There's a Storm Liner Notes

 

Come To The Land

 

Sometimes I think there should be another Statue of Liberty placed in the Southwest facing Mexico. How soon we forget that we are a nation of immigrants. This is a complex issue, but I wondered what the angels would think about it.

 

There's a Storm

 

I finished this song as Hurricane Ivan made landfall at 130 miles per hour. This led to the wider political and social storms sweeping our land. This started out as a finger picking song, but one day I tried the flat pick and decided that it needed more horsepower.

 

Makerman

 

We don't know who it was, but we know that someone had to be the first to put two lines of language together and make them rhyme. The word poet comes from the Greek and means literally maker. I started thinking about how poets long ago may not have been on the margins of society as they are now in our country.

 

Shawnee Farm

 

This is a true story of a couple in their eighties who had a farm surrounded by suburbs. The city built a street through their farm. They couldnÕt afford the assessment, and lost their farm. In the paper, the wife was quoted as saying, ÒWhat do we need all those street lights for?Ó This is her story.

 

 

Winter in my Soul

 

This song takes me back to when my daughter, Robin, was young enough that when the bread was ready be covered with a cloth to sit and rise, she would kiss the bread goodnight.  Songs that have helped me get through hard times, are some of my favorites. I hope this song helps others.

 

 

The Front Porch Song

 

When we searched for our midtown house, we told our realtor that a big front porch was a must. We feel very lucky to have a big stone porch to share with friends and neighbors.

 

 

Last Letter Home

 

Sometimes when what youÕre going through is too painful to talk about it, others are prompted to fill in the gap with their life stories. For me, I imagine going to visit my mom for the last time.

 

 

Just a Breath Away

 

Love can sneak up on you even when you know that schedules will force a separation. This song tries to keep the faith.

 

 

Like a Prayer

 

I wrote this when the Republican Party took over Congress. It was too depressing, so I put it away. I decided it was time to bring it out again.

 

 

Therapy

 

I sing this song to remind myself to slow down once in a while.  I always felt it needed a full arrangement. This track was fun to put together on the CD.

 

 

Stairway of Time

 

Every once in a while the past throws us for a loop. In this mini-novel the older, separated parents choose their daughterÕs wedding to reconnect. I hope people have fun with this one-line refrain and with filling in the gaps in this narrative.

 

Fire Creek Lullaby

 

This was written for my wife, Karly, on our honeymoon. It still rings true today.

 

Save the Lady

 

This was written during the refurbishing of the Statue of Liberty. The fundraising slogan was ÒSave the Lady.Ó It was my first of many songs about immigration. I felt it belonged on this project.

 

Earthmover

 

This song by the talented Forrest Whitlow gives voice to my own disgrace and disbelief at our countryÕs failings at a time when we have so much power to do good in the world. My contribution was a harmonica solo that echoed this feeling.

 

 

 

 

 


 

Come To The Land     (capo up 5 in C)

 

G         G/C     C         G         G/C     D

Storm in a bottle. Shine on his shoes.      

Carlos meets the Governor. Paying all those dues.

Ink on the paper. Now law of the Land.

(But the) tongue of his fathers, this man will never understand.

 

Em                                          C                     Am                  D        

ThereÕs no Statue of Liberty where the Armadillo play.

CanÕt you hear the angels calling to Maria and Jose?

G                     D                     C                                 D

Come to the land where freedom is so frail.

Come to the land where the angels sit in jail.

refrain

G                     G/C     G                     G/C     G         G/C     D

Come to the land. Come to the land. Come to the land.

 

Jack is Immigration. The Border looks so wide.

ThereÕs no Ellis Island dignity, just a lot of room to hide.

ThereÕs a legal way to do it, brown, white or black.

But he hates to see the faces of those he sends back.

There is no fence or rifle that is stronger than this lure.

CanÕt you hear the angels trading dollars for a cure?

Come to the land where medicine is magic.

Come to the land where the angels canÕt afford it.

refrain

 

Turban on his forehead. Sand in his blood.

Dr. Ahmed mops the fellowship hall. Patience against mud.

His English is still broken. His spirit is like steel.

He dreams of a little practice, another chance to heal.

But when people see his face, the TV headshots come.

Their enemy within, their hearts beat like a drum.

All they see is Palestinians cheering 9/11.

Men strapping on dynamite as their passport into heaven.

Come to the land where no man serves a king.

Come to the land where the angels are waitressing.

Refrain   Words and music by David B. Hakan      © 2005 All Rights Reserved 3-15-2005

 

 

ThereÕs a Storm                   (partial capo on 2nd fret, in E)

            D7                               G2                   D

ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild. /ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild.

G2, sus4                                                                    D

ItÕs roaring in from the ocean.

WonÕt leave much in its way.

Where the big storms have names like ÒCharlieÓ,

Ar3,4                                      Ar3      D

Ivan the Terrible arrived today.

ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild. /ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild.

There are profits from military spending.

There are prophets of hate on every shore.

There are poor willing to wear bombs or rifles.

This twister is knocking on our door.

ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild. /ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild.

ItÕs way past the point of the spear, now.

ItÕs way past the point of prayer.

ItÕs way past the broken guardrail.

WeÕre sailing out into air.

ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild. /ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild.

Our voting is controlled by governors.

They lean left or they lean right.

Their handpicked count votes in secret,

the machinery kept out of sight.

ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild. /ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild.

Where are the saints when we need them?

Do they care about you and me?

Do they care that Power and Corruption

are washing over the Land of the Free?

ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild. /ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild.

I go down to see my doctor,

for this hailstorm in my head,

wait in a long line at the drugstore,

then go and get some Jim Beam instead.

ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild. /ThereÕs a storm, saints alive, running wild.

My neighbors meet under the streetlight.

ThereÕs a break in the clouds above.

We shake hands and look into faces

and remember the power of love.

Words and music by David B. Hakan 9-12-2004   © 2004 All Rights Reserved

 


 

 

 

Makerman                             capo on 5th fret in C

 

G                                                         C

Long ago before there was writing

G                                                         C         D

there lived a man who couldnÕt hunt or run.

G                                                         C

But in his tribe he held his head up.

G                                                         C         G

They called him Maker and their favorite son.

 

 Em                                         C

He made the braid so the rope was stronger.

G                                             D

He made the knot that held it tight.

Now they had milk as well as cow flesh.

He built the fire that warmed the night. 

 

C                     G                     Em        C        

Makerman, Makerman, play on your lyre.

Makerman, Makerman, weave the music so fine.

Makerman, Makerman, tell us a story.

C                                 D                     G

Make our hearts dance & the words all rhyme.

 

One day a girl begged the Maker,

ÒI want to be a maker, too.Ó

ÒWell you must pray and ask the spirit

to find your heart and come to you.

 

For when I make a tool that sharpens,

the Great One sharpens me.

And when you finally cage the tiger

then the Spirit will set you free.Ó

refrain

 

There was drought and there was hardship.

There came a tribe across the River Fear.

Their first taste of theft and violence.

But he would not make more deadly spears.

 

They brought him wood to build a stockade

to keep them out and to shoot from.

He built a bridge across the water.

He went over and learned their tongue. (and they said,)

 

Refrain

 

Words and music by David B. Hakan 1-19-2005   

 © 2005 All Rights Reserved

 

 

 


 

The Front Porch Song                          (capo on 5th fret, in C)

G                                            C                     G

Crickets in the morning, cicadas  at night.

D                                             C         G

Squirrels all scampering out of sight.

the world on my front porch looks just fine

with the trees all swaying to this song of mine.

              C          G                  C         G            Am               C                    D                     G

On the front porch, on the front porch, the world looks better on my front porch.

YouÕre never too old for that front porch swing.

That gentle rocking is a sacred thing.

(WeÕve a) place inside needs a steady hand

till we plant our feet down and take a stand.

D                                             C                     G

(ThereÕs) poor and hungry all over the Earth

D                                             C         G

and ethnic wars making all this worse.

Em                                               C

I bring them to the porch and I want to cry

                                      D

but I lift them up to the blue in the sky.

Chorus

Friends and all my neighbors know theyÕll find me here,

strumming my guitar when the weatherÕs clear.

Singing to the sparrows swooping in the air.

EverybodyÕs welcome to a front porch chair.

Tell me how youÕre doing. did your basement flood?

Thanks for the ladder and the two-by-four stud.

Thank our lucky stars we can share this block

and count on each other when we need to talk.

chorus

EverybodyÕs front porch has a different style,

hammocks or cupboards or toys in a pile,

tablecloth dining or tools of the trade,

but weÕre one big family in our front porch shade.

Gladiolas, Morning Glories, stars and stripes,

Glowing jack-o-lanterns, Christmas lights.

Sweep it out in spring to begin anew

when the Daffodils riot and the Crocus bloom.

chorus

Words and music by David B. Hakan 9-26-2004   © 2004 All Rights Reserved


 

Shawnee Farm

 

 

B                                                A                  E                                                        

Our Shawnee Farm goes back to 1840

B                                                A                  E                                                        

The tombstones tell that life was harder then.

B                                                A                  E                                                        

John and I now sit out on the back porch

B                                                A                  E                                                        

when the light is low and the day is at its end.

 

Years ago we stopped using the front porch.

You can see the city sprawl from that door.

The glow is like a stain upon the night sky.

Tell me, what do they need all those street lights for?

 

 

Eup7                                      Eup5

Every year John works a little harder.

Eup7                                      Eup5

All that shows is the muscle in his arm.

Eup7                                      Eup5

The cityÕs bound to win the final contest.

Eup7              Eup5                          E

And whoÕs gonna miss a little Shawnee Farm?

 

The metro city suburbs have outflanked us.

Now, they claimed a road must connect the north and south.

All those folks need to hurry through our soybeans

that we barely saved from the cut worms and the drought.

 

The moonset in the west was such a comfort.

Now we look out on the pests and insect swarms.

High school kids are the only ones who drive here.

Tell me, what do we need all those streetlights for?

 

refrain

 

John is turning 80 and still my hero.

He didnÕt take the assessment lying down.

They took a hundred thousand dollars for that roadway

and paid us twenty nine for that 3 mile strip of ground.

 

He went to court to fight the city lawyers.

And he came back with a lot, well a little, more.

Now, they claim we made a killing on the improvement.

Tell me, what do we need all those streetlights for?

 

refrain

 

Friday last John talked to our banker.

Then he drank his health until he was a little tight.

He sat out on the back porch with his rifle

and shot out three or four of those damn lights.

 

His family's owned this land through feast and hardship

from the days of the great Civil War.

ItÕs not a place we get our mail itÕs our homestead.

Tell me, what do we need all those streetlights for?

 

Words And Music By David B. Hakan 9-14-93

 

© 1993 All Rights Reserved

 


 

Winter in My Soul

E                                                         B?

Come here quick or youÕll miss it, Honey.

A?                                                       A

The yeast is spreading across the bowl.

Bring those eggs but be slow and careful.

Baking bread will keep out the cold.

 A                                B

Knead it till it pushes back.

It spends an hour rising on the rack.

In a while we will turn the bowl.

I bake bread when itÕs winter in my soul.

Set the logs with some air between them.

Crumple paper underneath them now.

yes, itÕs cheating to use charcoal lighter.

But the flames cure this chill somehow.

Pop and hiss of seasoned oak.

Let the warmth sink in and soak.

Cats curl up near orange coals.

I light a fire when itÕs winter in my soul.

Bend way down to the waterÕs level.

Skip the rock aiming straight and low.

Roll your pants up and wade out farther

till the fish nibble at your toes.

Listen to the riverÕs song.

Life is slippery you must float along.

Past the rocks and the highs and lows.

I find the river when itÕs winter in my soul.

Words and music by David B. Hakan 4-15-2004

© 2004 All Rights Reserved

 

 

Last Letter Home     (Capo on second fret, in A)

G                                                         C

I met Kori on the way to CÕOeur de Lain.           

            G                                             D

My silence set her talking of her life.

She drove a cab in Buffalo. Now sheÕs started letting go

of voices that had trapped her deep inside.

I asked her if sheÕd lost somebody close.

She said she was the one who slipped away.

In her dreams her friends all cry around her casket asking why

they could not find the words to make her stay.

refrain

C                     G                                            

Letting go, slipping away.

D                                                         G-Am-G

I just had to see  you, one last time.

            C                     G

Almost home, IÕm on my way,

D                     C                        G

just to say hello one last time.

Well, I must have listened to her talk for hours.

Nothing else to do while on that train.

She finally started winding down, a little mirror to my frown.

She took my hand as if she guessed my pain.

refrain

Words and music by David B. Hakan 8-9-2004

© 2004 All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fire Creek Lullaby

D                         G - Ar3sus4

When the winter falls,

D                                 G - Ar3sus4

when the night sets in,

D                                 G - Ar3sus4

blankets to our chins

                        D                     G - Ar3sus4

dancing candlelight upon our walls,

G                     Ar3sus4

I will be with you.

Through wind and stone,

through light and shadow,

like water that gathers sunlight

tumbling over the falls,

with you IÕll go.

D            A

With you.

G                                      A

When the scars open up again,

D           A

With you.

G                                                A

When the ghosts in the mirror grin,

D           A

With you.

G                                             A

How I hate to hear you cry at night. So

G                       Asus4 - A

Look to your tomorrows. And

G            Ar3sus4 - D

hold me tight.

When hopes fail again,

when my nightmares start,

though I hide my heart

I will keep it safe/ in your hands.

 IÕll try to let you know.

When they come from all sides,

panic as thick as a snowstorm,

I count on you to lay me down

 and bundle the day in promise

 so our love stays warm.

refrain

Words and music by David B. Hakan   8-12-91

 


 

Therapy     (capo up 5 in C)

 

G         G/C     rocking

A comfy chair, a cup of tea

G         G/C                             D         C

a book about a place IÕll never see.

G         G/C

HowÕd that cat get curled up in my lap?

G         C         D         G  G/C

ItÕs therapy, therapy.

A gentle rain all day long.

I get my poncho and slosh along.

An hour later howÕd I end up at my door?

ItÕs therapy, therapy.

Refrain

            D         C         G         D         C         G

Take a long slow breath. Wind on down.

Spare no expense. Lose that frown.

Em                                                                  C                     D

Just let the world just turn a little while without your push.

ItÕs therapy.

 

Friends are singing, by firelight.

Hearts are lifted up into the night.

HowÕd we stay up till the break of day?

ItÕs therapy, itÕs therapy.

 

Camping tent, coffee on the stove,

Alpine meadow where no car goes.

Now those Republicrats donÕt bother me.

ItÕs therapy, itÕs therapy.

Refrain

 

The next time your heart is sick. Find whatever does the trick.

ItÕs not selfish. ItÕs what you need.

ItÕs therapy,  itÕs therapy.

refrain

Words and music by David B. Hakan

© 2005 All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

Just a Breath Away  (Partial capo up 5, capo up 1 in C)

 

F                      Gsus4                            C

So now the time has come for fare thee wellÕs,

Just when we donÕt want to leave each otherÕs side.

But what IÕve got to do you canÕt be part of now.

IÕm traveling light and IÕm traveling wide.

 

Let me tell you about the bottom of the ocean.

Let me help you climb to the top of a tree.

Let me tell you about a heart that knows no distance.

ThatÕs how it will be for you and me.

 

refrain

B2                   F                                                          C                               

When your heart hears my song on the evening breeze,

When you feel a kiss from the ocean spray,

And when the dark folds gently around you,

B2                                 F                                G

ThatÕs when weÕll be just a breath away.

 

I know it looks like Fate is against us.

What good could come from misery?

But there is more than footsteps we share in life.

A good bow sends an arrow straight and free.

 

Refrain

 

So now the time has come for fare thee wellÕs,

Just when we donÕt want to leave each otherÕs side.

In the darkest storm, IÕll come back to you,

To find your light and arms open wide.

 

Words and music by David B. Hakan    

 © 2005 All Rights Reserved 6-8-2005 

 

 

Stairway of Time     (capo up 5 in C)

G                                 C

He stepped off the bus in a stubborn-jaw town,

D                                             C         G

Boards on the windows, the wind blowing round.

His cell phone said nothing, so he packed it away.

His watch only told him he was ten years late.

He walked down a gravel road and stuck out his thumb.

A rusty El Camino picked him up on the run.

He pushed his DadÕs doorbell, heard a wedding bell chime

And fell to the bottom of the stairway of time.

            Dr3     C  G    G  Dr3  C       Dr3  C   D      Dr3     C  G

The cab at the airport was a new minivan.

In her one good pants suit she felt dressed like a man.

The hotel was bigger than her town stacked up high.

She carried her own bags, thank you, and they didnÕt ask why.

In six lanes of traffic for an hour or more.

She found her MomÕs townhouse and knocked on the door.

It swung wide with perfume and silk satin shine

And she fell to the bottom of the stairway of time.

 

He looked at his sister, and she looked at him,

the gray in his hair. She once was so slim.

But this church held them both like the whisper of home

As they looked at Baby Sis now with a man of her own.

ÒDo you think Dad will come?Ó ÒLord only knows.Ó

ÒDo you think Mom will come?Ó ÒShe promised to show.Ó

But the music had started and the bride looked so fine

As they fell to the bottom of the stairway of time.

 

Parched to the bone, the old man stopped for a drink.

HeÕd traveled this far, but still had to think.

She couldnÕt believe the old soda fountain survived.

Adding Coco to chocolate, she wafted inside.

YouÕd have thought that lightning had struck that place,

When after ten years they finally stood face to face.

At their table they didnÕt notice a car with tin cans behind

Ôcause they fell to the bottom of the stairway of time.

 

Words and music by David B. Hakan  © 2005 All Rights Reserved 3-15-2005

 

 

Like a Prayer

G                                             C

Jenny starts to wonder if a woman's right to choose

D                                 C                                             G

will go the way of handwritten love letters.

Steve says maybe it's time to revive the ERA.

We all agree, but we know better.

 

REFRAIN

C                                             D

Johnny picks up that old guitar

            G                                 Em

and our voices settle in there

              C                               D            G

(to that) old familiar song like a prayer.

 

Betty says her partner, Kris, told her news of the adoption.

It's illegal in this state, the lawyer said.

Frank offers to marry Betty, just to put the papers through,

then the child could have  a loving home with 2 moms instead.

refrain

 

Peter says the oil companies have finally got Alaska.

His friend up there doesn't have the heart to stick around.

To see the end of the caribou and the last wild place on earth.

The bill's not even passed but they're clearing ground.

refrain

C                                             D                     G                                     Em

Young folks say we've failed in our hopes to change the world.

C                                    Am        D7

That compromise is our Achilles heel.

C                                             D                     G                     Em

Yes, radical changed to rational, or maybe we just got tired.

C                                                         D         G

But our love of truth still governs how we feel.

Refrain

Words And Music By David B. Hakan 11/15/2000

© 2000 David B. Hakan   All rights reserved.

 

 

 

Save The Lady

D                                    A11                          G2,maj7

Here I stand with my back turned toward America,

D                                   A11               G2,maj7

but it's her promise I hold up to the sea.

D                                 A11                         G2,maj7

Sons of immigrants raise their fists at aliens, funny.

D                       A11                       G2,maj7

They still look tired and poor to me.  Oh, to me.

C                                             D

People worry that I'll fall into decay,

C                                                           D

That the cold salt air will crumble me away.

C                                                D

But when they feel me crying, "Save the Lady"

E                                                         A

I'm thinking of my sister, the U.S.A.

I know it's hard to settle for your lot in life.

Lord, you know I've had my times.

I cried when I learned I'd never walk the land of the free,

'till I saw a poor statue made of unlit stone. Unlit stone.

refrain

I can hear the whispers of America.

Sometimes they make me feel like I stand alone.

Is there no one here who's grateful for their freedom

enough to welcome strangers to their home? To their home.

refrain

Here I stand with my back turned toward America.

And I promise I'll never turn away.

You must all share the dream that you've now harvested,

to keep the winds of prejudice at bay.  Oh, at bay.

Oh, save the Lady.  Oh, save the Lady.  Oh, save the Lady.

Words and music by David B. Hakan   6-11-86

© 1986 All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

Earthmover  by Forrest Whitlow

 

A2                                                       Em

I saw a tiny soccer mom driving an earthmover today,

G6                                           D2

Polluting the landscape with intimidation and waste.

In-flight movies for her 2.2 kids.

Cell phone headset because you know conversations canÕt wait.

 

 

Refrain

Em                              C

This is us. This is who we have become. 

G2                               D2

Plasma TVs and our million-dollar homes.

Em                              C

Bigger better stronger, always the best.

G2

The world is a safer place

D2                                           Em

 all because of the good old USA.

C         G2 – D2 – Em – C – G2 – D2

Hey hey hey.

 

 

Big-city buildings lavishly composed,

Brand new stadiums for our football rodeos,

Traders exchange capital for products they never see.

 While some family farm goes on the market today.

 

Refrain

 

We throw our weight around all because we can.

Find some easy scapegoat and bomb the heck out of them.

Thank God in our churches that we have the biggest guns.

Security comes with a price of our daughters and our sons.

Refrain

© 2005 Forrest Whitlow  All Rights Reserved

 

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