Archive for the ‘Lyrics’ Category

The Freedom Train   Leave a comment

american-freedom-train-m-bob-lorenz-art-611-002-1200xfreedomtrain.org

This song is a train song
It’s a song about a train
Not the Atchison and Topeka
Not the Chattanooga Choo-Choo
Nor the one that leaves at midnight
For the state of Alabam’
This song is a train song
Where the engineer is Uncle Sam

Here comes the Freedom Train!
You better hurry down
Just like a Paul Revere
It’s comin’ into your hometown

Inside the Freedom Train
You will find a precious freight
Those words of liberty
The documents that made us great

You can shout your anger from a steeple
You can shoot the system full of holes
You can always question “We the People”
You can get your answer at the polls

That’s how it’s always been
And how it will remain
As long as all of us
Keep riding on the Freedom Train

Riding’ all across this country
Playing music for the people
With the fellows in the band
We’re singin’ of the liberty
And freedom through the land

You can write the President a letter
You can even tell him to his face
If you think that you can do it better
Get the votes and you can take his place

If you hate the laws that you’re obeying
You can shout your anger to the crowd
We may disagree with what you’re saying
But we’ll fight to let you say it loud

That’s how it’s always been
And how it must remain
As long as all of us
Keep riding on the Freedom Train

Keep ridin’ that Freedom Train!

— Maria Muldaur

The Freedom Song — Maria Muldaur

Posted October 17, 2019 by kenneturner in Information, Lyrics, Painting, Poetry

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Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone!   2 comments

Galveston (27 of 106) Joy blogJoy on Galveston Island (She’s still in Houston with family and I’m here in Tucson.) — Image by kenne
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
It’s not warm when she’s away
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
And she’s always gone too long
Anytime she goes away
Wonder this time where she’s gone
Wonder if she’s gone to stay
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
And this house just ain’t no home
Anytime she goes away
And I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know
I know, I know,
Hey, I oughtta leave young thing alone
But ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
Only darkness every day
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
And this house just ain’t no home
Anytime she goes away
Anytime she goes away
Anytime she goes away
Anytime she goes away
— Bill Withers

It’s A Long, Long While From May To December   1 comment

Untitled Art PhotosUntitled Art by kenne

Oh, it’s a long, long while from May to December
But the days grow short when you reach September
When the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame
One hasn’t got time for the waiting game

Oh, the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November

And these few precious days I’ll spend with you
These precious days I’ll spend with you.

— from September Song (Music: Kurt Weill / Lyrics: Maxwell Anderson)

Ken’s Stuff and More Stuff   Leave a comment

Kenneth Harris-1613 blogKenneth Harris (May 20, 2017) — Image by kenne

“Stuff.”
One of my favorite words is stuff.

“That’s Super Stuff!”
“Make Stuff”
“I Love Free Stuff”
“The Good Stuff”
“My Stuff”
“Stuff in My Life”
“Stuff That Works”
“The Right Stuff”
“How’s Your Stuff?”

There are so many variations on the use of the word stuff. This last May we attended the last “Ken and Mary’s Blues Project” house concert in Porter, Texas. Before the music started, Kenneth Harris told the story of how the Project came about from his listening to Sunday blues on Houston’s KPFT. One Sunday he was listening to Nuri Nuri’s Blues Brunch.

“. . . he [Nuri] was interviewing this guy, and they played some of his stuff, and I called Nuri on the phone, and I said Nuri do you know anybody in the Houston area that can do that type of stuff, and he told me you meet me at Billy Blue’s like next Saturday night.”

Long story short, Kenneth found that stuff in the form of the Moe Hansum Band.

As I listen to Kenneth’s story I couldn’t help but think of Guy Clark’s “Stuff that Works.”

Stuff that works, stuff that holds up 
The kind of stuff you don’ hang on the wall 
Stuff that’ real, stuff you feel 
The kind of stuff you reach for when you fall

Continuing on this theme of “Stuff,” in the 1970’s there was a jazz-funk band called “Stuff.” The members were Gordon Edwards (bass), Richard Tee (keyboards), Eric Gale (guitar), Cornell Dupree (guitar), Chris Parker (drums), and later Steve Gadd (drums).

There is good stuff and not so good stuff, because of what we do with our stuff. We have too much stuff. Earth’s beauty is being scarred by the stuff we throw away daily. As someone who spends a lot of time outdoors admiring nature’s beauty, I see stuff on our trails, hanging in trees, blowing in the wind, in our lakes and streams.

In December of 2007, a short documentary was released. The documentary was critical of excessive consumerism and promotes sustainability, which has gone from a movie to a movement over the last ten years — a Community of more than a million changemakers worldwide, working to build a more healthy and just planet. This land is our land! You can join the movement. 

 

 

“Everybody Look What’s Going Down”   6 comments

Occupy EverythingSource — Wikimedia Commons

For those of us who grew up in the 1960’s, there is much to remember. For me, it was the draft, war, motorcycles, Playboy, love, demonstrations, flower children, and of course, the music. Many songs carried the message of the times.

One such song was Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth.” Over the years the song has been covered many times and the words still ring true, even more so today.

There’s something happening here
What it is ain’t exactly clear
There’s a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware

I think it’s time we stop, children, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down

There’s battle lines being drawn
Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong
Young people speaking their minds
Getting so much resistance from behind

It’s time we stop, hey, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down

What a field-day for the heat
A thousand people in the street
Singing songs and carrying signs
Mostly say, hooray for our side

It’s s time we stop, hey, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down

Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you’re always afraid
You step out of line, the man come and take you away

We better stop, hey, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down
Stop, hey, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down
Stop, now, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down
Stop, children, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down

— Stephen Stills  

 

. . . I would stand,   1 comment

Monsoon Sunset (1 of 1) blogMonsoon Rain at Sunset in Tanuri Ridge — Image by kenne

. . . I would stand,
If the night blackened with a coming storm,
Beneath some rock, listening to notes that are
The ghostly language of the ancient earth,
Or make their dim abode in distant winds.
Thence did I drink the visionary power;
And deem not profitless those fleeting moods
Of shadowy exultation: not for this,
That they are kindred to our purer mind
And intellectual life; but that the soul,
Remembering how she felt, but what she felt
Remembering not, retains an obscure sense
Of possible sublimity. . . .

— William Wordsworth

Looking Through The Looking Glass   2 comments

Sunset (1 of 1) art II blogLooking Through the Looking Glass — Image by kenne

Once I walked along a field
Another nightmare in my mind
And beheld the fearful symmetry
Everything was beautiful
Even things that were dead
And I surged with violent imagery

I walked a thousand miles just to see for myself
Looked behind my eyes
And found my hell
And in the light of the sun we go
Through rain and raging snow
To find the things we do not know

I will go
Never laying low
Just tell me how to breathe
And I will make it so
You must know
That this is not for show
And if you are not wise
(It will) be your demise

— from Through the Looking Glass by Machinae Supremacy

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