by Steve Wynn
It's so peaceful here
In the Riverview graveyard
And sometimes it felt that way
Out in the green ballfield
But life can take a turn
Right before your eyes
And you know
You'll never be the same again
Chappie was a favorite son
Called a prince by everyone
But he couldn't hit me a lick
And he'd tell you so
When he squared to bunt again
I submarined it up and in
He was leaning out over the plate
And he just froze
I wasn't trying to hurt anyone
But now it's all so said and done
And I wish that killer pitch never left my hand
It was never far from my mind
But the next year I went 27-9
Hit .343
And we won the Yanks' first flag
Still people didn't like me
Accused me of being on the take in the Series
I pitched three complete games
With an ERA of 1.73
In '28 Ray's wife died
Suspected it was suicide
And the daughter he never saw
Passed in '29
And the very ball I threw that day
Thirty years later it was put into play
Took a bad hop
And smashed some kid in the eye
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Here Lies Carl Mays
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: baseball, disharmony, historical, history, loss
Friday, August 5, 2016
I Want to Tell You
by George Harrison
I want to tell you
My head is filled with things to say
When you're here
All those words, they seem to slip away
When I get near you
The games begin to drag me down
It's alright
I'll make you maybe next time around
But if I seem to act unkind
It's only me, it's not my mind
That is confusing things
I want to tell you
I feel hung up but I don't know why
I don't mind
I could wait forever, I've got time
Sometimes I wish I knew you well,
Then I could speak my mind and tell you
Maybe you'd understand
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Monday, August 1, 2016
Some Enchanted Evening
by Oscar Hammerstein II
Some enchanted evening you may see a stranger
You may see a stranger across a crowded room
And somehow you know, you'll know even then
That somewhere you'll see her, again and again
Some enchanted evening someone may be laughing
You may hear her laughing across a crowded room
And night after night, as strange as it seems
The sound of her laughter will sing in your dreams
Who can explain it?
Who can tell you why?
Fools give you reasons
Wise me never try
Some enchanted evening when you find your true love
When you feel her call you across a crowded room
Then fly to her side and make her your own
Or all through your life you may dream all alone
Once you have found her never let her go
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Speed Trap Town
by Jason Isbell
She said, 'It's none of my business, but it breaks my heart'
Dropped a dozen cheap roses in my shopping cart
Made it out to the truck without breaking down
Everybody knows you in a speed trap town
It's a Thursday night, but there's a high school game
Sneak a bottle up the bleachers and forget my name
These 5A bastards run a shallow cross
It's a boy's last dream and a man's first loss
And it never did occur to me to leave 'til tonight
And there's no one left to ask if I'm alright
I'll sleep until I'm straight enough to drive, then decide
If there's anything that can't be left behind
The doctor said Daddy wouldn't make it a year
But the holidays are over, and he's still here
How long can they keep you in the ICU?
Veins through the skin like a faded tattoo
Was a tough state trooper 'til a decade back
When that girl who wasn't Mama caused his heart attack
He didn't care about us when he was walking around
Just pulling women over in a speed trap town
But it never did occur to me to leave 'til tonight
When I realized he'll never be alright
Sign my name and say my last goodbye, then decide
That there's nothing here that can't be left behind
The road got blurry when the sun came up
So I slept a couple hours in the pickup truck
Drank a cup of coffee by an Indian mound
A thousand miles away from that speed trap town
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: anxiety, change, choice, death, disharmony, loss, melancholia
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Cuyahoga
by Michael Stipe
Let's put our heads together
And start a new country up
Our father's father's father tried
Erased the parts he didn't like
Let's try to fill it in
Bank the quarry river, swim
We knee-skinned it, you and me
We knee-skinned that river red
This is where we walked
This is where we swam
Take a picture here
Take a souvenir
This land is the land of ours
This river runs red over it
We knee-skinned it, you and me
We knee-skinned that river red
And we gathered up our friends
Bank the quarry river, swim
We knee-skinned it you and me
Underneath the river bed
This is where we walked
This is where we swam
Take a picture here
Take a souvenir
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
Let's put our heads together
And start a new country up
Up underneath the river bed
We'll burn the river down
This is where they walked, swam
Hunted, danced, and sang
Take a picture here
Take a souvenir
Cuyahoga
Cuyahoga, gone
Rewrite the book and rule the pages
Saving face, secured in faith
Bury, burn the waste behind you
This land is the land of ours
This river runs red over it
We are not your allies
We cannot defend
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: Cleveland, disharmony, history
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?
by Cole Porter
Who wants to be a millionaire? I don't
Have flashy flunkies everywhere? I don't
Who wants the bother of a country estate?
A country estate is something I'd hate
Who wants to wallow in champagne? I don't
Who wants a supersonic plane? I don't
Who wants a private landing field too? I don't
And I don't, 'cause all I want is you
Who wants to be a millionaire? I don't
Who wants uranium to spare? I don't
Who wants to journey on a gigantic yacht?
Do I want a yacht? Oh, how I do not
Who wants a fancy foreign car? I don't
Who wants to tire of caviar? I don't
Who wants a marble swimming pool too? I don't
And I don't, 'cause all I want is you
Who wants to be a millionaire? I don't
And go to every swell affair? I don't
Who wants to ride behind a liveried chauffeur?
A liveried chauffeur, do I want? No sir
Who wants an opera box I'll bet? I don't
And sleep through Wagner at the Met? I don't
Who wants to corner Cartiers, too? I don't
And I don't, 'cause all I want is you
Posted by Steven A Mitchell 0 comments
Labels: historical, longing, Porter, romance, Standard
Friday, July 8, 2016
You Did That for Me
by Sara Groves
I don't have to cry anymore
I don't have to worry about what's in store
I've walked that road exhausted and poor
I don't have to cry anymore
I don't have to know it all
I don't have to be so proud and stand so tall
I climbed that mountain only to fall
I don't have to know it all
You did that for me
You wore the chains so I could be free
You did that for me
And I don't have to be ashamed
Hang my head or shoulder the blame
Wondering if my life's been in vain
I don't have to be ashamed
Man of sorrows
Well acquainted with grief
Drug down to the city dump
Spread eagle on a cross beam
Propped up like a scarecrow
Nailed like a thief
There for all the world to see