Cambridge, Massachusetts, United States
Total Song Plays: 25   
Member Since: 2005
   Last Login: over 30 days ago

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Blue Glory

Blue Glory

Glory, Glory, wave that flag

White, they say, is pure and true
but white is the flag that the losers flew
while Glory’s Blue and Red
stretched up to Heaven

Glory, Glory, wave that flag

Red, it’s said, is for passions fed
or still, I’ve heard it’s the Devil’s thread
or the stripes of the men
who were bled on the fields of Dixie

Glory, Glory, wave that flag

Blue is the true and the strongest hue
and it’s even got friends with money, too
and it borrows the Green
to buy the sky and water

Glory, Glory, wave that flag

Oh America!
Where do we go tomorrow?
Perhaps we ride together—
With feisty ponies, saddlepacks and red bandanas
We follow the fumes of your gasoline cowboys—
Black coffee and beans taste so good on the moon.
But where is the music? The campfire symphony?
The crickets? The wolves? Your harmonica blues?
Oh America!
Where do we go tomorrow?

©2005
SJ Murphy
1770 Massachusetts Ave. #198
Cambridge, MA 02140
sjmurphy@murphysworkshop.com
617-504-4991

Tea Leaves

Tea Leaves

You crossed my heart...

In the palm of my hand that you read
you said you saw me
Saw me dreaming and scheming
to leave these sleeping fields

CHORUS
And you said "Dear, it’s late, I fear
I must be on my way"
You crossed my heart in your gypsy wagon
You crossed my heart

In the leaves of these teas that you read
you said you saw me
Saw me wishing again for the coming of Spring
I’ll be going far away

CHORUS

Click-clack, What a racket!
Tin-cup, kettle and a picker’s basket
Clip-clop, horse a-hobble
He get no whip ‘cause he give ‘em no trouble

Bric-a-brac, stuff or pack it
Keepin’ that stash like a magic rabbit
Ding-dong, dinner bell
It start ringin’ and you run like hell

In that ball where you call to the ghost in my hall
you saw me
So I say "Will you stay? Will you take me away?
Take me away!"

CHORUS

©2005
SJ Murphy
1770 Massachusetts Ave. #198
Cambridge, MA 02140
sjmurphy@murphysworkshop.com
617-504-4991

Dear Jolene

Dear Jolene

Jolene, I never seen your hair like that
Where’d that Brooklyn Dodgers baseball hat go?
I miss it so--

Jolene, I never saw your knees so clean
Where’d them bluejeans go?
You know I miss them so--
But that dress, I confess,
is not so bad, not so bad at all

Jolene

Jolene, I never seen you walk so fine
Where’d that hot-top hop-scotch ragtime go?

Jolene, it seems that all the spokes are broke
Our bikes have bumpers now
and we cruise downtown
And this Ford, praise the Lord
is not so bad, not so bad at all

Jolene
Hi-ho Jolene

Jolene, I never seen you look so keen
you lean on a cane now, we got gray hair now

Jolene, how young we must’ve been, it seems
Where did all the time go?
Where did all our time go?
In the end, Life, my friend
was not so bad, not so bad at all

Jolene


©2005
SJ Murphy
1770 Massachusetts Ave. #198
Cambridge, MA 02140
sjmurphy@murphysworkshop.com
617-504-4991

River Modetta

River Modetta

These bridges move commotion
a flow so steady up above my head
these wagons, these locomotives
these midnight diesels grumbling all night long

O Modetta, sweep me
Keep me moving on

These kitchens, these porch swings broken
these mud-track alleys creeping riverside
These farmers kneeling at the water
there’s a red barn sighing when the wind blows through

O Modetta, sweep me
Keep me moving on

Roll on, Mighty River, Roll On

These gamblers, these one-eyed mongrels
there’s a banjo playing up around the bend
These Mondays, the school bell’s clanging
but the kids can’t hear it from the fishing hole

O Modetta, sweep me
Keep me moving on

Roll on, Mighty River, Roll On


©2005
SJ Murphy
1770 Massachusetts Ave. #198
Cambridge, MA 02140
sjmurphy@murphysworkshop.com
617-504-4991

Lullaby Rain

Lullaby Rain

When I find the voice to sing
I’ll stitch my broken wing
I’ll fly away

When I break this chain of fears
that’s kept me grounded all these years
I’ll fly away

O my friend! Did they clip your wings?
Do you dam your tears when the flood begins?
Or do you hide them in the rain?
Here I leave you, off I fly
You cursing at the clearing sky
There’s no more hiding in the rain
There’s no more hiding in the rain

When the hungry lions roar
and the crowd demands one more
I’ll fly away

When they find my secret hole
to the far side of this wall
I’ll fly away
I’ll fly away

O my friend! Did they clip your wings?
Do you damn your tears when the flood begins?
Or do you hide them in the rain?
Here I leave you, off I fly
You cursing at the clearing sky
There’s no more hiding in the rain
There’s no more hiding in the rain

©2005
SJ Murphy
1770 Massachusetts Ave. #198
Cambridge, MA 02140
sjmurphy@murphysworkshop.com
617-504-4991

Leave My Dog Alone

Leave My Dog Alone


Maybe a raft with a man named Finn
painting fences with a bottle of gin

Tommy, please, if this river swallows me

Won’t you leave my dog alone
Leave my dog alone

Maybe a band with a man named Hood
me gotta get where the gettin’s good

Friar, please, if an arrow catches me

Won’t you leave my dog alone
Leave my dog alone

Maybe a walk with my brother Cain
don’t know why he can’t get no rain

Mama, please, if I don’t come home this Eve

Won’t you leave my dog alone
Leave my dog alone

©2005
SJ Murphy
1770 Massachusetts Ave. #198
Cambridge, MA 02140
sjmurphy@murphysworkshop.com
617-504-4991

Tuscany Heat


Tuscany Heat

I watch you working at the bar with your Papa
and he’s frowning at the frolicking boys, but you’re coy;
and you laugh pulling draughts for the farmers
whose afternoon’s dashed by the Tuscany Heat

Latina

Well, I saw you strolling down at the fountain
with that boy your Papa told you be sure to ignore;
then you straddled the back of his motorbike
scratching like cats mad with Tuscany Heat

Latina

Did you really think that I’d be here?
This pool of melting moon I’ve staged for you
Pense veramenta que sto qui
La luna liquefalta es per te

I caught Giuseppe peeping wedged in your hedges
so I showed him off the edge of a bridge’s ledge
and now I duck in the barn on the lam at the farm
being hounded by Tuscany Heat

Latina

CHORUS

©2005
SJ Murphy
1770 Massachusetts Ave. #198
Cambridge, MA 02140
sjmurphy@murphysworkshop.com
617-504-4991