Song lyrics

The Chosen Ones

Words & music by Hal Howland

You with your guns

You with your racist fear

Where is your safety now

Where is your country now

You with your bombs

You with your lowly hate

Where is your victory now

How beats your heart

 

You with your fists

You with your bleeding wife

Where is your manliness

Where is your righteousness

You with your rope

You with your cheap revenge

Where is your justice now

How beats your heart

 

Are we the chosen ones

Are we God's finest hour

Or are we castaways

Far from what we could be

 

Guitar solo

 

You with your blade

You with your thief's reward

Where is your history now

Where is your wisdom now

You with your tanks

You with your scarlet sands

Where is your holiness

How beats your heart

 

Are we the chosen ones

Are we God's finest hour

Or are we castaways

Far from what we could be

Far from what we could be

Far from what we should be

 

© 1995 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Derabucca (A Song for Palestine)

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

I walk with the sound of the drum in my heart tonight

I walk with the sound of the drum in my heart tonight

I keep it alive; it will always be there

As long as I know that this land is not theirs

I cannot escape from the sound of my drum

 

Our people have lived in this place for thousands of years

Working this sand and these rocks with our blood and our tears

They say that this land is a gift from their god

They see us as though we were just a mirage

They will not escape from the sound of my drum

 

I dream of a day when we will not hear their guns

They'll know us as brothers under one sun

 

Guitar solo

 

I dream of a day when we will live here in peace

Their leaders must know that we'll never leave

 

So walk with the sound of the drum in your heart tonight

Walk with the sound of the drum in your heart tonight

Keep it alive; it must always be there

As long as this crime is committed somewhere

The whole world can dance to the sound of my drum

Yes, the whole world can dance to the sound of my drum

 

© 1988 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Elysium

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

Long ago

Thousands of miles away

I had a love

That turned the night to day

This one love

This one heavenly light

Slipped through my hands

Like water to the bay

 

Every spring I hear her voice

Sing on clear blue sky

In our scented field of grass

May she make her choice

By and by

 

Over the years

We would write

We made a world

Where love never dies

In this world

In this heavenly place

Time stood still

Like the visions in our eyes

 

Every spring I hear her voice

Sing on clear blue sky

In our scented field of grass

May she make her choice

By and by

 

To this day

Our words deliver me

She gives me hope

To turn another page

This one hope

This one heavenly dream

Keeps me alive

Like songs that never age

 

Even now I hear her voice

Sing on clear blue sky

In our scented field of grass

She will make her choice

By and by

 

© 1994 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.




Every Time It's You


Words & music by Hal Howland


So many miles

I have walked this road

So many years

Thinking on you

Love of my life

You'd be my wife

If only I'd stayed

Stayed there with you


We were so young

All the world at our feet

All of your friends said

You were made for me

They were just teens

What could it mean

Oh, but I knew


Everyone I meet

Every face I see

Everyone I know

Every voice I hear

Everywhere I go

 Every song I sing

Oh, every time it's you


You sent that picture

Of your lovely little girl

The smoke in her eyes

Went straight to my heart

Her hair dressed in flowers

She could have been ours

If only I'd stayed

Stayed there with you


She looks just like you

I don't see that fortunate man

But the word on her lips

Isn't meant for us

She's right where we were

True love has found her

I hope she knows


Everyone I meet

Every face I see

Everyone I know

Every voice I hear

Everywhere I go

 Every song I sing

Oh, every time it's you


Guitar solo


Some people believe

That we'll pass this way again

Sent back to heal

All the hearts we broke

Such a beautiful dream

Things just as they seemed

And this time I'll know


Everyone I meet

Every face I see

Everyone I know

Every voice I hear

Everywhere I go

 Every song I sing

Oh, every time it's you

Oh, every time it's you


© 2013 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.




Free

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

She got in a cab

And rode across town

And looked at the number

And went in

He was sitting in a chair

At the foot of the bed

Looking strange and defenseless

She stood before him

And was free

 

Vibe solo

 

In a couple of days

She called again and said

"How long had you wanted me

That way?"

He said slowly and tenderly

"For years and years

Since long before the wedding

Please see me again

Please"

 

© 1976 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.




The Freshmen Women

 

Words & music by Hal Howland, with Bob Shimizu

 

I'm a simple man

Just a scholar

Penny loafers, Harris tweed, button-down collar

Stuck in Kansas

Teaching English

To the cretins

Bred at Oxford

Weaned on Shelley

Never watch their morbid rubbish on the telly

Still they taunt me

How I hate them

The freshmen women

 

See them laughing

Skipping brightly

In threes and fours across the campus, kissing nightly

Scrawny boyfriends

With their baseball caps

Turned backward

Oh, the torture

Their florid prose

Hackneyed verse, perceptive questions, fitted clothes

Still they mock me

How I want them

The freshmen women

 

At the zenith

Of their beauty

While I suffer with my studied sense of duty

Staying later

Grading papers

In the moonlight

As I finish

Twist the drawer key

Switch the light off, turn to go; they stand before me

Paired perfection

How I need them

The freshmen women

 

In the boardroom

At the hearing

Innuendo, false bravado, brazen leering

Such hypocrisy

As if it's only me

In the gallery

But I'm the scapegoat

It's decided

Step down softly, disappear now, unrequited

Still they haunt me

How I miss them

The freshmen women

 

Here's the nurse now

With my lunch tray

I think she knows me

 

I'll be old soon

I'll forget them

The freshmen women

The freshmen women

Ah, the freshmen women

 

Note to the mentally challenged: This song is a satirical treatment of the serious problem of sexual misconduct. The lyrics do not reflect the authors' views. Well, I should speak for myself. —H. H.

 

© 1994 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Holy Land

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

Will every decent boy and girl open your eyes

You got to take this to your heart

Our land is bowing to the specter of our size

When will you see it's gone too far

 

Holy land

Holy land

Earth don't speak

Earth can't say

Stop me now; I'm going away

 

Our sprawling city screams for more on every side

Another newborn needs a home

How many will he bring before him when he dies

To make him think he's not alone

 

It seems an easy thing to love the dancing trees

To know the gorgeous country sky

It seems that man is locked inside at times like these

And then he always wonders why

 

Holy land

Holy land

Earth don't speak

Earth can't say

Stop me now; I'm going away

 

© 1976 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.
 
 
 
I Just Can't Say Goodbye

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

I was looking again

At your photograph

Every time I pay the price

Wipe tears from my eyes

How could I let you go

Was a middle child

In a stranger's house

Every time I made a friend

Had to make one again

You're the only truth I know

 

I just can't say goodbye

You know the reason why

I just can't say goodbye to you

 

In another life

In another world

Might have gone another way

But this is today

Got to live with the choice I made

But through all this time

And through all the changes

Every day I think on you

Live my whole life through

In the hope for the love I've saved

 

I just can't say goodbye

You know the reason why

I just can't say goodbye to you

 

I know that

I can't just

Turn back the clock and start over again

But I see

Love in your eyes

And I've just got to try 'cause this pain never ends

 

Instrumental solo

 

In another time

In another place

I would love you just the same

And it's not too late

But we'll never know till you take my hand

 

I just can't say goodbye

You know the reason why

I just can't say goodbye to you

I've paid for my mistake

In years of heartbreak

I know that what is at stake is the truth

'Cause I can't say goodbye to you

 

© 1991 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.
 
 
 
Imagine 2010
 
A midterm meditation, with apologies to the estate of John Lennon
 
Words by Hal Howland
 
Imagine there's no Halliburton
It's not hard to do
Just buy some Gulf Coast seafood
And wash away the goo
Imagine all the people
Thinking for themselves, ah
 
Imagine there's no tea party
No xenophobic jerks
Nothing to kill or die for
A government that works
Imagine all the people
Sharing life in peace, you
 
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll wise up
And stop voting for Republicans
 
Imagine no repossessions
No banks too big to fail
Nor corporate ownership of Congress
The developers in jail
Imagine all their lawyers
Making minimum wage, you
 
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And get an education
 
© 2010 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.
 
 
 
I'm So Alternative

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

I'm a goofy white kid

And I'm losing my hair

And I wish I was Roger McGuinn

I'd like to have some talent

But it just isn't there

Now, tell me, is that such a sin

I was born too late to be groovy

Everything I learned I saw in a movie

But I know I'll go far

I'll rewrite Roger’s repertoire in

 

My whiny voice

My whiny voice

(Woe, woe)

My whiny voice

I'm so alternative

 

It's been twenty-five years

Since Mommy bore me

And what a time I've had

I paid my dues watching MTV

Now, tell me, is that so bad

My role models played heavy metal

While I dreamed of polishing Ringo's pedal

But I know I'm a man

I've got Daddy’s business plan and

 

My whiny voice

My whiny voice

(Yeah, yeah)

My whiny voice

I'm so alternative

 

You take these three tired chords

And you can't go wrong

You add some pitiful words

And you make the snare drum

The loudest thing in the song

 

12-string solo

 

So when you see me on the tube

Remember the nerd

That you laughed at in Phys Ed

That song they keep playing

That you think you've heard

Well, that came out of my head

I'm not one of you groping slackers

I've got a room full of Rickenbackers

And I know they're in tune

I wake my roadie every day at noon with

 

My whiny voice

My whiny voice

(I'm in love with)

My whiny voice

(I'm kiddin' you)

My whiny voice

(A complete unknown)

My whiny voice

(Writing for Rolling Stone)

My whiny voice

I'm so alternative

 

© 1995 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.
 
 
 
I'm Sorry, Dear

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

It does no good

To apologize

It seemed I should

I don't know why

All along

Becoming clear

I need more time

I'm sorry, dear

 

I learned at home

To live inside

When I was moved

I learned to hide

 

So you see

It's not just you

It's new to me

I'm in this too

Please don't go

I need you near

If I seem slow

I'm sorry, dear

 

I love you so

I'm sorry, dear

 

© 1976 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

In Quest of Yesterday

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

Yes, I hear what you say

That you've finally seen things my way, and

Would I come along and have another go

Like a fool I'm off

In spite of everything I know

In quest of yesterday

 

Surely nothing has changed

Every time we're together it's the same game, and

How I ever loved you I will never know

Still I find myself

Behind you everywhere you go

In quest of yesterday

 

Like a monument that I cemented

To my brain

You're a souvenir, a dearly sung refrain

When you can't erase the space between us

With your eyes

There's your proud supply of tried-and-tested lies

 

And she says

 

"I never said it was easy

I never told you no lie

You still refuse to believe me

That it don't grieve me

When you cry

 

"I never wanted to love you

I only said I would try

So you were out of the room

When I said goodbye

 

"You say that I have controlled you

Well, I don't see it that way

Didn't I prepare you

I didn't dare you

To stay

 

"You made it such an adventure

I was the earth and the sky above

Don't know where you dreamed up

All this love

 

"So you are devastated by my charms

Don't hold that against me

I just fell into the open arms

You offered so gently

 

"So don't you tell me that you did not see

The road was coming to an end

It seems like such a simple thing to me

Why can't we be friends

 

"I never wanted to hurt you

I never wanted to lie

I just became an obsession

It was destined

To die

 

"So don't be saying I'm careless

And that I've played with your heart

You knew that I was no good

Right from the start"

 

As I climb in the car

Wondering just what it is that we are, I

Swear I'll disconnect the phone next time it rings

Love can surely make a

Person do some crazy things

In quest of yesterday

 

© 1977 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

In the Right Place at the Right Time

 

For Mary Chapin Carpenter

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

 I know what you're thinking

 I came out of the blue

 I'm getting all the attention

 That the world owes you

 I'm just a lucky kid

 Who's never paid any dues

 You're the one who's earned the right

 To sing the blues

 

 I'm in the right place at the right time

 Now everything I've worked for

 Is gonna be mine

 I bet all my dreams

 Laid them here on the line

 I'm in the right place at the right time

 

 You talk about rejection

 Well, I've been there before

 I've missed a hundred opportunities

 And unopened doors

 I've heard no so many times

 I couldn't take it no more

 Sometimes I've forgotten

 What I'm doing this for

 

I'm in the right place at the right time

 Now everything I've worked for

 Is gonna be mine

 I bet all my dreams

 Laid them here on the line

 I'm in the right place at the right time

 

 I know it isn't much

 Just a three-chord song

 I know you despise it

 But you're singing along

 It's got a good beat

 And a strong melody

 I've sung it twenty thousand times

 You can take it from me

 

I'm in the right place at the right time

 

Guitar solo

 

 So instead of sitting there

 Feeling sorry for yourself

 Turn on the light

 Get your guitar off the shelf

 Grab a piece of paper

 All you need is the truth

 This could be the one

 You know, it's all up to you

 

 You're in the right place at the right time

 Put everything you've worked for

 Right next to mine

 Gamble all your dreams

 Lay them there on the line

 You're in the right place at the right time

 

 © 1992 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

It's Only Money

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

Well, I wake up every night

From a fitful sleep

Same bad dream

Denizens of the deep

Maybe it's the county

Or maybe it's the bank

Familiar foul medicine

That we all drank

 

It's only money

It's only money

It will put you through hell

If you don't remind yourself

It's only money

 

Well, I try to face the morning

Getting harder every day

Working just to make a buck

What a price to pay

In the evening I can't listen

To my answering machine

Same greedy bastards

Trying to pick my pocket clean

 

It's only money

It's only money

It will turn you to drink

If you fail to stop and think

It's only money

 

When I was just a boy

My daddy said to me

Never buy with credit

Pay with cash and you'll be free

Listen to me well, son

Don't go into debt

Don't gamble with your future

'Cause you're gonna lose that bet

 

It's only money

It's only money

It will drive you to despair

If you don't stay out of there

It's only money

 

Well, I thought that I was smart

Didn't follow his advice

Every chance I got

I would roll them loaded dice

Now I'm up to here

And I won't live long enough

To tell the moneylenders

What to do with all this stuff

 

It's only money

It's only money

You can listen to it ring

Or you can do the right thing

 

It's only money

It's only money

It will drive you to despair

If you don't stay out of there

It will turn you to drink

If you fail to stop and think

It will put you through hell

If you don't remind yourself

It's only money

 

© 1992 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Last Night

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

No use to try to sleep

What I feel inside won't keep

I've got to set it down

No way to get around it

 

Last night the world began

You hold me in your hand

God knows what we have started now

 

How long we'd known

Words don't tell you

It doesn't show

 

Until you're by my side

I swear I nearly died

We can't begin to say

What it is we know today

 

I want to close my eyes

But everything I try

Just tells me how I love you now

 

© 1976 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Laura Lee

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

How many times

I've tried to tell you

Oh, my lover to be

While you're away

These warm devotions

Sing so clearly to me

 

My love is forever

Sweet Laura Lee

And I'll love you this way

Oh, my loving girl to be

 

All of this time

I've dreamed about you

Oh, my lover to be

And ever since

The day I met you

You're the music to me

 

My song is forever

Sweet Laura Lee

And I'll sing you this way

Oh, my loving girl to be

 

Guitar solo

 

My love is forever

Sweet Laura Lee

And I'll love you this way

Oh, my loving girl to be

 

© 1976 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Look, Don't Touch

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

Look, don't touch

(She's another man's wife)

Look, don't touch

(This could ruin your life)

Look, don't touch

Hurts too much

 

She walked in the office

Put away her things

Muscular shoulders

Didn't notice her rings

Provocative smile

Chestnut hair

By the end of the day

I was halfway there

 

Weeks went by

Sweet conversation

Trouble at home

Bad situation

Years of winter

She dying inside

Late one evening

Would you give me a ride

 

Look, don't touch

(She's another man's wife)

Look, don't touch

(This could ruin her life)

Look, don't touch

Hurts too much

 

Guitar solo

 

Six months later

More than an affair

Born for each other

Delicious despair

Can't turn back

Can't move ahead

Too many lies

And truths unsaid

 

So now we face

An impossible choice

Destroy a family

Or silence a voice

Is it better to have loved

Whatever the cost

Than to live your life

Missing what you've lost

 

Look, don't touch

(She's another man's wife)

Look, don't touch

(This could ruin your life)

Look, don't touch

Hurts too much

 

© 1996 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Mother, I Found Your Son

 

In memory of my Catholic period


Words & music by Hal Howland

 

There was a time

Not so long ago

When I walked the valley of death

One cold Lenten night

You came to me

Said, Give up what isn't your own

 

We walked through the dust

Over the viper's domain

We stepped through shattering glass

Not looking for light

Nor for the truth explained

You said, Roll away the stone

 

In a low-hanging room

Calling out their names

Saying to each one

Do this in memory of me

You bowed and you sang

My gift belongs to you

I finally heard

Mother, I found your Son

 

You led me in

He set a place for me

A rough board, a peasant's cold meal

But, Teacher, I begged,

I cannot receive

He said, You shall be healed

 

In a low-hanging room

Calling out their names

Saying to each one

Do this in memory of me

You bowed and you sang

My gift belongs to you

I finally heard

Mother, I found your Son

 

Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei

Qui tollis peccata mundi

Lamb of God

Who takes away our sin

Grant us peace

 

Now as I walk

This vale of tears

My life is a small enough price

For you took my hand

You took me straight to Him

Fruit of your womb, Jesus Christ

 

In a low-hanging room

Calling out their names

Saying to each one

Do this in memory of me

You bowed and you sang

My gift belongs to you

I finally heard

Mother, I found your Son

Mother, I found your Son

I finally heard

 

© 1999 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Our Guitars

 

In memory of George Harrison

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

Our guitars

Are crying

Our guitars

Are singing tonight

Hallelujah

For you

 

Our guitars

Are praying

Our guitars

Are whispering tonight

Hare Krishna

For you

 

Prisoner of love

You sought holy truth

We were busy drowning

In the fountain of youth

 

Our guitars

Are ringing

Our guitars

Are calling tonight

Shiva Shiva

For you

 

Guitar solo

 

So many times

You offered the way

We preferred to remember

That first yesterday

 

Yeah, you

You saw through the lie

Our guitars

Still cry

Mahadeva

Shiva Shiva

Hare Krishna

Hallelujah

For you

 

© 2001 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Poem to Your Wife

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

I wrote a poem to your wife

That she didn't think you'd find

Or maybe she just figured

That you simply wouldn't mind

'Cause for years inside the house you share

You've lived so far away

Kissing tall green bottles

Getting sicker every day

 

She folded what I'd written

In the pages of a book

And put it in her stocking drawer

The first place I'd have looked

I guess that it was just her way

Of trying to clear the air

So why was she surprised

When my poem wasn't there

 

She turned to me for love she knows

She'll never have with you

She turned to me to share a dream

That really might come true

I'm sorry that I've added to

The burdens of your life

I'm so sorry that you had to read

My poem to your wife

 

I wish that I could tell you

It's as simple as it seems

That she had not turned out to be

The woman of my dreams

And that her love for me

Had not been buried deep for years

But you're not the only man in town

Who's sleeping in his tears

 

It started out so sweetly

Quiet feelings in the room

Deep smiles and sad confessions

That your house felt like a tomb

When we finally faced the music

It was choice and it was fate

By the time she got your attention

It had long since been too late

 

Guitar solo

 

I hope that you recover

From your sorrow and your haze

That you find the perfect woman

To share your better days

But a twenty-year-old girl

Is way too young to make that vow

She knew this long ago

And everybody knows it now

 

She turned to me for love she knows

She'll never have with you

She turned to me to share a dream

That really might come true

I'm sorry that I've added to

The burdens of your life

I'm so sorry that you had to read

My poem to your wife

 

© 1996 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.




Renaissance Musicke


For Robert Aubry Davis, with apologies to Chuck Berry


Words by Hal Howland


Just let me hear some of that Rensaissance musicke

Any old way you choose it

It's got a sackbut, you can't lose it

Any old time you use it

It's gotta be Renaissance musicke

If you wanna dance with me

If you wanna dance with me


I've got no kick against the Florentines

Unless they try to sing it too darn clean

And change the tune into a monody

Until it sounds unlike polyphony


That's why I go for that Renaissance musicke, etc.


I took my lover on across the court

To hear the ayres of the King's Consort

I must admit they had a rockin' bande

They were wailin' on the Queen's Pavane


They started playin' that Renaissance musicke, etc.


The south of France, they had a jamboree

They had their shawms and their tambourines

Drinkin' grog from a wooden cup

The local peasants, they were all shook up


They were diggin' that Renaissance musicke, etc.


Don't care to hear 'em play continuo

I'm in the mood for some Marenzio

It's way too early for the scherzo

So keep a-rockin' that theorbo


So I can hear some of that Renaissance musicke, etc.


© 1986 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.


 

 

 

Snakes in the Sun

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

Alone with my thoughts on the long open highway

I could be home on Wednesday if I really tried

But these mountains are lovely, and night, she is calling

Got my vanishing country along for the ride

 

Just imagine the people who settled this valley

So proud of their labor, their unyielding will

They took what they needed and left us tomorrow

Their children are gone, but they're living here still

 

There's a light in the distance near the bank of that stream

Just a ramshackle farmhouse, not another one for miles

If I pulled off the highway and knocked on the door

Could I bear to go in and sit down for a while

 

Could I witness the timeless and dignified grace

Of a good, simple life that believes in the land

Could I look in their eyes and forgive their descendants

Who have moved in with me and turned forests to sand

 

I cry for the shame we have brought here today

And I fear that our greed is beyond our control

We belong to the soil, and we shall not possess it

We cannot gain the world without losing our soul

 

Guitar solo

 

So I turn my attention to the darkening sky

Where the Milky Way shimmers like a river of glass

But that glowing horizon is the badge of some city

Where the great cleansing peace of this moment shall pass

 

I slow down and consider this last summer night

And I savor these sounds I shall not hear again

While the moon's lonely silver collects on these foothills

And the lights come more quickly around the next bend

 

As I drink in the scent of the soft yellow vine

That flows by the road like an angel's long hair

I am pierced by the sadness of my destination

I look back through the darkness and offer my prayer

 

Please, Lord, attend now upon your creation

Grant us the strength to correct what we've done

Show us the folly of our disillusion

Save us from scorching like snakes in the sun

 

I cry for the shame we have brought here today

And I fear that our greed is beyond our control

We belong to the soil, and we shall not possess it

We cannot gain the world without losing our soul

 

© 1993 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

St. Cecilia

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

I want to say how I am feeling

I think that you should know

You come, you go, you need your freedom

And I can't give you more

Our love is like an autumn evening

We're like the summer dew

We're warm, we're cold, we're like the seasons

And God, how I love you

 

Every time I think about it

I want to tell the world

This life, this love, is free and easy

Our faith unto ourselves

We both have things that make us happy

We're bound to spheres above

No lie, no game, we promise nothing

And therein lies our love

 

Courting you is such a pleasure

I've never felt this fullness before

Free to come and go at our leisure

Free to walk out the door

 

I wish that you could hear me thinking

I wish that you could know

My pain, my joy, these years' devotion

I give to know you more

Our love is like the voice of springtime

Just like the falling snow

We're warm, we're cold, we're like the seasons

And God, I love you so

 

© 1977 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Tania Valdes

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

There's a woman I know whose gleam is incredibly bright

Other beautiful women are merely shadows in her light

When she walks with me my thoughts whirl out of control

And when she speaks her words burn into my soul

We think too much the same for this to be unreal

I shouldn't be ashamed to tell her how I feel

The drumming in my chest is giving me no rest

I keep chanting her name in the night

 

Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes

 

I wish I could explain to you what it is I see

She's like no other woman who's ever attracted me

Her long hair is bronze and laced with a soft verdigris

And her skin is more au lait than café could ever be

We too often smile for this to be unreal

Wouldn't it be wild to tell her how I feel

This ringing in my ears is driving me to tears

I keep chanting her name in the night

 

Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes

Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes

Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes

 

Guitar solo

 

She wears a little silver ring in her hieroglyphic eyebrow

Makes me want to see every inch of her right here and right now

She moves like the samba of Jobim's dearest dreams

I want to touch her so slowly and rip her clothes by the seams

We walk too close together for this to be unreal

When will I ever tell her how I feel

That deadly long black dress is giving me no rest

I keep chanting her name in the night

 

Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes

Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes

Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes

Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes, Tania Valdes

 

© 1995 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

The Times, They Are Not Changin'

 

A yuletide protest song, with apologies to Bob Dylan

 

Words by Hal Howland

 

Come Donner, come Blitzen

Back up to your sleigh

And prepare for your flight

On that glorious day

When the laughter of children

Will light up your way

But your runners are rapidly aging

So look out for that spot

Where the roof's blown away

For the times, they are not changin'

 

Come Neiman, come Marcus

And jack up the till

You'll gouge and extort

And we know that you will

And we'll line up for hours

To purchase your swill

While your ceiling's incessantly paging

You'll be in Barbados

When we get the bill

For the times, they are not changin'

 

Come mothers and fathers

Throughout the land

Don't spawn a wimp

You must raise a real man

So buy him toy guns

To caress in his hand

While his sickness is quietly raging

If he blows up his school

Will you then give a damn

No, the times, they are not changin'

 

So now it is New Year's

And don't we feel great

We gave and we took

And we drank and we ate

And nothing we did

Was too little too late

For our memories are already fading

So it's back to the table

To pile up our plate

For the times, they are not changin'

 

© 1995 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Through My Sister's Door

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

My first record was Beethoven's Fifth

My second record was Miles and Philly Joe

Everything was new, so I sat down on the floor

Put them under Mickey's arm

Played them over and over

 

Then one evening with all the windows open

I thought I could hear the voices of angels

They were singing in a room just down the hall

And all of a sudden

I felt nearly five feet tall

 

Radios, cars, and beaches

And gorgeous harmonies

Ponytails and lipstick

Guitars and pounding drums

These are the simple things

That we were living for

These things I heard

Through my sister's door

 

A few years later, my voice began to change

The lion was sleeping, Eeeeeeee

Judy and Johnny could never work it out

What with surfing and racing and dreaming

And learning how to twist and shout

 

And then it all happened in 1964

The man on the radio said, You won't believe this

And in that moment the room began to glow

That song grabbed me by the hand

And I won’t ever let it go

 

Radios, cars, and beaches

And gorgeous harmonies

Ponytails and lipstick

Guitars and pounding drums

These are the simple things

That we were living for

These things I heard

Through my sister's door

 

A thin man from the Village

Got us thinking about Mr. Jones

We knew he wasn't talking about us

A sweet aroma began to fill the air

Our folks weren't the only ones freaking out

When we all jumped on the Magic Bus

 

First term in college I heard an awful rumor

Four friends who'd changed the world had decided to let it be

And in that summer, with guns ringing in our ears

We all realized

How precious were those few short years

 

Radios, cars, and beaches

And gorgeous harmonies

Ponytails and lipstick

Guitars and pounding drums

These are the simple things

That we were living for

These things I heard

Through my sister's door

Woe oh oh oh

Through my sister's door

 

© 1999 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

To Hear from You

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

To hear from you

After all this time

You can't believe my surprise

I knew the hand

I heard my blood

What beauty for my eyes

 

For half the day

I stood and stared

I never, never dreamed you'd write

I finally moved

And I read your card

A new man is born tonight

 

All those years alone

Marking time

Counting days

If only I had known

You still feel this way, my girl

 

So tell me where

I'll meet you there

I still can't believe my eyes

I've got to say

This has been my day

To hear from you, my wife

 

Guitar solo

 

All those years alone

Marking time

Counting days

If only I had known

You still feel this way, my girl

 

So tell me where

I'll meet you there

I still can't believe my eyes

I've got to say

This has been my day

To hear from you, my wife

 

© 1976 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Virginia

 

Words & music by Hal Howland

 

Today

I made my big decision

To pry myself from here

Gonna be with you, my dear

 

Tonight

I'm stepping on that train

Staying on is just insane

It's been a long and lonely year

 

People say

I make my way

I've played a thousand towns

They don't see

It's killing me

I've got to have you around

 

Tomorrow

I'm waking up at home

Gonna drink you with my eyes

Gonna love you till I die

 

Instrumental solo

 

People say

I make my way

I've played a thousand towns

They don't see

It's killing me

I've got to have you around

 

Tomorrow

I'm waking up at home

Gonna drink you with my eyes

Gonna love you till I die

 

© 1977 Harold Howland Music (BMI). All rights reserved.

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