Here is a selection of songs that you can sample and even purchase. This list will grow and evolve over time. The first selections are from our most recent recording sessions. There will be some archived material as well. It is our intention that 50% of the sales of these songs go directly to charity. So you can feel good about frittering away your hard earned cash on new music like you did when you were a teenager. Think how proud Mom and Pop would be!
To purchase any or all of the songs you see listed below, search us in Spotify, iTunes, Amazon, CDBaby, or ReverbNation. Thank you for your support.
My Murder of Crows
“So we comb these skies for our murder of crows
We constantly leave but we never ever really go
Seeds on the sill, always room for more”
We are all searching for our community. It can be found in the strangest places. A song about that search.
“Home again, home again, jiggety john.
Memories spill ‘cross the ribbon we’re on”
A song about going home for the Holidays. Making that long ride and thinking about the mixed bag of emotions that will greet you.
“When passion really matters, I am silent. I’m barely making a sound.”
A tongue-in-cheek song about taking a stand, choosing a side. Something we all feel pressure to do these days.
(We Are) Vagabonds
“May this wanderlust between us, may it never, ever end”
Partners in crime, picking up and moving again and again and again. We make our choices, we create our own definitions of what we call ‘home’.
“I’m tired of the tears, the leather couch crowd.”
A long ago foray into the world of wealth. Money, art, possessions, therapy sessions. A strange world, a word undone.
Chasing The Half Moon
“Looking for some miracle come and carry us away. From the emptiness of the everyday. Chasing the half moon…”
Written in south London in 1991 at a bar called The Half Moon Putney. Finally recorded 25 years later! Good things come to those who wait? Patience is a virtue? Flat out procrastination? Choose your poison.
The Little White Lies of Theresa Marie
“I’m as lucky, I’m as lucky as a boy can be. I’ve got the little white lies of Theresa Marie.”
We get older and we don’t love what we see in the mirror. If we are lucky, during those moments, we get the gentle response of a true partner.
On A Good, Good Day
“When the busker’s cup ain’t empty, when the news is truly slow. When the rain falls cool and steady; then I know. I truly know.”
This world is filled with things to legitimately be worried about. It can be overwhelming to the very best of us. Once in a while, hopefully when we need it most, the stars align for a brief moment.
My Single Resolution
“My Single Resolution is never judging a thing. It’s shattered by morning, but what a sweet, sweet dream”
Do we all judge? We do, we do….
“Got my atlas in hand. It’s tattered and thin. The hazards are hidden, like the deepest of sin.”
A song about protecting ourselves emotionally. Maybe about expectation as well. We are basically challenging the concept of predestination here. There is no pre-written script for our individual journeys. Each of us stumbles through this life the best we can; dodging what gets tossed or blown in our direction. I will likely take some flack for this one from time to time.
A Better Place
“Tried flat-out believing. Got no faith, but a little hope. Millions along the margin, but we don’t judge, we don’t judge by the literal”
Written as a challenge to the deity of your choosing. This life is tough on our best days, this world can take it out of any of us, regardless of circumstance. Walk down a busy street in any city, watch the news, read the paper. This ain’t rocket science. We need to hold onto every shred of wonderful every chance we get. Many of us on this planet may rarely if ever experience those feelings. A better place? There’d better be.
“You’re the calm against my bluster. That stubborn string of hope. You’re the ever-present ladder, the only one who really knows.”
I am often (rightly) accused of rarely writing a full on happy or positive lyric. This one may be as close as I will ever come. An unabashed tribute to my significant other; the one who regularly pulls me back from the darker spaces. Since I can’t grant her sainthood for putting up with this huge pain in the butt, this is the next best thing.
“He hangs on the rail, cold water below. He greets each passer with his steady chatter.”
Five days a week, all year long I walk along a two mile stretch of downtown Chicago; from Union Station to my job. This lyric is based on three of the many homeless gentlemen I would pass pretty much every day on my route. There were countless more that came and went, but these guys each had a very specific corner, bench, or spot on a bridge over the river. I would hand out a buck or some change whenever I had it on me, but I never have the courage to stop and try to have a real conversation. Shame on me.
(Forever in a) State of Leaving
“Give me all your lonely places. Crumbling columns and solemn facades.”
i have been fortunate enough to have traveled to many corners of this planet over the years. We traveled on a shoestring to try to make it more real, more genuine. We were always on a trip or dreaming up the next one. I always wanted or maybe even expected these life altering cultural exchanges. Maybe instead of rushing towards something I was running from something else. There is an unmistakable sense of distance that comes with that kind of journey. There is a sometimes a strange sense of security in that kind of distance.
Trouble The Water
“Sometimes I feel so playful. Sometimes I’m so naïve. It’s like playing freeze tag in the middle of a busy street. Go on, trouble the water…”
Written in the early nineties. The title of this song is taken from an old story I read around that time. It has since been used as the title of a recent novel and a documentary film. I am fairly positive these works of art were inspired by our little tune. OK, probably not. To me the term compels us to go out and stir things up, to toss the occasional stone into the pool. This is one of the most recurring themes in my lyrics over the years.