lyrics and Credits

mountain morning Song

Time to rise, mountain lover. Rub your eyes, throw off the covers. No more dreams, the night is over. Dawn breaks the sky and it’s a golden day, a green day, a bluebird day. The mountains call for us to play. You haul wood I’ll heat some water. Warm bed feels good but the aspens are waiting; the spruce the pines they’re waiting; the mountains call for us to climb. Oh, it’s golden day, a green day, a bluebird day. The mountains call for us to play. Bank the fire we’ll step outside the old wooden door. Oh, can you smell the butterscotch in the trees? Can you taste the tang of snow that sharpens the fall mountain breeze? We can follow where the stream flows under last night’s freeze, and on we’ll roam ‘cause we’ve found home. When we’re done with day’s exploring, at night we’ll get those flames roaring. Stretch out warm beside the fire and burn that spark down to a smolder, my mountain lover. The stars will shine for our love. But first let’s smell that butterscotch in the trees. Let’s go taste the tang of snow that sharpens the fall mountain breeze. We can follow where the stream flows under last night’s freeze and on we’ll roam, ‘cause we’ve found home. My mountain lover, we’ve found our home. Mountains, our home.

nobody’s foolin’ Nobody

You reach your hands out to the golden fruit hangs heavy from the branch. But it’s just a shriveled packet of bitterness, guarded by the Monster curled around this thirsty land. Where once was gold, now just a cunning hole to guzzle what the Monster owns. There’s only one year left of water, sinking ground, and empty lakes and the angry eyes inside those walls don’t care about your fate, ‘cause your California Dreamin’ is locked up behind greedy, fearful gates. Soft golden hills once rolled to the sea. Small white houses gleamed among the orange trees. But those houses they grew so big, there’s no more room for blossoms and leaves, or you and me. So now you go in search of new land but the Monster wants more gold from gold. You find lot-line houses, flaming towers, and barbed wire ‘cause the playground’s just for them and their money fuels the fires. And your Rocky Mountain High has up and gone the California way. You gonna turn your cars around a hundred years too late? But will they take you back or greet you with your own sly hate? Who was it got here first? Who was it got here last? Oh it don’t matter now; we’re hell-bent to repeat the past. When there’s no more water ‘cause there’s no more rain, no prayers or no curses’ll save us all from coming flames. And still the ghosts of Tom and Jim and Rosasharn how they moan and cry to see the milk of tender human mercy spill past the starving mouths to fatten up the satisfied. Yeah your California Dreamin’ is nothing now but tears in their dusty eyes, and the Truth Keeps Marching On though it turned out to be lies.

specific Gravity

Sun burns low above the Western Range. throwing long shadows to the eastern plains. Oast house warm while the Chinook’s drying. My heart soars as the light is dying, ‘cause when the wind whispers through the evening garden, that’s a call that I can’t ignore. The bitter gold of the setting sun’s rays lifts me up to your specific gravity. [Moon rise heavy in the harvest sky, white mantle catching up the sparks from the moonlight. Silver-tailed comet like an arrow as to say, “When you need me let the stars point the way.” And when the Heavens croon to the midnight snow, that’s a call that I can’t ignore. Polaris shows me my true North and lifts me up to your specific gravity]. Dawn breaks gold on the Great Divide, snow’s surrender running in a cold clear tide. I reach the summit and divine life’s mysteries; fourteen high and I’m falling for you, baby, ‘cause when that water roars down the canyon falls, that’s a call that I can’t ignore. The cascade washes my sins away and lifts me up to your specific gravity. Specific Gravity Kinda feels like alchemy. Whatever lifted you upta me had to be the ratio of mass over the ratio of density, divided by something not done sensibly, something that burned with so much intensity like a supernova shock breakout created a cavity in space, in my heart, in my soul. What's the concentration of this solution? The solution is concentration on what was bilaterally, organically grown from a known entity. The entity known as L-O-V-E. Basswood .32, .42, doesn't really matter. I was rescued from a languid malady, attracted by the pull of your gravity. When it's all said & done in all its totality will there be natural tonality? Will you look back nostalgically? Will it continue to flower like Malvaceae? Ask Hildegard of Bingen what she'd been thinkin’ & she may tell you the virtues of those green flowers that were stinkin’.

you always, you Never

You always, you never listen close when I have something to say. You always, you never have to win when we each want our own way. You always, you never make me guess if you’ll go or if you’ll stay. You always, you never get upset when I ask if we’re OK. You always, you never play along when I need to sing the blues. You always, you never tell me lies when I need to hear the truth. You always, you never give and give when I beg for more and more. You always, you never rescue me when I’m drowning off your shores. Here we go again. Same old thing. All or nothing. It never ends. Here we go again. You always, you never pull away when I’ve pushed your heart too far. You always, you never hold my hand when I’m frightened of your dark. You always, you never punish me with your silence or your jokes . You always, you never prove your love when I need to believe it most. You always, you never. You always, you never. You always, you never. You always, you never. You always, you never. You always, you never. You always, you never. You always…. You Never. You Always. You Never. You Always. You sometimes. You sometimes. You sometimes.

there is no Why

We all know the real truth is that nothing ever happens for a reason. The world turns, turns, turns but to no purpose is there time or season. No big Somebody’s got a plan for you. Life’s up to dumb luck and the choices you choose. There’s no guarantee that what happens in your life is for the best. How it all turns out in the end? Well, that’s anybody’s guess. You’re dealt your starting hand and from there you play. You win you lose maybe learn on the way. But no teacher’s there at the end with a grade for you. Hey…. hey it’s OK you're afraid. How can there be no why? No one to listen to you or to answer when you pray? No ever after when you die? If nothing was meant to be, and we’re truly free, what a heavy burden at our feet. We are all of us alone. Frightened children left on our own. Growing old when we don’t even know what it means. We are all of us searching, hoping, aching for someone to save us. They promised someone would save you. But you know no one’s coming. No one’s coming to save you but you. So how does it feel to know that nothing ever happens for a reason? No signs, no rewards, no punishments, just you and your freedom? No higher meaning in this day to day? Why not be kind and learn to live for today? And if it all goes wrong in the end, Well, it didn’t matter anyway. Hey…. hey it’s OK you're afraid. How can there be no why? There is no why. There only is.

There is no why.

lost

I walked this trail. covered my tracks. I never wanted to go back. I switched the signs. I broke the cairns. I left no stones. I dropped no crumbs. I had a map clutched in my hands. I tore it up. I tore it up. And now I’m lost. And now I’m lost. And now I’m lost. And oh, stars are coming out tonight, forever constant in the sky. Can their patterns be my guide? Can I find a way home in their light? I found my town. Went to my home. The door was locked. The key I’d dropped. I tore it down. I tore it down. With my own hands I tore it all down. Nail by nail, and board by board, I tore it down. I never fit into that box. And now I’m lost. And now I’m lost. And oh, stars are coming out tonight, forever constant in the sky. But their patterns hold no guide. I’ll never find my way home in their light. Familiar face; don’t recognize. But I can’t ask. Who can I trust? I see my face. I know its shape. And yet the eyes are wrong are wrong oh no those eyes are wrong. They are not wise. No, they are—they’re terrified. And I am lost. And I am lost. And I am lost. I’m lost.

Credits

Vocals Jeanne McAdara with Nick Bliss, Jessica Carson, Allie Chipkin, Giselle Collazo, Jessica and Laurie Cruciger, Kate Farmer, Sean Flynn, Bonnie Elizabeth Sims, Taylor Sims, and Mark Venezia.

Piano Jeanne McAdara. Bass Kalin Capra. Drums Luke Dapruzzo, with Tony Saccomanno on Specific Gravity.

Violin and Cello on Specific gravity, You Always, You Never, Lost, Michelle Huster. Cello and Viola on There is no Why, Enion Pelta-Tiller.

Air organ Jessica Carson. Beats on Specific Gravity, Bret Batterman. Pensive rambling Meghan Russell. Whiskey-glass flutes Jessica Carson and Mark Venezia.

Guitar credits anonymous by express request of the artist.

All songs written and arranged by Jeanne McAdara (ASCAP).

Produced, recorded, engineered, and mixed by Mark Venezia at Wind Over the Earth Studios, Longmont, Colorado. Mastered by Jim Wilson Mastering. Assistant engineer Cayman Tomsic.

Published by Bad But Pretty Music (ASCAP). Album design Jeanne McAdara.
Original art Bunk Hess. Photography Nikki Rae, Steef Sealy, and Jeanne McAdara.

This was not an easy project to bring to completion and I am forever indebted to the countless friends, family, and members of the Longmont music community who were there for me to lean on while I saw it through. Special thanks to Tilia Americana’s GoFundMe donors and to Chad Dubé for musical inspiration on nobody’s foolin’ nobody.

previous Releases…