As Time Fell By
I had the words I wanted to tell you
Thought of them all night
Wrote them down to send to you
In glaring black on white
Tore my hair tore my paper
Ink stains on my hands
Watched the wind blow watched the sunrise
Watched the slipping sands as time fell by
My words growing dry
Thought of how I used to see you
Thought of summer days
Thought of how I tried to write
A song to fit your face
Thought of how I never told you
What I felt for you
Thought of how you broke my heart
And never even knew as time fell by
My words always dry
Words by John S Bowers
Two Hearts Make A Pear
The girls are doing fine living without the boys
On those long sultry evenings they’re better than toys
Just slide right in make yourself at home
There’s no finer place than your baby’s pleasure zone
Keep the lights down low and the bedgear clean
Light another candle for your hopes and dreams
Don’t abandon hope that two hearts make a pear
Try to see the humor in the angel’s lair
The boys are doing fine living without the girls
From barstool to park bench their flag unfurls
Just step right up and turn your cheek
Listen to the hawker begin his speech
Have you got a quarter for a sad old man
The crisis is in the calm and the wine’s so sweet
Don’t abandon hope that two hearts make a pear
Try to see the humor in the angel’s lair
The girls don’t know how to deal with the boys
The boys don’t know how to live with the girls
The old folks sittin in their rocking chairs
Sippin on tonics while exchanging stares
The men in the street with the jackhammer smiles
Whistle at the girls in the latest styles
Born at dawn and brought to the crest
Drowning in the wasteland at your behest
Caught in a squeeze captured and caged
Torn by the angry and enraged
Sliding on the ice don’t break my knees
Hold me in your arms I beg you please
Don’t disengage now don’t walk away
Follow me to the park where we will play
Don’t abandon hope that two hearts make a pear
Try to see the humor in the angel’s lair
Words by CP Butchvarov
Unopened Wine
Silent sweetness is her method
She lives between the lines
Sunshine sugar with a cherry
Fine unopened wine
Simple pleasure is her virtue
She’s the faithful type
Sleeping in her apple orchard
Fruit that’s almost ripe
Dream in peace while flowers open
Smile at what you see
Wait for me and I will make you
What you want to be
Words by John S Bowers and CP Butchvarov
Fleeting Sparrow
There isn’t time to explain so leave it at this
It’s all in your heart but it’s in your head
When you think too much about it
There’s no cause for alarm she’ll always be there
She’s been tailor made to walk beside you
But you can’t fall to despair
Cause love is alive it’s as real as the day
If you try to word it precisely the feeling goes away
So dream all you want have patience and wait
The clock ever ticks there’s no avoiding fate
There isn’t room for doubt you gotta have love
It’s here and it’s now it’s forever more
It’s as free as the dove
Ya build cages sublime it’s a comic scene
As it’s unfolding tears keep falling
Through the cosmic dream
Cause love is alive it’s as real as the day
If you try to word it precisely the feeling goes away
So dream all you want have patience and wait
The clock ever ticks there’s no avoiding fate
Words by CP Butchvarov
Bicycle
Silver winged bicycle rides on the sky
You were so sure that it never would fly
Pushin the pedals they’re turning the props
Fall in the street if I ever once stop
Earthbound and landlocked when just standing still
Can only take off by careening downhill
You’ll just have to wait till you hear the horn toot
Wearing a helmet but no parachute
The crows used to cackle when I’d crash in the corn
Now I’m cruising at 55 feet
Swoop through your ceiling like a king on the wing
Eat up the traffic with hot oil and jam
Higher than highways wherever I am
Watch through your sunroof when I pass you by
Might throw a beercan right into your eyes
The French aviator in his flying peugeot
Machine gunning TV antennas
Ride on the wind like a bike out of hell
Words by John S Bowers
Dusty Road
Dusty road to a golden city
St Anthony drew my maps
Saying watch the sky for warnings
Watch the road for traps
Lay me down on a thistle bed
A pouch of wine by my grateful head
Wake tomorrow with roses in my shoes
Move with dawn as grey as coal
Haven’t seen the glitter yet
Purify me at the river
I’ll try to get my eyes wet
Golden light on a dusty road
Spread my arms up to the sky
Plowed my land for 23 years
Watched my spirit die
Count the skulls along the highway
Make the dawn turn blue
Golden light on a dusty road
Roses in my shoes
Golden light on a dusty road
Spread my arms up to the sky
Plowed my land for 23 years
Watched my spirit die
Words by John S Bowers
A Sunset Saga
Walking through the woods at dusk
I heard their tiny foreign voices
Singing drinking songs and slurping wine
Elves they were with one brown mouse
All dressed in finest elvin silk
With belts of gold and finely polished blades
Magic fire burned on the ground
Which one bright lizard danced around
A bag of gold lay open near a stone
As I stared one elf looked up
And saw my face behind a tree
They doused their fires and vanished with the sun
Words by John S Bowers
Scene of the Time
School was out and I had a plan
To meet out west with my Sally Anne
My driftweed tumble wild plains flower
Climbing a rhyme she’s the scene of the time
Through the fields of wheat and stars
Hitched a road in those other cars
Kept my dark dark glasses on
Speed limit sign is the scene of the time
Under hood we stirred the smoke
Two crows played a cruel joke
Wind and tires all rushing through
Concrete sky and headlight moon
Crazy fretboard symphony
A sound you just can’t tune
Found the star we’d wished upon
But Sally Anne was long long gone
We’re moving points on a painted line
Trying to find the scene of the time
Words by John S Bowers
The Jump
You rode a stolen white horse
Through the western night
It’s tail flicked like electric
Static charge in flight
Your hat sailed off behind you
Wind a taste of pine
You ran gloved fingers over
Saddle leather shine
You thought you should wear six guns
Thought you’d rob a stage
The white legs raced to gallop
Over rock and sage
The sheriff heard the drumming beats
Across the sand
You led his black jeep into
A glowing aspen stand
His searchlight caught you jumping
A log fence in it’s beam
You cracked a solid pine rail
The horse began to scream
Words by John S Bowers
Hot Rum And Plum Pudding
A little hot rum a little plum pudding
Wear extra socks pull on the gloves
Climb aboard the sleigh
We’ll go for a ride in the snow
Fill the gal’s glass with red red wine
Show her love so fine
She wants to explode in your arms
Love every beast in a tinsel town
Love every dog walkin your yard
Love every kid as your own
Don’t underestimate the power of love
Don’t overestimate your god above
Love the people on your very own street
Do you love your mama
Do you love your papa
Do you love your sister
Do you love your brother
Do you love your friend
Do you love yourself
Flutter your eyelids wiggle your ass
Wrap that scarf tight around your neck
Feel the power and the glory
Give that gal a kiss so warm
Fetch the sailor out from the storm
Give them what they want
All they want’s
A little hot rum a little plum pudding
Wear extra socks pull on the gloves
Climb aboard the sleigh
We’ll go for a ride in the snow
Do you love your mama
Do you love your papa
Do you love your sister
Do you love your brother
Do you love your friend
Do you love yourself
Words by CP Butchvarov
Tar Machine
The city’s heart was cold as death
It’s blood was weak and sick and poor
It’s broken bones were not replaced
It’s mind was not worth working for
So we vowed to get away
And find out where the fields are green
But first we had to fight our keeper
Grapple with the ugly monster
A stinking snaking grinding breaking
Screeching slashing burning trashing tar machine
We walked away and then we ran
Gasping with our heavy load
The mutant box caught up in Kansas
On a cracked and dying road
It unleashed its primal fury
Strong it was and looking mean
In suits of steel we slipped its grip
Throwing sand and screaming curses
At a screeching slashing burning trashing
Stinking snaking grinding breaking tar machine
Words by John S Bowers
Dark Sullen Streets
These are dark sullen streets
They all end at the tracks
And these castles and mansions
Hurt more than a sleazy shack
Got a powerful mind
Full of shafts and diseases
Got ten flighty fingers
And a pen that still writes
Got a loud old guitar
And I hate everybody
Hate to work hate to think
Hate to sing the blues
So I live in the daytime
But I get strange at night
Walk in the valleys
Cause I fly in the heights
Got a home in my city
And I laugh at my people
Got eyes in the future
A grip on the past
Got some spooky ideas
Love every minute
Love to laugh and love the life
Love to sing the blues
Words by John S Bowers
Mountain Country
Mountain country I’m on my way
My feet can hear your melody
I feel it in my bones as I reach out
To touch you there so tenderly
A stream so swift
Dewdrops upon my doorstep
Why did I wander away for so long
Can see it in your skies as I walk along
This windswept highway
A dream to be lived and a crystal compass
To navigate this twisted path
Rare sights kiss
My thoughts in ecstatic endlessness
Yes but it’s true
I could lose my way
Water so sparkling and clean
Starlight so sharp and serene
Birds that reach for that perfect fluttering trill
All my thoughts have grown dull and my diamonds are flawed
But the highlands always bring me back to the thrill
Mountain country your veins run pure
I drink your streams adoringly
My vision is clear and I see your soul
Expanding towards infinity
Life so green
Calling as if from an ancient dream
Sing and I’ll write the words to your song
At the peak you’ll find
The air so clear that it shines
Your mind can only ripple out and be still
Oh I’ll carry scars from valleys I’ve known
But the highlands always bring me back to the thrill
Words by John S Bowers and CP Butchvarov