blue blue caravan, winding down to the valley of lights. my true
love is a man who would hold me for ten thousand nights. in the
wild wild wailing of wind, he’s a house ‘neath a soft yellow moon.
so blue blue caravan, won’t you carry me down to him soon.
blue blue caravan, won’t you drive away all of these tears. for my
true love is a man that I haven’t seen in years. he said "go
where you have to, for I belong to you until my dying day." so
like a fool, blue caravan, I believed him and I walked away.
oh my blue blue caravan, the highway is my great wall. for my true
love is a man who never existed at all. oh he was a beautiful
fiction I invented to keep out the cold. but now, my blue blue
caravan, I can feel my heart growing old.
Marika Hughes – solo cello
Dean Parks – e-bow
Dina Maccabee – solo viola
Whatever You Want
he’s a company man, your right hand, 13 years and counting. no
detectable ambition. a model of efficiency, far as you can see.
he knows every loophole, the art of fine print, massages the
numbers ’til they fit. and every time you ask him for another
vanishing act, he half-smiles as if to say: whatever you want is
fine by me. never a real moment together but she understands:
you’re an important man. another late night. don’t know if you’re
coming home or when. she’s alone again. but she goes on
curating your domestic museum. she disappears in her loyalty. she
is a dress wearing a face in the doorway, opening her arms out to
you: whatever you want is fine by me. no one would dare to
question you, oh no. no one would dare to stand up. but in the
night she leaves the papers in a tidy pile: evidence for her
reasons. and in the night he takes the main accounts and pulls
the files, detailing every treason. I am the last one you’d
ever suspect of setting the fire. but as you switch on your TV
tomorrow morning, you’ll hear me saying quietly: whatever you want
is fine by me. whatever you say, I’ll do what you ask me.
whatever you say. but do you know who’s listening? whatever you
say, you know it’s over.
Larry Klein – bass
Love Turns 40
she’s holding a secret that she’ll never tell, because the myth
is not supposed to retire. we’d rather it lit itself on fire, or
overdosed in a 4-star hotel. she’s holding a truth that she’ll
never reveal, because truth this time is an ugly child, and
mother and daughter may reconcile but their faces will never heal.
"don’t go," she says, but he’s sleeping—she says it to
herself: "don’t go." she sees herself rising, packing a suitcase
with all of her shoes. but something keeps you faithful when all
else in you turns and runs. love turns 40. the morning comes.
she’s holding a secret that she’ll never tell, because we were
once cinema gods in the night, and now all we’ve got is lunch-hour
light where nothing photographs well. "don’t go," she says, but
he’s sleeping—she says it to the dark: "don’t go." she sees
herself rising, dressing in silence for nothing to lose. but
something keeps you faithful when all else in you turns and runs.
love turns 40. the morning comes.
David Piltch – bowed doublebass
I Don’t Feel So Well
I don’t feel so well. I thought that you should know before you
fall. I don’t call them back. I thought that you should know
before you fall. I saw it begin to dawn on us both, and
somehow it wasn’t surprising. And so you’re preparing to swear
every oath. But all the while, I’m realizing: I can’t love you
there. I thought that you should know before you fall.
Dina Maccabee – solo viola
me and my baby on a February holiday, ’cause we got the news. 500
miles but we’re gonna make it all the way. we got nothing to lose.
been ten years waiting, but it’s better late than the never we’ve
been told before. we can’t wait one minute more. oh me and my baby
driving down, to a hilly seaside town in the rainfall. oh me and
my baby stand in line, you never seen a sight so fine as the love
that’s gonna shine at city hall. me and my baby been through a lot
of good and bad. learned to kiss the sky, made our mamas cry.
seen a lot of friends, after giving it all they had, lay down
and die. ten years into it, here’s our window at the Vegas
drive-thru chapel. ain’t too much for ’em all to handle. oh me
and my baby driving down. outside they’re handing out donuts and
pizza pies, for the folks in pairs in their folding chairs. my
baby’s looking so damn pretty with those anxious eyes,
rain-speckled hair. and my ring to wear. ten years waiting for
this moment of fate, when we say the words and sign our names. if
they take it away again someday, this beautiful thing won’t
change. oh me and my baby driving down.
Kyler England – backing vocal
Dina Maccabee – solo viola, backing vocal
Nothing Without You
it’s the quiet night that breaks me. I cannot stand the sight of this
familiar place. it’s the quiet night that breaks me, like a dozen
papercuts that only I can trace. all my books are lying useless now.
all my maps will only show me how to lose my way. oh call my name.
you know my name. and in that sound, everything will change. tell me
it won’t always be this hard. I am nothing without you, but I don’t
know who you are. it’s the crowded room that breaks me: everybody
looks so luminous, and strangely young. it’s the crowded room that’s
never heard. no one here can say a word of my native tongue. I can’t
be among them anymore. I fold myself away before it burns me numb.
oh call my name. you know my name. and in your love, everything will
change. tell me it won’t always be this hard. I am nothing without
you, but I don’t know who you are.
Vienna Teng – etsy organ, wurlitzer
Transcontinental, 1:30 a.m.
wait. don’t let this line go slack. don’t go alone into the cold.
wait. don’t give up on this yet. I know that there’s more you
haven’t told. wait my love, just one more thought…wait my
love, I haven’t got time in my life to watch you drift out to
sea. so please, wait. don’t let this line go slack. I want to
bring you back to where I know you. wait. don’t give up on this
yet. I just want you to let you let me hold you. wait my love,
just one more thought…wait my love, I haven’t got time in my
life to watch you drift away. but I’ve all kinds of time if you’ll
stay. I know we’re transcontinental, 1:30 a.m. and there’s not
even a wire, just a whispering in air. I know we’re
transcontinental, 1:30 a.m. but I’m here.
Till Brönner – trumpet
1br/1ba hrdwd flrs w/vw of trees. 1br/1ba prkg space 4 xtra fee.
my little flock of boxes and I surrounded by a painted-white unknown.
soon as this wall in my heart comes down, I’m gonna make it feel like
home. 1br/1ba: A/C was fine ’til yesterday. 1br/1ba: 89 degrees today.
my upstairs neighbors are making sounds that I never want to hear.
I hope they’re just moving furniture around, and really liking their
Marika Hughes – solo cello
Carla Kihlstedt – solo violin
city fast asleep. clouds up on the hill. so quiet, so still.
dreams of rain in sheets, dreams of ice and wings. so delicate,
these things. love is a word so small. let it fill up ’til I
can’t see at all. I want to be blind, only my hands to guide me.
bring all of you inside me. city fast asleep. lights hum in the
gray, like her breathing will someday. strangest beauty cries.
one and one, by and by, now three of us here lie. love for one
so small, come fill me up ’til I can’t see at all. I want to be
blind, only my heart to guide me. gather all the world inside me.
Sunday: dark water draining north, the heat swells and bursts like
plague. Sunday: ever-so-faint slow tambourine glides onward
toward the grave. who drew the line? who drew the line between
you and me? who drew the line that everyone sees? darling, Lake
Pontchartrain is haunted: bones without names, photographs
framed in reeds. darling, what blood our veins are holding. the
overpass frozen, fires ablaze at sea. who drew the line? who drew
the line that cuts to the skin, buries me in? tell me who drew the
line. darling don’t close your eyes. (lie as darkness hardens. lie
of our reunion. o lie if God is sleeping. o I believe you now.)
darling, Lake Pontchartrain will cradle me, and all you left
behind. listen: ever-so-faint slow tambourine is marching back
Carla Kihlstedt – solo violin
it’s so beautiful here, she says, this moment now. and this
moment, now. and I never thought I would find her here: flannel
and satin, my four walls transformed. but she’s looking at me,
straight to center, no room at all for any other thought. and
I know I don’t want this. oh I swear I don’t want this. there’s a
reason not to want this but I forgot. in the terminal she sleeps
on my shoulder, hair falling forward, mouth all askew.
fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead: passengers
missing, we’re looking for you. and she dreams through the noise,
her weight against me, face pressed into the corduroy grooves.
maybe it means nothing but I’m afraid to move. and the words:
they’re everything and nothing. I want to search for her in the
offhand remarks. who are you, taking coffee, no sugar? who are
you, echoing street signs? who are you, the stranger in the
shell of a lover, dark curtains drawn by the passage of time?
oh words like rain, how sweet the sound. well anyway, she says,
I’ll see you around…