Pete Seeger, talking with Amy Goodman of “Democracy Now” in 2004, referred to “what my father called ‘the folk process,’ which happens all through all kinds of music, in fact, all culture, you might say: lawyers adapt old laws to suit new citizens, cooks adapt old recipes to fit new stomachs.” So here you have some new recipes of mine, which I hope will please your palate. Actually some are not so new, dating back decades. But all of them were inspired to some extent, small or great, by an earlier piece of music (whose title I have placed in parentheses).
Call Me the Whale (The Greenland Whale Fisheries) (1980)
Written one night between 2 and 6 AM. Since then I have changed “implements” to “instruments.” It never would have been written if “Ishmael” in Moby Dick did not rhyme with “whale.” I am forever grateful to Debby McClatchy for recording this song, my first cover recording.
Call me the whale for that’s what I am
And that’s what I aim to be
You may call yourselves the kings of the land
But I am the king of the sea, brave boys
Yes I am the king of the sea.
You came after me in your matchstick boats
With your harpoons poised for the kill
When I looked you in the eye I never saw you cry
But I know that I gave you a chill, brave boys
I know that I gave you a chill.
But I didn’t ever mean you any harm, brave boys
When I sent you to the bottom with my tail
I only meant to show you that you should have been at home
Instead of on the ocean chasing whales, brave boys
Instead of on the ocean chasing whales
But you never got the message so more and more you came
Till I ran out of places to hide
When your boats got so big that I could not bring you down
Then I knew you had turned the tide, brave boys
I knew you had turned the tide.
Now you hunt me down in your factory ships
And you never even touch me with your hands
In the morning I am playing with my babies in the waves
In the afternoon I’m packed into your cans, brave boys
In the afternoon I’m packed into your cans.
You’ve gotten so efficient with your instruments of death
That by now I’m barely alive
But if you treat each other the way you’ve treated me
I think I’m going to survive, brave boys
Yes I think I’m going to survive.
Henry the Accountant (John Henry) 1981
I tune the cuatro CEGCG, low to high. Henry is actually my middle name.
Henry was an accountant
He worked with a pencil in his hand
If you had something you needed added up
Henry the accountant was your man, Lord, Lord
Henry the accountant was your man
Henry the accountant was your man, Lord, Lord
Henry the accountant was your man.
When Henry was a little baby Sittin’ on his daddy’s knee
He picked up a crayon and a little piece of paper
He said “Two plus one equals three, Lord, Lord
Two plus one equals three.”
Well, the man who bought the first calculator
He thought he was mighty fine
He walked up to Henry with a sneer on his lip
He said “Your job is gonna be mine, Lord, Lord
Your job is gonna be mine.”
So Henry stood up and drew his weapon
He said “A man isn’t anything but a man
We’ll have ourselves a race and I’ll put you in your place
Or I’ll die with my pencil in my hand, Lord, Lord
I’ll die with my pencil in my hand.”
So each man grabbed a fifty pound ledger
And Henry went to work with all his might
Though his hand was gettin’ cramped and his shirt was gettin’ damp, still
He swore that he would not give up the fight, Lord, Lord
He swore that he would not give up the fight.
After three long hours in battle
The man with the machine had moved ahead
Yeah, he had Henry beat ‘till on the final sheet
Suddenly his batteries went dead Lord, Lord
Suddenly his batteries went dead.
So Henry beat that calculator
Now his powers could never be denied
But the terrible strain had been too much for his brain, so
He laid down his glasses and he died, Lord, Lord
He laid down his glasses and he died.
So they buried Henry in the graveyard
With his trusty pencil and his pad
And when their checks don’t clear they always shed a tear
For the last human being who could add, Lord, Lord
The last human being who could add
Just Another War (Rule Britannia) 1983
I have been singing this song for 25 years, warning that wars don’t always turn out precisely as planned. If only Donald Rumsfeld attended folk concerts!
The tune of the first two lines of the chorus was composed by Thomas Augustine Arne.
The bitter snows of June across the deck are thundering
Like bullets from a gun
For seven frozen weeks this soldier has been wondering
Will I ever see the sun?
Now you can call me “Pete “or you can call me “Pedro”
What’s the difference in a name?
One leader calls them “Falklands” the other says “Malvinas”
To them both it’s just a game.
Chorus:
They say “It’s war, war, war, it’s just another war
It’s not the end of the world”
But if there’s one too many wars then there won’t be any more
No more wars, women, men, boys or girls.
The politicians cheered and waved us into battle
To save the national pride
But they never breathed the smoke or heard the cannons rattle
Or took a bullet in the side.
Chorus
Governments, flags, borders all are fleeting
In an hour they disappear
But somehow the drums of war never stop their beating
Year after bloody year.
Chorus
Underneath the Stars Above (When Irish Eyes Are Smiling) 1984
I wrote this when I was attending the Cornelia Street Songwriters’ Exchange in Greenwich Village in the nineteen-eighties. I was also playing and singing a lot of Irish music.
If “hand” didn’t rhyme with “understand”
If “moon” didn’t rhyme with “June”
If “I love you” didn’t rhyme with “true”
I’d have no tune to croon.
If “dance” didn’t rhyme with “romance”
No one could write songs of love
Then what on earth would we sing about
Underneath the stars above?
We’d have to sing about physics
Or maybe a laundromat
But nobody here would shed a tear
For something as silly as that.
Imagine a lovely chanteuse
On stage at the cabaret
Milking the crowd for all they’re worth
With a song about tooth decay.
But desire always kindles a fire
The heart always knows from the start
Heavenly bliss comes with a kiss
And nothing can pull them apart.
For all these words were invented
To fit like a hand in a glove
Every time we need a rhyme
Underneath the stars above
I Had an Old Coat (I Had a Little Overcoat/Crawdad/Froggie Went a-Courting) 1985
The words keep evolving, kind of like the coat. There is even a clever extension by the amazing David Roth, which doubles the length of the song:
“When that button began to shred I stretched it out to a piece of thread
When that thread was just a hint I had a little piece of lint
When that lint was barely just I had a little bit of dust
When that dust was just a fleck I had a teeny tiny speck
When that speck was just a follicule I had a teeny tiny molecule
When that molecule was neither sir nor madame I had a rather dainty atom
When that atom was in the dark we’ve worked our way down to a quark.”
© David Roth. I now sing it with the lyrics below, slightly changed from the version recorded live at Speak Easy in New York for my King of Hearts album.
I had an old coat and the coat got torn, what’ll I do? (what’ll I do?) 2x
I had an old coat and the coat got torn
So I cut it down and a jacket was born
And I sing every day of my life.
In a couple of years those threads got thin, what’ll I do? (what’ll I do?) 2x
In a couple of years those threads got thin
So I called it a shirt and I tucked it in
And I sing every day of my life.
Then the sleeves wore out in the East and West, what’ll I do? (what’ll I do?) 2x The sleeves wore out in the East and West
So I pulled them off and I had a vest And I sing every day of my life.
But the vest got stained with cherry pie, what’ll I do? (what’ll I do?) 2x
The vest got stained with cherry pie
So I cut and sewed ‘til I had a tie
And I sing every day of my life.
And when that tie was looking lean, what’ll I do? (what’ll I do?) 2x
When that tie was looking lean
I made a patch for my old blue jeans
And I sing every day of my life.
And when that patch was next to nuttin’, what’ll I do? (what’ll I do?) 2x
When that patch was next to nuttin’
I rolled it up into a button
And I sing every day of my life.
And when that button was almost gone, what’ll I do? (what’ll I do?) 2x
When that button was almost gone
With what was left I made this song
Which I sing every day of my life.
I Can’t Remember Wintertime (Ich Grolle Nicht) 1985
Vacationing on the French Riviera in 1985, I noticed the great number of German tourists enjoying the beaches, apparently unmindful of the history of enmity between the two countries. I was moved to write this song of reconciliation, the melody inspired by the first five tones of Robert Schumann’s “Ich Grolle Nicht” (“I Bear no Grudge”).
July is here, it’s filling all the beaches
With laughing kids so innocent and free
And virgin lovers eating figs and peaches
And tired old men like you and me
And tired old men like you and me.
And as we sit beside each other
Your body frail, the same as mine
I can’t believe you’re not my brother
I can’t remember wintertime
I can’t believe you’re not my brother
I can’t remember wintertime.
Last night we held our yearly celebration
The one your people call “Tag der Bastille”
Again I cursed the years of Occupation
A wound that time has yet to heal
A wound that time has yet to heal.
But as we sit beside each other
Your memories dark, the same as mine
I can’t believe you’re not my brother
I can’t remember wintertime
I can’t believe you’re not my brother
I can’t remember wintertime.
Our fathers met upon the field of slaughter
And you and I repeated history
I pray these children playing in the water
Will never know such misery
Will never know such misery.
And as we sit beside each other
Your dreams of peace, the same as mine
I can’t believe you’re not my brother
I can’t remember wintertime
I can’t believe you’re not my brother
I can’t remember wintertime.
The Halls of a Hospice (The Streets of Laredo) 1988
“The Streets of Laredo” derives from the English “The Unfortunate Rake,” which, I discovered after writing the song, has such STD-related verses as:
“And had she but told me before she disordered me,
Had she but told me of it in time,
I might have got pills and salts of white mercury,
But now I’m cut down in the height of my prime.”
A big “Thank you” to Susan Grant for her folkloric tip!
One night as I walked down the halls of a hospice
I saw a young man with a deadly disease
“Come sit down beside me,” he called from his bedroom
I sat down beside him to give his heart ease.
He said “When I was younger I felt like a stranger
Whatever I tried it was always the same
I came to New York unaware of the danger
Just like a moth who is drawn to the flame.
“I went to the places where men find each other
I felt like myself for the very first time
I sought after pleasure and now-and-then treasure
For that I’ve been sentenced to die in my prime.
“That TV evangelist says I deserve it
He says that I’m paying the wages of sin
But if it is suffering that makes us more holy
I’ll meet him in heaven, if he can get in.
“Tonight my dark cloud will crawl in through the window
To carry me off on a journey unknown
But there is a shining on that dark cloud’s lining
From people like you and the kindness you’ve shown.
“So go to the window and see that it’s open
Then take this farewell to my family and friends
Tell them I loved them much more than I showed them
And ask them to think of me now and again.”
As soon as the last of his words was delivered
The young man lay back, for to rest his poor bones
I opened the window and silently shivered
For I suddenly knew I was there all alone.
One night as I walked down the halls of a hospice...
So I Could Get to You (Rolling Down to Old Maui) 1990
In honor of all my ancestors who did what they had to do to grow up, reproduce and make sure at least one child reached adulthood. Not an easy thing to do, ever!
My mother cried, my mother moaned, so early one midsummer’s morn
And with one final heaving groan to her a child was born
She suckled me upon her breast and she and Dad did all the rest
To ready me to leave the nest so I could get to you.
Chorus:
So I could get to you, my love
No road too long, no sea too rough
For I was made of sterner stuff
So I could get to you.
I found that life is just a play, you strut and fret upon the stage
You learn the lines you have to say and try to act your age
I was sometimes up and sometimes down and sometimes
I went ’round and ’round But I escaped the lost and found so I could get to you.
Chorus
In hurricanes with crashing trees, in thunderstorm and winter gale
A steady voice was telling me to stay upon your trail
Through drifting snow and sheets of ice I kept my eyes on paradise
As I used every known device so I could get to you.
Chorus
And when at last I saw you there, holding out your valentine
I shrank with fear and would not dare to cross the borderline
I was stumbling blind without a guide when something moved me deep inside
To leap across the great divide so I could get to you.
Chorus
And now that we have joined our fate, we’re touching deep within the heart
Though sometimes we must separate we’ll never be apart
And as I stand beneath the sun and think of what I’ve lost and won
I thank my stars for all I’ve done so I could get to you.
Chorus
Vacation Time (My Favorite Things) 1994
The tune was inspired by McCoy Tyner’s piano vamp in the opening bars of the classic Coltrane version of Richard Rodgers’s “My Favorite Things.” Doug Plavin is playing with brushes on a huge, empty lard can which he picked up on Swan’s Island, Maine, coincidentally just across the water from where my family spends our vacation each summer.
No mail, no phone, no thoughts of home
Removed, remote, out in a boat
Vacation time.
No rat, no race, no train to chase
Take off my shoes, shake off the blues
Vacation time, vacation time.
Laze away the day, slower than a gin fizz
If I don’t make hay tell me what the sin is.
These fish won’t bite but that’s all right
I guess they’ve gone somewhere to spawn
Vacation time, vacation time, vacation time.
No mail, no phone, no thoughts of home
Don’t write, don’t call until the fall
Vacation time, vacation time, vacation time, vacation time.
The Voice of Pete (Joe Hill) 1995
For Pete Seeger. Pete does not appreciate testimonials, so let’s keep this one between you and me. The tune is by Earl Robinson. The guitar is in Pete Seeger tuning, dropped D, but playing in G as he likes to do.
I dreamed I heard the voice of Pete singing strong and free
Says I, “But Pete, you lost your voice,”
“It never died,” said he
“It never died,” said he.
You used it up at concert halls, and all those picket lines
Says Pete, “I lost my vocal cords, my voice is doing fine
My voice is doing fine.
“Though some would say my voice has died, it’s never been as strong
As when it comes back amplified by those who sing along
By those who sing along.
“For I am like the shantyman who stands before the gale
And helps us pull together so we all can raise the sail
We all can raise the sail.”
And just before my dream was o’er he left me with these words
“When what you sing comes from the heart you always will be heard
You always will be heard.”
RePete first verse.
The Promise (The Overland Trail) 2004
While driving home after dropping my daughter Siena at college, I put on the instrumental “The Overland Trail” by Dáithí Sproule. I soon found words flooding my mind, amid intense feelings of love, loss and hope. Dáithí is one of my musical heroes, a great singer, superb and influential guitarist, and, it turns out, an inspiring composer.
What a memory you made for your mother and me
When the miracle of childbirth turned two into three
Then I cradled you close and I promised that day
I’d let nothing stand in your way.
Chorus:
Whatever you dream of, whatever you long for
Whatever you wish on a star to come true
All you desire when your heart catches fire
I promise it will come to you.
Then you learned how to talk and you learned how to sing
Like a little bird inside a nest, but birds all have wings
So you learned how to fly, now you’re flying away
But remember these words that I say:
Chorus
Run, Al, Run (Zudio, Shortening Bread) 2007
After I wrote the chorus, the verses wouldn’t come until I thought of the African- American dance/song I had been teaching my second grade music students: “Walking down the alley and what do I see? I see a great big man from Tennessee.”
Chorus: Run, Al, run
How can you lose when you already won
Way back before all the damage was done
Now you’re the number one favorite son
So run, Al, run.
I went to the movies and what did I see?
I saw a great big man from Tennessee
To walk the red carpet must be fun
But there’s a time to walk and a time to run.
So...
Chorus
Lots of good senators think they’ll win
But when’s the last time we put a senator in?
You’ve got the clout, you’ll get the dough
So here’s my message: Ready, set, go!
And...
Chorus
Lately the While House is quite well known
For having lots of lights on but no one home
You’re in the major leagues, Al, not the bush
So put on your sneakers and move your tush.
And...
Chorus
You gave up the game when you got burned
But the times have changed and we all have learned
You ain’t no stiff and you ain’t no liar
The earth needs you now to put out the fire.
So...
Chorus
To Stop the War (To Stop the Train) 2007
Recorded in Albany’s Holiday Inn, with a video camera microphone, for a YouTube video. I have always loved “To Stop the Train,” a round (apparently written by Pat Shaw) which can be sung in 12 parts. It is presented here as I learned the tune at a “Spring Thing,” run by the Philadelphia Folksong Society. Jean Romsted has suggested “friends and lovers” as an alternative to “wives and husbands.” An excellent idea!
To stop the war the
Senate and the House have got to
Cut off the funds
Bring home our sons
Daughters, wives and husbands get them
Out right now!
Siegfried (Swan Lake) 1976
Music by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. Of course we have to end with the album’s swan song. This is from my first demo, engineered and arranged by Yehuda Jordan Kaplan (no relation). I wrote it so I could perform “Swan Lake” without having to put on tights.
Siegfried now you’ve become a man
Please forget your childish dreams
Siegfried why can’t you understand
A swan will never be your queen.
Chorus: But one day I will learn to soar
High above the trees and the clouds
I’ll ride the wind with my perfect love
In the only place love is allowed.
Siegfried we know you’d love to fly
But your place is on the ground
Siegfried you’re always leaping high
Then you’re always coming down.
Chorus
Siegfried what’s wrong with human love
Why go looking toward the stars
Young princesses are good enough
Who the hell d’you think you are?
Chorus
Siegfried was such a silly clown
Now he’s taken his own life
He jumped into the lake and drowned
Now he’ll never have a wife.
But today I have learned to soar
High above the trees and the clouds
I ride the wind with my perfect love
In the only place love is allowed.