Bob Michel, "The Oystermen's Ball": Complete Lyrics     Tell Us Again   Tell us a story ye lords of the earth Tell us the tale of your merit and worth I know you've told us so often before But it's such a good story please tell us once more   Let your wisdom come trickling down with your wealth Tell us again how you did it yourself Tell how your gifts brought you through in the crunch Tell us how no one gave you a free lunch   Show us the shortcuts to get what you've got The wristwork that severed the Gordian knot Which rules are sacred and which we can bend Tell us your secrets oh tell us again   Tell us your virtues again one by one And how they've made possible all that you've done All your fine qualities worthy of awe How your success proves the natural law   Tell us how level the playing field was Tell us how handsome is as handsome does Tell us it's not about earthly rewards Tell us how you owe it all to the Lord   Lift our poor hearts in our hour of need Tell us which parts of the Bible to read Tell us about your invisible friend Pity us sinners and tell us again   Lift our poor hearts in our hour of need Tell us which parts of the Bible to read Tell us about your invisible friend Tell us oh tell us oh tell us again   ©2004 by Bob Michel     Bridge Is Down Sweet Melinda come out of the rain Seen the last of the hurricane Spared the levee spared the town But you can't get home cause the bridge is down   Ain't so dreadful ain't so bad Sweet Melinda now don't be mad No fun in fussin honey no need to fret Come and sit beside me honey out of the wet   I can hear the barrelhouse piano Crankin out the hokum in the cool damp air They're kickin up a fuss back at the old Santa Anna Bet you wish you was over there   Swear on the Good Book don't mean you no harm Come on in the shack now where it's dry and warm Good Book says a man should not be alone Stay all night cause you can't get home   Cornbread's warm little fish are fryin I got a old hemp hammock and a jug of wine Stay with me and I'll treat you right Keep you warm and happy till the mornin light   Old Mrs. Leary's out lookin for her daughter You can hear her voice a callin all around the town Hear how it carries cross the high muddy water But she ain't gonna find you honey cause the bridge is down   Bridge is down in the river mud Boat can't make it out in the flood Ain't no other shelter for miles around Ain't no use complainin honey cause the bridge is down   River's high can't get back Hunker down beside me honey try to relax Don't you like me just a little by the settin sun Hope you like me better when the mornin come   I can hear the barrelhouse piano Hear the hokum hangin on the soft night air They're raisin up a ruckus out at the old Santa Anna But the bridge is down honey we don't care   ©2004 by Bob Michel      The Light Of Your Eyes   Come darling Molly sit down by my side Here by the hearth where the fire has died Linger awhile in the last light of day Stay lovely Molly as long as you may   Outside the shadows lie deep on the lawn Now that the long light of summer has gone Shadows lie deep but the darkness can't hide The warmth of your smile or the light of your eyes The warmth of your smile or the light of your eyes   Here by the embers where I sat alone I felt the autumn chill deep in my bones I felt the breeze from the passing of time Stay Molly dear put your warm hands in mine   Lighten my heart with the lilt of your laugh Let me draw heat from the flames of the past From the fire of our love in the long years gone by Let me grow warm by the light of your eyes Let me grow warm by the light of your eyes   I feel changes that I can't ignore I'm not the laddie that I was before I've years in me yet and I've no thought of dying But I find I look backwards the most of the time   Back to the blaze of our love first begun The passion that melted us two into one How it kindles anew when you're here by my side How I love you dear Molly and the light of your eyes How I love you dear Molly and the light of your eyes   ©2004 by Bob Michel     Leave This City   You never stop talkin About the places you been Now I hear you knockin But you can't come in Gonna leave this city Gonna catch a southbound train Gonna let the country Drive the blues out of my brain   You never stop talking About the things you need But you made it clear You got no need for me Gonna leave this city 'Cause it's getting chilly and cold I'm going up the country Put some sunshine in my soul   You never stop talkin About the people you know I keep hearin your name Every place I go Gonna leave this city My shoes are on my feet 'Cause you're makin the rounds Like a police on his beat   I see you walk around talkin On your telephone But whenever I call Babe you're not at home Gonna leave this city Gonna leave this town behind 'Cause these city women Can't satisfy my mind   You need a brand new dress You need a brand new car And you're always complainin About the way things are I'm gonna leave this city Before the whole place runs to rust I'm goin back up the country Where a man knows who to trust   You say come back baby And I'll treat you right But it's too late baby I'll be home tonight I'm gonna leave this city I'm taking one last trip I'm goin back up the country I done packed my grip   ©2004 by Bob Michel     Farewell To Ship John Shoal   Now the oystering's done and it's time to move on I hear deep waters call And for better or worse we're setting our course Past the rocks of Miah Maull   So farewell to Cross Ledge to the windlass and dredge To long days of wind and cold Farewell to the lights leading seaward tonight Farewell to Ship John Shoal   Now we left the old dock where the laughing gulls flock On Cohansey's briny bank And we're making our way out into the bay Past the bar where Ship John sank   And we're turning our minds to the ones left behind And the life we knew of old To the fun we had then with our lovers and friends Farewell to Ship John Shoal   Tomorrow we'll stand on the deck far from land Out beyond the Brandywine And we'll stare far away where the oyster beds lay And we'll think of happier times   And my thoughts linger there in the salty bay air Where the gentle breakers roll Till I go to my rest it's the place I'll love best Farewell to Ship John Shoal   ©2004 by Bob Michel     Let's Go Back     I'd like to hear you play an old-time hoedown tune tonight I'll back you up on guitar and I'll try to keep it tight Let's play it ragged but let's play it right   So tune up that old fiddle take the guitar from its case And let that old-time rhythm wipe the frown right off your face And let's go back to another time and place   Just tune out all the city noise and the pounding city beat And feel the way that Georgia shuffle makes you move your feet Kick off your shoes let down your hair and cut yourself some slack Tuck that fiddle underneath your chin and let's go back   Can't you hear the night train moaning as it rattles down the line Smell the lint down at the mills and the dust down in the mines And the woodsmoke hanging thick among the pines   Can't you see the careworn faces and the lines around the eyes Feel the hope that's in them of a home beyond the skies  And that crazy stubborn faith that we shall rise   And I hear those dear old melodies beyond the city noise Plain singing fancy picking honest lives and simple joys And I wish that I was on that train and rolling down that track I hear those ancient mountains calling honey let's go back   Well it's hard times and a hard life far away and long ago But when I hear a sweet old mountain lullaby somehow I know That that's my mama singing soft and low   So here's to Charlie and to Riley to Roscoe Dock and Wade Here's to Sara Maybelle old A.P. to Gid and Uncle Dave And here's to all the joyful noise they made   And when I think of all the joy they wrung from all that toil and pain I see them all together playing on that midnight train And I can close my eyes and hear the angel band and that's a fact They're rolling over Jordan and they're singing let's go back   ©2004 by Bob Michel       Out Beyond Good-Bye     The key still fits the lock when she goes off to work this morning The engine still turns over when she goes to start the car That could be her own old house there in the rearview as she's turning And toys just like her own kids' toys are strewn around the yard   Pear trees like the ones she saw last week are in full flower So there's such a thing as spring out here although she can't think why And the radio gives local news at fifteen past the hour From this undiscovered territory out beyond good-bye   A schoolbus drops the kids off at the house around four-thirty They run in full of mischief like a thousand times before Her voice says to go play awhile but not to get too dirty And she hears herself reminding them to close the kitchen door   She looks around the room and sees that dinner's almost ready Things take care of themselves here you don't even have to try If you saw the way she moved through her routine so sure and steady You'd almost think she knew this country out beyond good-bye   The candlelight is dancing on the wine that she is drinking As the clock up on the mantel ticks the strange new hours away It's midnight and the kids have gone to bed and she sits thinking So it's true that you can live out here she's made it through a day   The landscape's looking clearer now it's like a fog is lifting And the old familiar objects bring the first tear to her eye For the center that once held her isn't there and she's just drifting Where all that's changed is everything out beyond good-bye Where all that's changed is everything out beyond good-bye   ©2004 by Bob Michel      Relics of The Harbor   Look at all these wrecks he told her As they crossed the bay Half-submerged like you and I are I can't live this way Rusty hulks and oily waters Seaweed clogs the lanes Every sight's a weight to carry Every day's the same   Built this boat myself he told her Named her after you Got to find a new horizon Something else to do Give me this one chance he said to Take us far from here From these relics of the harbor Give me just one year   Took the boat he'd christened for her Steered her out to sea Left her by the dockside smiling Brokenheartedly Though ambition drove him on and Kept them far apart Every time he saw that name sweet Pride would fill his heart   How he dreamed of one good season How he hoped and yearned Couldn't bear to turn her homeward Till his luck had turned Sold her for a few odd dollars Too worn-down to cry Left her in some far-off harbor Wishing he could die   She grew stout around the middle Sad around the eyes Cursed the breaks that never happened Cursed his stubborn pride Swore she wasn't waiting for him Laughed with other men Stayed beside that rusting harbor Never loved again   Now he does odd jobs at dockside Years and miles from home Spends his days inside a bottle Used-up and alone She stares out toward the sea-lanes Breathes an angry prayer One more relic of the harbor Wishing he was there   ©2004 by Bob Michel      Your Sunday Squeeze Charlie played in a blues band Played the bass with a slow hand He liked to lay that rhythm down just so Every Sunday for a whole spring Had a date with a sweet thing Took her out to lunch and to a show   Every Sunday right around one Picked her up for a little fun Just a quick bite and a movie nothing big Brought her back around four or five or so She gave a big sigh and said Don't go He still made it home in time to play his gig   He didn't bring her no flowers didn't give her no ring Every Sunday was the same thing Old Charlie couldn't ask for one thing more For just a cheap movie and a quick meal He got a sweet girl and a sweet deal Till one day he found a note taped to her door   It said don't call and don't come I need a full-time honey and you're not the one Six days a week I just cry and walk the floor So don't come and don't call If you lost my lovin' it's your own fault I won't be your Sunday squeeze anymore   She said all week long I walk the floor You don't ring my phone you don't knock at my door I believe you've got just two things on your mind One day a week you come round my place The other six you're just playing that bass But either way you're only marking time   Then she said every Sunday afternoon Every time we play the same tune And a girl gets tired of waiting all week long Oh Charlie you don't ever change You need to mix it up get a little range Honey you just need to learn another song   Charlie's girl got a brand new squeeze And he plays piano using all the keys She says she never ever had more fun Poor Charlie's got no place to go So he stays at home and plays solo He plays one to four one to five to one   She said don't call and don't come I need a full-time honey and you're not the one Six days a week I just cry and walk the floor So don't come and don't call If you lost my lovin' it's your own fault I won't be your Sunday squeeze anymore   ©2004 by Bob Michel      Let It Go   You've been out across a desert plain where no shower ever fell Hunting for the one bare rock that hides a living spring You've been staring countless hours down a dried-up wishing well Hoping there's a spirit down below and that she'll sing   Let it go then turn away It's come to endings now You have nothing more to say Not that matters anyhow It's a clumsy sad misshapen thing you've managed in the end But the paper goes to press now let it go and start again   Have you ever nursed a single thought or hummed a single bar You thought within your heart of hearts was absolutely new What profit could you ever draw announcing all you are Why must you say I'm sorry it's the best that I could do   But let it go you've done your best Good or bad you gave your all Nudge it gently from the nest Will it fly or will it fall Have you found a grain of truth this time or at least a decent lie Or will you feel again tomorrow you were mad to even try   Did you know what you were seeking from the moment you began The thing that wasn't there before the hidden form you've found Or is was it only when it showed itself and told you Here I am That the aimless line rejoined itself and brought the circle round   Let it go then one more time And say the same old prayer That there's ore left in the mine That the tank's not drained of air There's a heartbeat's worth of wonder at this strange new thing you've done And then the hollow terror will there be another one   ©2004 by Bob Michel     The Oystermen's Ball   Out at the beds the day's nearly over The men are all tired their work's nearly done The schooners ride low on the face of the water And the big sails creak upward in the low autumn sun It's half a league back to the mouth of the Maurice And from there to Port Norris makes an hour in all And tonight Captain Bill has to be home by seven He's taking his daughter to the Oystermen's Ball   There's sixty tall ships all turning upriver Their decks piled high with the take of the day Captain Bill smells the brine that clings to the oysters He's torn from their beds far out in the bay His men smoke their pipes as they lean on the gunwale Twelve hours of hard work but they've made a great haul He can pay for the dress he bought up in Bridgeton For his daughter to wear at the Oystermen's Ball   The boxcars stand open on the siding at Bivalve Beside the long shed where the schooners are tied They'll speed through the night to New York and Chicago With South Jersey's bounty her wealth and her pride But Captain Bill's lost in a memory of courtship Of waltzing with Rosa at the K. of P. Hall She was the fairest young flower of Cumberland County And the prettiest girl at the Oystermen's Ball   Well he built her a fine house with gingerbread on it And she gave him a child the joy of his life And he rose before dawn every day of the season To earn a good living for his daughter and wife But when just last Christmas his Rosa lay dying He swore to himself he was through with it all But now it's October and he's hurrying homeward To escort a young girl to her very first ball   Now the oysters are gone and the old shed stands empty The riverside pilings are rotting away The great herons glide over bare windy marshes And the sun sets in silence on the Delaware Bay But sometimes in the twilight you can almost hear music From the days that are gone when the schooners stood tall From the days of the boxcars and the gingerbread houses When Bill waltzed with Rosa at the Oystermen's Ball     ©2004 by Bob Michel Bob Michel, "The Farther Shore": Complete Lyrics Back Where You Belong     Well my oh my What a sight for sore eyes Thought I'd never see the day   Throw your bags in the back And hand me that pack Looks like you're plannin on a nice long stay   Seems it's been years Since you've been here Never thought you'd last so long   Hope you'll bide a while Sweet child Back where you belong   Mama's at the sink Just where you'd think She's been cookin for three straight days   Now that you're home She'll put some meat on your bones She's gonna cure you of those city ways   All your friends and your kin We're having them in There's a tent up on the lawn   Can't you see all the smiles Sweet child Now you're back where you belong   Guess a girl from the country needs a double dose of luck If she's gonna try and monkey with them city ducks Guess a hardheaded girl got to see for herself When she won't stop and listen to no one else   But that's how it goes And everyone knows All that you been through   And no one's ashamed It's just the breaks of the game And you done the best that you could do   And though we all know We reap what we sow No one's talkin bout right and wrong   You were young and wild Sweet child But you're back where you belong     ©2006 by Bob Michel         Far Clare Mountains   Michael's ship is anchored in the Shannon Michael's hands are wrapped around the rail Far below he feels the engine shudder Telling him he'll soon be setting sail Deep within he feels his spirit answer Feels his eyes begin to smart and burn Sets his jaw to keep the tears from flowing Swears a silent vow that he'll return Hope and need combine to drive him onward Already turning homeward in his mind His eyes stare out across the endless ocean But they see the far Clare mountains left behind   Anna smiles and stares into the camera Michael's hands are resting on her own He's found his countrywoman in this new land He's looked into her eyes and called it home Anna's eyes are fixed upon the future Michael's eyes are fixed upon his bride His last five dollars bought this wedding picture He prays the Lord will help him to provide Anna looks ahead and dreams of children She's turned her back on all she's left behind Michael dreams he'll earn their passage homeward To see the far Clare mountains one more time   Michael throws a new pot on the wheel Michael's hands are centering the clay He plies his trade to feed his seven children And now they have another on the way He'll work to fix the sorry house he's rented Day and night till all his strength is gone Though every time he makes a home to live in The landlord ups the rent and they move on Anna's strong she holds them all together Makes her plans and never looks behind Michael shapes the new earth with his fingers But he roams the far Clare Mountains in his mind   Anna's sons and daughters ring the casket Michael's hands are stretched out by his sides They've come to bury father in his new home The far-off country where he worked and died A year from now they'll send her back to Ireland She'll send them each a card with country scenes She'll send them each a trinket from a gift shop A china plate with shamrocks etched in green She'll write and say be glad of indoor plumbing Be glad of sunny skies and modern times Be glad your father raised himself from nothing And left these far Clare mountains far behind     ©2006 by Bob Michel           To The Glasshouse I'll Go No More   This morning the frost was thick on the glass It was too cold and icy to go out to Mass So I sat at the table and thought of the past And the fruits of a lifetime of labor   I love this old town and I've always lived here And I worked in the glasshouse for forty-three years As a master glassblower I hadn't a peer And I worked with my friends and my neighbors   But my wife died last year and my friends are all gone And my kids and grandkids have long since moved on So I live in this two room apartment alone To the glasshouse I'll go no more   When I was a young man how I used to frown At the old agitators when they came around If they stood up to speak I shouted them down And if they brought papers I didn't read them   For I was a craftsman and they treated me square I was proud of my town and I earned my fair share And now as I look back I'm wondering where All those firebrands have gone now we need them   For the owners pulled out and they let us all go And for forty-three years there's damn little to show But the shell of the dear town that I used to know To the glasshouse I'll go no more   Your roots grow so deep for as long as they may Till a stroke of the pen takes your living away To anyplace they can pay pennies a day Where they say folks are happy to get them   And they tell you that's just in the nature of things They've a right to whatever the market will bring So trust in the market and let freedom ring Yes they go on like that and we let them   And they say to relocate and go with the flow They wish you good luck and then off they go Wherever the fair winds of profit may blow To the glasshouse I'll go no more All over this country in the rusted-out towns The brownfields and derelict factories abound And it's not worth the trouble to tear them all down So you stare straight ahead and drive by them   But if once in a while you'd just stop and look You'd see all the costs that aren't on the books All the terrible waste and the toll that it took On trusting old fools such as I am   For if you'll think it over you'll find it's quite clear That what they took with them when they left us here Had something to do with my forty-three years