The Ballad of Richard and Mary Helen

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There was a young woman whose name was Mary.
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She made grown men cry, she was just that scary.
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But one young man she did bewitch,
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And his name was Rich.

Folks thought they were crazy or not that bright,
But they knew in their hearts that the feeling was right.
Though most assumed she’d never get hitched,
Well, she did to Rich.

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Richard and Mary Helen!
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Their love would span the years.
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The vows they spoke were from the heart,
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Though they weren’t for children’s ears.

Before too long she began to increase,
And they knew from then they'd have no peace.
Though it frightened both kin and kith,
She bred with Rich.

They had two boys, each worse than the other,
And just one girl as bad as her mother.
Folks did say they were the mail man’s get,
But they came from Rich

Richard and Mary Helen!
They did the best they could.
Their kids weren’t bad, thought most would say
They also weren’t all that good.

(Bridge: D G ADom7 D)

Slower
The years went by - they grew long in the tooth,
But they loved each other and that's the truth.
A miracle happened when Mary met Rich,
A tempo
That lucky son of a -- Yeehaw!

Richard and Mary Helen!
They spent their life together.
And all they ways they thought it would be,
They would tell you it was better.

Older

When I was just a girl
I had so many thoughts about love.
Now that I'm older
I just want someone to come home to.

I used to think that
eyes were windows.
Now that I'm older
I just want someone who will see me.

I don't need anybody else.
I do just fine on my own.
And everything I am
is everything.
But I don't want to die alone.
I don't want to die.

I used to have so many
things to say.
Now that I'm older
I just want someone I can talk to.

I always wanted
to know everything.
Now that I'm older
I just want someone who'll understand me.

It’s just an ordinary hope
for such and ordinary life
where everything you are
is everything
And I don’t want to die alone.
I don’t want to die.

Holy, holy

In this temple
of hollow holiness,
a mind collapses
with the solitude.

We have nothing but our bodies and
our spirits calling for another day.
And terrible the kindness of an old revelation.
Terrible the voices in our heads.

In this city,
in the alleyways,
the fevered glances
of a million different faces.

Light that falls from shuttered windows,
the space between forgotten longings.
And angel choirs singing out their hallelujahs,
calling to the voices in our heads.

Whispered words pass
from lips to lips.
An ancient verse to
carry on our shoulders.

We have nothing,
we have everything
that spills from cracks in cobbled city streets.

Holy, holy sings an angel choir.
Holy, holy shout the people
and the streets are ringing out with sounds of hallelujah,
echoed by the voices in our heads.

Imperfect Day

Monday morning, same as the one before.
Sometimes I think I can't do this anymore.
Then I feel you put your hand in mine,
saying, "Darling, everything's gonna be fine."

Car is broken, bills are piling high.
Sometimes I don't know how I'll ever get by.
Then I see you smiling down at me,
saying, "Darling, what will be will be."

On an imperfect day, it will be okay
with you right by side.
And if the days are long,
then it won't be wrong
to hold you through the night.

Friday evening, working late again.
Sometimes it seems like this day will never end.
Then I hear your voice on the telephone,
saying, "Darling, I can't wait for you to come home."

And when you smile,
it's all worthwhile,
the things that we must do
for an imperfect day
to be okay.
They're better spent with you.

All For You

Waves and wonder,
songs of summer
where time's askew
and hearts all new.
This broken glass,
this love that lasts,
this distant view -
it's all for you.

Your hands, your face,
a holy place.
Your voice a call
within my soul.
The shifting sand
a golden band
to mark the view
that's all for you.

No more waiting for the sunrise -
Light will always shine through your eyes.
Every morning all because of you.

A storm, the wind,
a new beginning.
And morning dew -
the world's all new.
A quiet hour,
an ancient power,
this lofty view -
it's all for you.

Your hands, your face,
your voice a call
within my soul
that's all for you.

People are all vampires

Your words are calm
But your voice sounds thin.
"Did you ever really let me in?"
If thoughts are dead
and words are all,
these letters are all six feet tall.

You wish that I could
let them go,
these troubles that have bound me so.
But I only know how to
be contained.
This nature is my only friend.

These people all are vampires,
needing blood to live.
Open wide - what's inside
is all I have to give.
But it's okay, I'm not mad; I'm a vampire, too.

In the end,
when mountains fall,
these letters will be standing still.
If thoughts are dead
but hearts survive,
ghosts are what will keep us alive.

Every breath that I exhale
is one more death I die.
The air we breath mingled with
other people's lives.
But it's okay, I'm not mad; I'm a vampire, too.

Marilyn

If only I had known
yesterday, yesterday
to memorize your smile,
oh Marilyn, Marilyn.

Tomorrow may not come
for all of us, all of us,
and today is almost over,
oh Marilyn, Marilyn.

If all that I have left
is the smell of your perfume
and the empty space
beside me.
I will not forget
the sound of your voice
singing, Marilyn, oh Marilyn.

All the words we've shared
are not enough, not enough
to tell you how I feel,
oh Marilyn, Marilyn

So I will ask God
for one more day, one more day
and one more chance to sing
with you, Marilyn, Marilyn.

And our last song
I will carry in my heart
to keep you
near me.
And I will not forget
the sound of your voice
singing, Marilyn, oh Marilyn.

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