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Selected Lyrics |
There is a place on this Earth unlike any other. We call it "grand", yet words tend to ring empty and fall short when tagged on the vast grandeur, the incredible spaciousness, we call the Grand Canyon. When I first wandered through The Canyon for a few weeks in 1981, I was walking the length of Arizona. I fell in love with the place. In falling, the music stirred one more time.
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It's there if you listen racin' down 'cross the buttes,
It sings o'er the mesas and down through the shutes, It's in the scratch of a lizard on dry desert sand, It's the spirit of magic that flows through this land.
It's the Grand Canyon Suite,
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In the Fall of 1985 my brother, Mark, and I paddled down the Betsie River in Michigan. It was a special time to get to know each other again, and a time to soak up the beauty of the midwest autumn.
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There's a great blue heron looking down his nose,
As he checks us over in the morning sun, Paddles flashin' and the muskrat splashin' The kingfish screams as the salmon run.
Sailin' down a silver ribbon,
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Written in 1982 while walking the length of Utah, this song is an attempt to explain what draws me to the backcountry; a song of perspective, change, and wonder.
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Some folks they ask me, "Why do you go,
There ain't much goin' on up in them hills." But I tell them I've been there a time or two, And I can see it all still.
I see the sun comin' up over the mesa at morning,
I see eagles a-soarin' free as the wind,
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I've always been fascinated by the freedom and the spirit of the early mountainmen. Jim Bridger came west in the 1820's when he was 17 years old. He roamed the Rocky Mountains for almost 40 years, until his eyesight and health began to fail in the 1860's. His return to Missouri to die, far from his beloved mountains, set me to wonderin' how he must have felt during his last years.
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Old man Bridger is like a bird in a cage,
And they say that he's goin' blind. From the whisky that they sold him in his younger days Took his sight before its time. But now he's living out his later days in a land that's far away From the mountains that lured him to his fame and fortune where he thought he'd always stay. But sometimes at night when the west wind blows and he thinks that no one hears, You'll hear him singin' to himself, in his voice is a thousand tears.
Let me listen to the wind my friend,
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This song, along with the poem by Fred Donaldson, says it all. It's a lament, a plea, and a question. Have humans as a whole advanced far enough to accept the right of other creatures to exist? Will the big wolf's track pass this way again?
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There was a time, so the legend goes, Then the wolf ran free, went where he chose, Game was plenty on the hunting ground, And he fit right in, Life's circle went around.
There was a song, where it's silent now,
There's a lone wolf howlin' on the ridgeline tonight,
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Written back in '77, this ballad tells the story of a mountain man who lives to see the end of an era; the end of the wild west. Though not a historical tale, I can't help but think it might be "true". There's a lot of Cisco in me.
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Because he'd heard all the tales of wild spaces to the west,
Snow-capped mountains shining far and wide, And he knew he had to go, 'cause he could never rest, Until he caught the taste of freedom in that blue Montana sky. |
In the Fall of '85 my sister, Susan, was going through a time of changes, new directions, and tough decisions. I wrote this one for her, but have found that it's good advice for everyone.
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.....seek out the power in your own mind's eye,
listen to your heart, it'll teach you by and by.
Follow your heart, that's where to begin,
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In 1986 I walked from the Grand Canyon back to my home in Montana. I began the trip by walking the western quarter of The Canyon. I went many days without seeing anyone, but had a very strong sense of those who once roamed there. I slept under ledges of rock covered with ancient petroglyphs. I found arrowheads, bits of pottery, and this song. The Old Ones are gone, but their spirit is alive and well.
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Come walk the open mesa,
come taste of the desert sand, Come roam the canyon narrows, and feel for the age of this land.
I walk with the Old Ones,
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There is a kingdom of living things we share this Earth with who are often overlooked, abused, and in many instances destroyed. I speak of the Green Kingdom, the plants, trees, and flowers which give us Life. Slow down and take a closer look. Wrap your arms around a tree. Feel it green and growing!
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Green and growing, green and growing,
Everything is green and growing, There's a wisdom there worth knowing, When that stream of life's a-flowing, And everything is green, green and growing. |
I've sung this song in concert halls, schools, churches, and even a courtroom, but my favorite place to sing it is where it was written: sitting on a mountain peak with my heart humming to the wind, and my soul bursting with power and hope.
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Now the Earth it holds the key to all that shall be free,
It's in the peace of the desert and the wisdom of the trees, It's in the grace of a swans wing and the grizzly when she's riled It's in all the love I bear it, let it stay forever wild. Forever wild, Forever wild, Let it stay, forever wild. |
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