1. |
Cub Reporter
02:48
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Cub reporter
Lives on tales and ad sales
And events no one else would have covered
Hungry for the bylines
Cub reporter
Dreams of rising to glory
With every new story submitted
Becoming a man of his time
Cub reporter
Holds true his beliefs
In the principles guiding his order
And living the life of his kind
Idealistic and proud, trying to make his name
First one in, last one out each and every day
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2. |
Clara Rockmore
02:05
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Clara Rockmore, interpreting the tone
Playing all night the phantoms' radio
She was the one who finally gave the ghosts a voice
Once they only had the wind
Now they have the theremin
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3. |
Shadow of the Weka
03:58
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4. |
Walking Staff
00:17
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My walking staff
Is four and a half feet long
And seasoned in the kiln of song
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5. |
Cranberry Bog
03:13
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Come to me through the northern fog
Knee deep in the cranberry bog
I'll play you a love song
I'll sing a chantey
For the driftless years, oh
To make the clouds clear
Find me in my harvest suit
Oilskins and the Wellington boot
I'll dance you a polka
I hope you'll dance with me
Through the driftless years, oh
We'll make the clouds clear
Come to me through the northern fog
I'll be waiting in the cranberry bog
To sing you a love song
I'll play a chantey
For the driftless years, oh
We'll make the clouds clear
With the red fruit of our lungs
And the earth over which we'll have come
To be among the cranberries
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6. |
Luna Pier
04:35
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Tous deux,
Nous nous en irons
Profiter des beaux jours de la saison
Là où les côtes magistrales
Rêvent de campagne
Nous parlerons...
Vieilles routes,
Longeant le maïs sucré
Après la récolte empilé
La musique douce, susurrée
Nous parlons...
Cette Bel Air,
Aux sièges crème glacée
Se languit à Luna Pier
Vrai symbole de l’été
Elle nous attend pour l’incarner
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7. |
Richard of York
00:16
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Richard of York gave battle in vain
When foxes are wed we remember his name
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8. |
Sa-Wa-Quato
02:54
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The sweetness of
The dimming sun
Behind the dock
The ice machine is humming
The muskellunge
And the northern pike
Sa-Wa-Quato
Their roof is your horizon
They built a parking lot on your home
But only the sun knows
And the back of the lake is shining, oh
Like trillium
Like winter into spring
Sa-Wa-Quato
Your telephone is ringing
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9. |
Eugene Laundry
01:38
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Eugene Laundry…
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10. |
The Hebridean Dram
03:48
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The cormorant's got a kink in his neck
Stands to dry his scythe's keen edge
All of the CalMac ferries have left
Sailing out from Kennacraig
Out where the Islay spirits play
Past salt-worn crofts
And soft waves tossed
In a sheltered bay
We go where we want
Every sense run amok
In this ancient place
On our Hebridean holiday
The cormorant's got a kink in his neck
Stands to dry his scythe's keen edge
Out where the CalMac ferries go west
From the port of Kennecraig
Over pastoral roads that lead
Up gentle hills
Past woolen mills
To distilleries
Where we all have a dram
In this windswept land
Of stone and peat
Far from our homes across the sea
Bunnahabhain, Caol Ila, Bruichladdich, Laphroaig
Ardbeg, Bowmore, Kilchoman, Lagavulin
The cormorant's got a kink in his neck
Stands to dry his scythe's keen edge
Watching the CalMac ferries go back
To the port of Kennacraig
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11. |
||||
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Walking on air
Bones and tendons working in concert
Translating my corporeal mass
What elation, this process!
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12. |
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I want to go out camping
Off the beaten path
I want to learn a little bit more
About sustaining myself
And building shelters, shanties, and shacks
Shelters, shanties, and shacks
The Adirondack
Shelters, shanties, and shacks
Or the hogan
Shelters, shanties, and shacks
On a balsam bed
Shelters, shanties, and…
Shelters, shanties, and shacks
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Timothy Monger Ypsilanti, Michigan
Solo artist, leader of Timothy Monger State Park, co-founder of Great Lakes Myth Society, curator of Log Variations, writer, and proprieter of Northern Detective.
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