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~ Lyrics ~

All songs copyright Jan C. Marra/Laughing Girl Music (BMI). 
All rights reserved, etc.


I rarely stop writing my songs. Consequently, your mileage may vary when you compare these words to the words on your CD. They're close, though...

 
THIS IS MY FAMILY

This is my family
Go everywhere with me
Close as close can be
Do you love all of me?
Marge wears five-inch spikes
She likes to scratch and bite
She barks at what she likes
She really likes you, dear
She can take you down
Weighs three hundred pounds
She's kind of been around
And she'd like some now

There's the one named Lou
He's not sure of you
He wears a skull tattoo
On his knife-throwing arm
There's Rock and Rendezvous
They paint their faces blue
They want to meet you too
They like your easygoing charm

Ida's a debutante
Clyde's a bon vivant
Lloyd knows what he wants
He wants a man like you
Little Eva's small
Only three feet tall
But not shy at all
She wants a man like you

Then there's the one you see
Blonde simplicity
Little boring me
They call me Blushing Sweet
You look like you relate
Oh I can hardly wait
For our second date
Come meet the rest of me

This is my family
Go everywhere with me
Number twenty-three
Live inside of me
This is my family
Go everywhere with me
Close as close can be
Do you love all of me
Do you love all of me
Do you love all of me?

 
WHEN YOU GET TO HEAVEN

I was thumbing through the pages of my gospel magazine
And in there was a picture, and I wonder what it means
A picture of the heavenfolk in a picnic on the grass
Serving up a supper out of Tupperware and glass

It was chili macaroni and noodle tuna fish
When you get to heaven, you got to bring a covered dish
Take the fixins with you when you give up your soul
'Cause when you get to heaven, you got to bring a casserole.

Julia Child, well, she died, now she knows what I knew
And Emeril LeGasse--he would not know what to do
French cuisine won't make the scene, I'm here to tell you why
The ladies of the church run that Big Buffet In The Sky
Yes, it's chili macaroni . . . .

There's a seat at the Welcome Table and it's waiting just for me
I've seen the writing on the wall and it's a recipe
So bury me with mushroom soup and green beans in a can
Throw in some french-fried onion rings and send me to the Promised Land

Yes it's chili macaroni and noodle tuna fish
When you get to heaven you got to bring a covered dish
Take the fixins with you when you give up your soul
'Cause when you get to heaven you got to bring a casserole
Better be mm, mm, good, and you better bring a casserole.

OH BABY

Oh baby I love you so
Oh baby I love you so
Can't tell nobody
Nobody's supposed to know
Oh baby I love you so

Can't tell mama, mama scream and shout
Can't tell papa, papa throw me out
Can't tell sister, she don't understand
I can't tell nobody in this whole wide land
That oh, baby I love you so . . . .

I tried to tell brother
Brother chase me with a stick
I tried to tell the doctor
Doctor told me I am sick
I tried to tell the preacher
Preacher told me where to go
I tried to tell the neighbors
They already know
That oh, baby I love you so . . . .
 
DELLA AND ROSE

Della and Rose had a back-street house
It was a bit rundown
It had cats and plants and a place to put your feet
Pretty good life
You don't need much and you do all right
Best friend by your side
Might even call it sweet
Now the owners want the land so they condemn the house
Take forty years of living here and go
You're too old to live this way
Please be out in thirty days
We'd be glad to see you to a nursing home

Della and Rose had a good thing going
A good thing going and how
Della and Rose had a good thing going, uh-huh
They're losing it now

What do you do with all the plants and the pictures
The view out the window
You thought you'd rest easy the rest of your long life
Sorry, they say, that you don't like the high-rise
We politely put you out--we had the legal right
The owners don't care, they don't have to care
Two old ladies in a nursing home don't sue
It's a fact that folks get old, it's a fact the story's cold
It's a shame there ain't a lot that you can do

Della and Rose had a good thing going
A good thing going and how
Della and Rose had a good thing going, uh-huh
They're losing it now

Here comes the big bulldozer
Man in the blue workshirt
Pushing at the house foundations
Knocking it down to the dirt
One night Della went drinking
Called a cab to get her and got
A bit confused in her thinking
Took it to a vacant lot
Where is my home?

Della and Rose had a good thing going, uh-huh
They're losing it now.

Letting it go for a season
Letting the crabgrass grow
Getting to be forgotten
That's how the good things go
Della and Rose . . . .

SHE'LL DO FINE

She's got some songs and she's got some style
She's got a winsome strawberry smile
She's twenty-two and she's all brand-new
And she's got a whole lotta hands to go through

But as long as the boys want to meet her
As long as the boys want to hold her hand
As long as the boys want an autograph
She'll do fine

Baby-blue eyes and baby-girl voice
She can be this month's flavor of choice
Can she shake it, fake it, make like a flirt
Do the guys in the front row try to look up her skirt
And as long as the boys . . . .
Check out that photo, open mouth and tumbled curls
How many more can you sell if she says that she once kissed a girl
But as long as the boys in the band
As long as the boys in the stands
And all those late-night no-dates pounding to a poster on the wall
Yeah, as long as they all want to meet her
As long as they all want to hold her hand
As long as they all want an autograph
She'll do fine
As long as they all wanna
As long as they all wanna
As long as they all want an autograph
She'll do fine
 
TWO HANDS

There's a quality taken for granted
No one seems to talk about it much
But babies are known to wither and die
For the want of a loving touch
Children are blessedly simple
They cry to be hugged and to be held
But once we are grown we're told to stand alone
Told to keep our hands to ourselves.

But sometimes words will fail you
You have more than words at your command
You carry the power to love and to heal
Right there in your own two hands.

So often the touch of another
Raises doubt and suspicion in our heads
It must be some kind of come-on
A trick to try and get us into bed
But I just want someone to hold me
Why is it so hard to say?
So we fight, fool around, lay our bodies down
And the need never seems to go away
But sometimes words will fail you . . . .

So eagerly we break the bonds of family
Independent, self-sufficient, all alone
And now the words "reach out and touch someone"
Make you think of the long-distance phone.
But sometimes words will fail you . . . .

 
THESE CRAZY YEARS

It all depends, they say, on finding your own way
I've found so many ways to go wrong
I just wish that the life that I'm leading
Were are simple as singing this song
If I can just survive these crazy years,
These crazy years, these crazy years
If I can just survive these crazy years
I'll win without losing it all

Bad nights, infights, friends you can't find
People you've got to impress
You give all you've got and you take what you get
With no promise of happiness
If I can just survive these crazy years.
These crazy years, these crazy years
If I can just get over these crazy fears
I'll win without losing it all

When you pay your dues, you sing some heartfelt blues
Are you rising to the top, or have you just gone too far to stop?

It's so hard sometimes not to tell easy lies
So easy to join in the games
Well, I'd like to rise like the sun in the skies
But I don't want to go down in flames
If I can just survive these crazy years,
These crazy years, these crazy years
If I can just quit crying these crazy tears
I'll win without losing it all

 
I COMB MY HAIR, I WATCH TV

My parents named me Debra Lee
I like the name Krystle Marie
I don't know what I want to be
I comb my hair, I watch TV
I am sixteen
I'm a junior
I do all right
I don't like school
Do my homework
Because you have to
After I do I watch TV
I have a boyfriend
His name is Jason
We drive around
And we drink beer
He's almost eighteen
He's joined the navy
He says he's getting out of here
This is no place
Nothing happens
Nothing real
Like on TV
I don't think about
I don't care about
Comb my hair, I watch TV

My parents named me Debra Lee
I like the name Krystle Marie
I don't know what I want to be
I comb my hair, I watch TV
Maybe a model
Maybe an actress
California
Live by the sea
After high school
Here in town there's a
School of cosmetology
My mother wants me to
Go and take some
Secretarial course
I could get married
Like my sister
She's got three kids
She's divorced

My parents named me Debra Lee
I like the name Krystle Marie
I don't know what I want to be
I comb my hair, I watch TV

 
I MAY DIE SOMEDAY

I may die someday
Maybe in a natural disaster
That's one way
If the earth comes calling my name
Making her claim
To carry me away
Well, that's okay.

I may die someday
And fall unto my friends to bury me
I hope there'll be
Gather me my trinkets around
Cross my hands and lay me down
Ten thousand years deep
I'll surely keep.
I may die someday
Something I might choose to do
So could you
Walk toward the north star and then
Give myself to the wind
And the winter and the wolves
I'd feed the wolves.

I may die someday
And everybody think that I am gone
Well, they'd be wrong
Give me to the sky or to the ground
I am everywhere around
I have been here all along
I've never been gone.
I may die someday
Someday
 
GRINGOTENANGO

Down south of the border is a town named Gringotenango
I found myself hanging around in Gringotenango
You can pursue all your favorite vices
Buy your food at 1967 prices
You can smoke reefer there and no one seems to care
In Gringotenango

Arrivals and departures every day in Gringotenango
You never know how long you're gonna stay in Gringotenango
As for romance, you quickly discover
So very very easy to take or leave a lover
And if there's every a fuss, someone gets on the bus
In Gringotenango

Every day at the beach, every night at the bar
Everybody's waiting for some money to arrive
Every Saturday down at the market
Everybody selling their belongings for the money to survive

You get the blues just the same in Gringotenango
When you haven't a centavo to your name in Gringotenango
I've had enough of the sunshine and the slumber
So I'll be passing the sombrero for this number
Won't you take me away 'cause I don't want to stay
In Gringotenango

This adventure's a lotta baloney
Y pasare' el sombrero por estas canciones
Won't you take me away 'cause I don't want to stay
In Gringotenango
Oh, how I want to go home.

 
BROKEN LOCKET

My heart is a locket
Broken clean in two
One half is mine, love
The other belongs to you

If heartache were honey and cake
And the tears I've shed were wine
Enough for you and I, love
And many more to dine

If love were high learning
If passion made me wise
I could answer any question
That any could devise

My wisdom is as water
And passion a burning pyre
And not enough of one, love
To ever quench the fire

 
WHO YOU ARE

Imagine one day a movie director
Comes to your door, says he'll make you a star
So you ask him what part you'll be playing
He only says, "You'll just be who you are."

Who you are, who you are
How do you know how to be who you are?

Do you need a costume, do you need a plaything
A diamond, a fur coat, a gun or a car?
Does appearance define you to where no one can find you,
What hat do you wear? Is that who you are?

Who you are, who you are
How do you know how to be who you are?

Do you seek out the sun, do you seek out the light
Do you love only one, do you say it outright
Do you blink back the tears, do you lie through your teeth
Do you try to be kind, do you think you are free?

Without one valid form of identification
Say you lost your wallet, the keys to you car
You lost your orders, you lost your directions
No one knows who you are, do you know who you are

Who you are, who you are
How do you know how to be who you are?

 
AMANDA

A drawing on a classroom wall
For anyone to see
Crayon scrawl across the page
Amanda talks to me
Two lines define the trunk of a tree
A tree so strangely made
Two tiny branches with tiny leaves
That give no shelter or shade
Amanda draws a bunch of balloons
In colors bright and gay
Their strings are flying loose and free
It seems they got away

Amanda, worthy of love
Here's a balloon bouquet
Let's plant a tree so tall and green
And brush those clouds away

Across the top, from edge to edge
And heavily applied
Black crayon from her color box
Amanda draws the sky
Down in the corner, barely there
A crude-drawn figure stands
Her arms reach for those lost balloons
But Amanda has no hands

Amanda, worthy of love
Here's a balloon bouquet
Let's plant a tree so tall and green
And brush those clouds away

A sky with no sun, a tree with no crown
Balloons lost and floating away
Amanda's face, it has no mouth
What is she trying to say

Amanda, worthy of love
Here's a balloon bouquet
Let's plant a tree so tall and green
And brush those clouds away.
Amanda . . . .


©  copyright Jan Marra 2007-2012 ~ All Rights Reserved ~
Contact: boss@janmarra.com


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