BOOK OF SPARROWS (2007)
© 2007 Tracy Grammer Music
- Blue Wing
- Travis John
- The Waking Hour
- Lord Of The Buffalo
- Gypsy Rose
- April Come She Will
- In The Shape Of A Heart
creditsProduced by Tracy Grammer & Jim Henry
Recorded and mixed by Jim Henry and Tracy Grammer at Rubytone. Mastered by David Chalfant at Sackamusic. Package design by Tracy Grammer. |
quotable"Each song has a lingering beauty that makes this a book of unique creations that all fly in a similar direction. Well-done in every way." - Music Matters Review
"...furthers [Grammer's] status as one of folk music's finest for here she makes the songs of others her very own." - Celtic & Folk Music CD Reviews |
blue wing
© Tom Russell / Bug Music OBO End of the Trail Music (SOCAN)
he had a blue wing tattooed on his shoulder
well it might have been a blue bird, i don't know
but he gets stone drunk and talks about alaska
the salmon boats and 45 below
he said he got that blue wing up in walla walla
and his cellmate there was little willie john
and willie, he was once a great blues singer
and wingin willie wrote him up a song
he said, "it's dark in here, i can't see the sky
but i look at this blue wing and i close my eyes
and i fly away beyond these walls
up above the clouds where the rain don’t fall
on a poor man's dreams"
they paroled blue wing in august of 1963
he moved north picking apples to the town of wenatchee
then winter finally caught him in a run-down trailer park
on the south side of seattle where the days grow grey and dark
and he drank and he dreamt of visions where the salmon still ran free
and his father's fathers crossed that wild old bering sea
and the land belonged to everyone and there were old songs yet to sing
now it's narrowed down to a cheap hotel and a tattooed prison wing
he said, "it's dark in here ..."
well he drank his way to la, and that's where he died
and no one knew his christian name and there was no one there to cry
but i dreamt there was a funeral, a preacher and a cheap pine box
and half way through the service, that blue wing began to talk …
he said, "it's dark in here ..."
he had a blue wing tattooed on his shoulder
well it might have been a blue bird, i don't know
but he gets stone drunk and talks about alaska
the salmon boats and 45 below
he said he got that blue wing up in walla walla
and his cellmate there was little willie john
and willie, he was once a great blues singer
and wingin willie wrote him up a song
he said, "it's dark in here, i can't see the sky
but i look at this blue wing and i close my eyes
and i fly away beyond these walls
up above the clouds where the rain don’t fall
on a poor man's dreams"
they paroled blue wing in august of 1963
he moved north picking apples to the town of wenatchee
then winter finally caught him in a run-down trailer park
on the south side of seattle where the days grow grey and dark
and he drank and he dreamt of visions where the salmon still ran free
and his father's fathers crossed that wild old bering sea
and the land belonged to everyone and there were old songs yet to sing
now it's narrowed down to a cheap hotel and a tattooed prison wing
he said, "it's dark in here ..."
well he drank his way to la, and that's where he died
and no one knew his christian name and there was no one there to cry
but i dreamt there was a funeral, a preacher and a cheap pine box
and half way through the service, that blue wing began to talk …
he said, "it's dark in here ..."
travis john
© 2003 Kate Power / Katidoo Publishing (BMI)
under a foreign sky, my fate awaits me
there but for god go i; do not forsake me
i am a boy full of promise, full of freedom
and now the joy is dead and done
i am gone
before the western sea, my home was in the valley
there with my family, i took to manhood early
i was the one my brother called, my mother looked to me
her fine, strong son
and now the joy is dead and done
i am gone
finding my way to go, the call that i should answer
my country's own hero, like music to the dancer
i am a boy full of promise, full of freedom
and now the joy is dead and done
i am gone
under a weeping willow tree you planted roses
there in my memory, where my eternal ghost is
i was a boy full of promise, full of freedom
and now the joy is dead and done
i am gone
under a foreign sky, my fate awaits me
there but for god go i; do not forsake me
i am a boy full of promise, full of freedom
and now the joy is dead and done
i am gone
before the western sea, my home was in the valley
there with my family, i took to manhood early
i was the one my brother called, my mother looked to me
her fine, strong son
and now the joy is dead and done
i am gone
finding my way to go, the call that i should answer
my country's own hero, like music to the dancer
i am a boy full of promise, full of freedom
and now the joy is dead and done
i am gone
under a weeping willow tree you planted roses
there in my memory, where my eternal ghost is
i was a boy full of promise, full of freedom
and now the joy is dead and done
i am gone
the waking hour
© David Francey / Laker Music (SOCAN)
i wake to the radio morning news
just as the day is dawning
and i watch from the window while a passing cloud
dulls a hopeful morning
and i wonder will the girl i love
come back with the morning
but the omen crow at the wakin hour
has given me fair warning
and the heart that’s breaking never makes a sound
she was once my heart’s delight
my need and my desire
she was my day, she was my night
my water and my fire
and i was once the same to her
when we still walked together
but the heavy heart of the wakin hour
is expectin heavy weather
and the heart that’s breaking never makes a sound
and the heart that’s breaking never makes a sound
i know love, i’ve seen love’s face
and i understand its sorrow
for every love i’ve ever had
has always met tomorrow
though i am wednesday’s child of woe
i try not to be ungrateful
but i was born at midnight black
with a heart that can be hateful
and the heart…
i wake to the radio morning news
just as the day is dawning
and i watch from the window while a passing cloud
dulls a hopeful morning
and i wonder will the girl i love
come back with the morning
but the omen crow at the wakin hour
has given me fair warning
and the heart that’s breaking never makes a sound
she was once my heart’s delight
my need and my desire
she was my day, she was my night
my water and my fire
and i was once the same to her
when we still walked together
but the heavy heart of the wakin hour
is expectin heavy weather
and the heart that’s breaking never makes a sound
and the heart that’s breaking never makes a sound
i know love, i’ve seen love’s face
and i understand its sorrow
for every love i’ve ever had
has always met tomorrow
though i am wednesday’s child of woe
i try not to be ungrateful
but i was born at midnight black
with a heart that can be hateful
and the heart…
lord of the buffalo
© 2000 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music
once upon a world long gone
in the shelter of an early dawn
they were half a million strong
made the valley rumble
come the hunters with their rifle balls
he heard the fury of his daddy’s fall
came cryin to his mama’s call
saw her break and stumble
so he ran with the swift and young
from the hunters and their hungry guns
ran until he was the only one
on the silent prairie
see him wanderin the hills alone
always lookin for that haven home
and the father of his father’s own
and a sanctuary
there’s an endless plain beyond the curtain of the pourin rain
where the golden prairie rolls forever and the tall grass grows
bitter wind blowin high and wild, have mercy on your wayward child
in search of an age ago and the lord of the buffalo
grey eagle left the blue-eyed town
climbed the mountain where he once looked down
saw the worry in the furrowed ground
and the heart plowed under
he woke walkin in a dream one night
saw a vision by the foxfire light
mighty horns and a coat of white
and a voice like thunder
there’s an endless plain beyond the curtain of the pourin rain
where the golden prairie rolls forever and the tall grass grows
bitter wind blowin high and wild, go easy little wayward child
there’s a home for the restless soul, said the lord of the buffalo
last night i heard the coyote wail
slipped away from the white man’s jail
went runnin down the trickster trail
with the moon behind me
in the hills before sunrise
i saw a silhouette against the sky
i’ll be runnin till the day i die
or the hunters find me
there’s an endless plain beyond the curtain of the pourin rain
where the golden prairie rolls forever and the tall grass grows
bitter wind blowin high and wild, gather up your little wayward child
so the saint and the sinner go to the lord of the buffalo
once upon a world long gone
in the shelter of an early dawn
they were half a million strong
made the valley rumble
come the hunters with their rifle balls
he heard the fury of his daddy’s fall
came cryin to his mama’s call
saw her break and stumble
so he ran with the swift and young
from the hunters and their hungry guns
ran until he was the only one
on the silent prairie
see him wanderin the hills alone
always lookin for that haven home
and the father of his father’s own
and a sanctuary
there’s an endless plain beyond the curtain of the pourin rain
where the golden prairie rolls forever and the tall grass grows
bitter wind blowin high and wild, have mercy on your wayward child
in search of an age ago and the lord of the buffalo
grey eagle left the blue-eyed town
climbed the mountain where he once looked down
saw the worry in the furrowed ground
and the heart plowed under
he woke walkin in a dream one night
saw a vision by the foxfire light
mighty horns and a coat of white
and a voice like thunder
there’s an endless plain beyond the curtain of the pourin rain
where the golden prairie rolls forever and the tall grass grows
bitter wind blowin high and wild, go easy little wayward child
there’s a home for the restless soul, said the lord of the buffalo
last night i heard the coyote wail
slipped away from the white man’s jail
went runnin down the trickster trail
with the moon behind me
in the hills before sunrise
i saw a silhouette against the sky
i’ll be runnin till the day i die
or the hunters find me
there’s an endless plain beyond the curtain of the pourin rain
where the golden prairie rolls forever and the tall grass grows
bitter wind blowin high and wild, gather up your little wayward child
so the saint and the sinner go to the lord of the buffalo
gypsy rose
© 1996 David Robert Carter (BMI), administered by Tracy Grammer Music
my love is like a gypsy rose
wild is the only way he grows
out where the sweet july wind blows
he blooms over yonder
his voice is like a mountain stream
washes me clear, washes me clean
i walk along the banks serene
where he will wander
there is no hill high as the moon, no river deeper than the sea
no shooting star, reckless in flight, burns in the night
wild as the love he gave to me
only the rain knows where he goes
thunder and me, ramblin with my gypsy rose
and on the day we were wed
up to the altar he was led
lay like a prisoner in my bed
oh, how we shivered
so i built a house to keep him in
guarded him from the sun and wind
but in the autumn he grew thin
in winter, he withered
there is no hill ...
my love was buried in the spring
i see his face in blossoming things
one night i thought i heard him sing
down in the hollow
now it's been thirty years and three
every night he calls to me
and for as long as i shall be
i know i'll follow
there is no hill ...
my love is like a gypsy rose
wild is the only way he grows
out where the sweet july wind blows
he blooms over yonder
his voice is like a mountain stream
washes me clear, washes me clean
i walk along the banks serene
where he will wander
there is no hill high as the moon, no river deeper than the sea
no shooting star, reckless in flight, burns in the night
wild as the love he gave to me
only the rain knows where he goes
thunder and me, ramblin with my gypsy rose
and on the day we were wed
up to the altar he was led
lay like a prisoner in my bed
oh, how we shivered
so i built a house to keep him in
guarded him from the sun and wind
but in the autumn he grew thin
in winter, he withered
there is no hill ...
my love was buried in the spring
i see his face in blossoming things
one night i thought i heard him sing
down in the hollow
now it's been thirty years and three
every night he calls to me
and for as long as i shall be
i know i'll follow
there is no hill ...
april come she will
© Paul Simon / Paul Simon Music (BMI)
april come she will
when streams are ripe and swelled with rain
may, she will stay
resting in my arms again
june, she’ll change her tune
in restless walks she’ll prowl the night
july, she will fly
and give no warning to her flight
august, die she must
the autumn winds blow chilly and cold
september i’ll remember
a love once new has now grown old
april come she will
when streams are ripe and swelled with rain
may, she will stay
resting in my arms again
june, she’ll change her tune
in restless walks she’ll prowl the night
july, she will fly
and give no warning to her flight
august, die she must
the autumn winds blow chilly and cold
september i’ll remember
a love once new has now grown old
in the shape of a heart
© Jackson Browne / Swallow Turn Music (ASCAP)
it was a ruby that she wore
on a chain around her neck
in the shape of a heart
in the shape of a heart
it was a time i won't forget
for the sorrow and regret
and the shape of a heart
and the shape of a heart
i guess i never knew
what she was talking about
i guess i never knew
what she was living without
people speak of love, don’t know what they’re thinking of
wait around for the one who fits just like a glove
speak in terms of belief and belonging
try to fit some name to their longing
there was a hole left in the wall
from some ancient fight
about the size of a fist
or something thrown that had missed
and there were other holes as well
in the house where our nights fell
far too many to repair
in the time that we were there
people speak of love don’t know what they’re thinking of
reach out to each other though the push and shove
speak in terms of a life and the learning
try to think of a word for the burning
you keep it up
you try so hard
to keep a life from coming apart
and never know
what breaches and faults are concealed
in the shape of a heart
it was the ruby that she wore
on a stand beside the bed
in the hour before dawn
when i knew she was gone
and i held it in my hand
for a little while
and dropped it into the wall
let it go, heard it fall
i guess i never knew
what she was talking about
i guess i never knew
what she was living without
people speak of love don’t know what they’re thinking of
wait around for the one who fits just like a glove
speak in terms of a life and the living
try to find the word for forgiving
you keep it up
you try so hard
to keep a life from coming apart
and never know
the shallows and the unseen reefs
that are there from the start
in the shape of a heart
in the shape of a heart
in the shape of a heart
in the shape of a heart
it was a ruby that she wore
on a chain around her neck
in the shape of a heart
in the shape of a heart
it was a time i won't forget
for the sorrow and regret
and the shape of a heart
and the shape of a heart
i guess i never knew
what she was talking about
i guess i never knew
what she was living without
people speak of love, don’t know what they’re thinking of
wait around for the one who fits just like a glove
speak in terms of belief and belonging
try to fit some name to their longing
there was a hole left in the wall
from some ancient fight
about the size of a fist
or something thrown that had missed
and there were other holes as well
in the house where our nights fell
far too many to repair
in the time that we were there
people speak of love don’t know what they’re thinking of
reach out to each other though the push and shove
speak in terms of a life and the learning
try to think of a word for the burning
you keep it up
you try so hard
to keep a life from coming apart
and never know
what breaches and faults are concealed
in the shape of a heart
it was the ruby that she wore
on a stand beside the bed
in the hour before dawn
when i knew she was gone
and i held it in my hand
for a little while
and dropped it into the wall
let it go, heard it fall
i guess i never knew
what she was talking about
i guess i never knew
what she was living without
people speak of love don’t know what they’re thinking of
wait around for the one who fits just like a glove
speak in terms of a life and the living
try to find the word for forgiving
you keep it up
you try so hard
to keep a life from coming apart
and never know
the shallows and the unseen reefs
that are there from the start
in the shape of a heart
in the shape of a heart
in the shape of a heart
in the shape of a heart
