22 Blackbirds

Nathan McDonald. © 2008 Littlebeck Records.

22 blackbirds singing over you
Singing of a world to come
You’re sleeping by the window
They can’t help but let you know

22 blackbirds pleading over you
Pleading for a world to come
You’ve never moved outside these walls
You never thought this day would come so soon

Spread wide the avenue
Make way for something new
It is going to break you where you stand
Lie down and let it roll
Near-sighted eyes and weary soul
Meet the shifting shadows with a kiss

22 blackbirds crying over you
Crying for a world to come
Pitch black against a white sky
A contrast for aging eyes to see

Spread wide the avenue…

22 blackbirds taking flight over you
Taking flight with your heart

Annie's Trouble

Nathan McDonald. © 2008 Littlebeck Records.

Jack’s outside the window
Throwing pennies at the glass
Trying to break the silence in your room
He wanted to protect you
But his fists weren’t made to swing
Now he feels a wound deeper than your bruise

Jimmy’s at the front door
Nailing daisies to the frame
Trying to bring back color to your home
He wanted to believe you
But he sneaks around at night
Now he’s looking and there’s no one to be found

There is trouble at your window
There is trouble at your front door
Annie, you’ve been drawing trouble
But it’s not your trouble anymore

John’s up on the rooftop
Dropping toothpicks down the chute
Hoping one will strike a flame for you
He wanted to elect you
But he votes the other side
Now his victory is losing what he had

Joe’s under your floorboards
Singing echoes through the rug
Trying to shake a crack inside your walls
He wanted to convince you
But his tongue could only lie
Now he’s thirsty and he goes unsatisfied

There is trouble on your rooftop
There is trouble in your floorboards
Annie, you’ve been drawing trouble
But it’s not your trouble anymore

Saturday at midnight
Six whole days ago from now
You bought a ticket for an eastern shore
Unannounced you left your trouble
But you left your home as well
Now you’re sleeping where the pennies hit the ground
Waking under daisies on the door
Breathing in clouds of smoke and chill
Hearing echoes tearing down your walls

Baby, Don't Say

Nathan McDonald. © 2008 Littlebeck Records.

Baby don’t say you’ll sleep another hour 
Your dreams aren’t as sweet as drinking in the day
Follow me out to the street around the corner
You’ve been a fool to let your love delay

Come on, I won’t let you go
Even when trouble is pulling you under
Walk on, let out your song
The melody will lead you along

Baby your eyes carry weight like a barrow
Empty the load before the day is through
Swallow me in, soak your bones to the marrow
You will begin as I begin in you

Come on, I won’t let you go…

We’ll flower up from the seed
Starving our wants, feeding our needs
Our stories won’t ever end
Laughing through trouble like elderly friends
Baby, I’m under your skin

Beards

Nathan P. McDonald. © 2012 Littlebeck Records.

PART 1

Beards are for rock stars who are losing their hair…

Mrs. Savage gave birth to a son
On the eve of Independence Day
’Said “he’s the one who will turn
All the eyes of the girls in the hood”
It never really happened, she never understood

On his birthday, age of ten
He unwrapped a shiny Squire from his uncle Lenn
He could play every chord by the age of thirteen
‘Found himself friends in Zimmy and Springsteen

If I play everyday, and let my curls grow
‘Won’t need the stars to align
Just need to book a show... book a show!

Rock is for youngsters who have nowhere to go
Nowhere to go, nowhere to go

By the time he was drinking age
There’d been five or more bands
But none had seen the stage
‘Cept Johnny and the Savages, a black jean cast
During try-outs for the State Fair they never made past

New inventions carried him on
Down a road to viral stardom when he posted a song
There were 15-hundred views in a single day
The kindest of the comments said, “learn how to play”

When I leave this town, I won’t be coming back
I’m still stitching together the perfect plan of attack… of attack!

Bands are for loners who think nobody cares
Nobody cares, nobody cares

On the morn of Thanksgiving day
Mrs. Savage stuffed her turkey in a curious way
With a baseball bat and a stick of cinnamon
Distracted by the hope that she might see her son

That boy had a new family
They were waiting in a bar room off of one-seven-three
Ev’ry Thursday was his night on the open stage
Making sparse tips on a bus boy’s wage

When it’s my time to leave, no need to say good-bye
My fellowship of loners has no time to cry… time to cry!

Tears are for mothers who are losing their sons
Losing their sons, losing their sons

PART 2

Popular bands have such crowns to behold
Mine’s wearing thin, now that I’m growing old

But some gifts hide right under your nose
Encamp your mouth, cradle your lobes
Clothe your face, when others are bare
Accent your smile, draw young girl’s stares

This is the treasure I’ve found
This is the treasure I’ve found
This is the treasure I’ve found

Beards are for rock stars who are losing their hair
Losing their hair, losing their hair

I’m losing my hair...

Bone to Skin

Nathan P. McDonald. © 2016 Littlebeck Records.

How long will you run?
How long till this is done?
How long?

Will we ever speak again
As close as bone to skin?
How long? How long?

My eyes have seen too much, too much
To let you go, but I let you go

How far will you go?
How far till we don’t know?
How far?

Could I reach and draw you back?
Cover up your tracks?
How far? How far?

My eyes have seen too much, too much
My eyes have seen too much, too much
To let you go, but I let you go

Confession

Written by Nathan P. McDonald. 2008.

I’m a fading flame
I can’t say when I began to dim
Born to know the truth
God is not gonna give up on me yet

I’ve been reaching out my hands
In the dark for far too long
Hoping I could feel my way
To where my heart belongs

I’ve made no quiet place
Where I can hang my coat
And let myself be known
Honest and exposed

Who can know the truth?
I can only guess we’re half-awake
Walking in a dream
And it scares me half to death to think I’m right

There’s just too much trouble
Breaking ground beneath my feet
To think that I could keep on walking
And never know defeat

Come inside with me
We’ll hang up our coats
Let ourselves be known
Honest and exposed

I’ve been reaching...

Come inside...

Find It in Your Eyes

Nathan P. McDonald, Jordan R. McDonald. © 2016 Littlebeck Records.

I don’t have a lot of money
I don’t have a lot to prize
All my treasure, all my riches
I find it in your eyes

I don’t have a constellation
I’ve no promise in the skies
All my dreams, all my vision
I find it in your eyes

In the morning when I hear
You calling, calling me to rise
The sun is slow but enough light’s shining
I find it in your eyes

If the night brought the sting
Of a memory, a memory I despise
All the hope I need to kill my fever
I find it in your eyes

Grain of the Sky

Nathan P. McDonald. © 2016 Littlebeck Records.

Shake off the dogs that are on my heels
Rip out the spokes of that spinning wheel

Push back the hand that wants to hold my tongue
Never knew my words could become that numb

Dig in to where I know I can hide
Let myself breath with you by my side

Sweep up the dust that has been too long
Covering the glow of that unheard song

I won't believe a word until I see you're gone
And then I'm on my knees pleading
Begging for the morning from the setting sun
My only answer is the evening

Under the stars, grain of the sky
I cannot be worried
The silence is true, the light will abide
I will free myself to let it go

I think I’m special, then I think I’m dumb
I open up a bottle with a calloused thumb

Into the river, Baby, hold my hand
Wash ourselves clean from that sinking sand

I won’t believe a word…

I will free myself to believe what’s gone
Couldn’t give me more than I’ve already got
I should know by now, even though I'm small
I have all I need to let it go

I wanna go to the heights, write my name on the mountains
I wanna go to the depths, and kiss the bottom of the sea
I wanna go to the span of that moonlit horizon
I wanna go to the place where you're next to me

Made In The USA

Written by Nathan P. McDonald. Summer 2011.

In the Philippines, Jamaica Cambodia, Sri Lanka
Your best-looking onesies were made

All your bath towels and swaddlers
Your cute pair of All-stars
Were made in Vietnam at low wage

Pakistan provides ya
With most of your pajamas
And India made your Pooh Bear

But Baby, I can proudly say
To the world if I may
You were made in the USA

In a fact’ry in Bangladesh
On the isle, Mauritius
Jeans were made for your pudgy legs

A matching hat and sweater
Was knit by your Grandmother
With yarn from Iceland white as eggs

Travel ‘cross the ocean
To fact’ries set in motion
Where China gets the credit for your crib,
And your diapers, and your colored pacifiers
Your carseat, your stroller, your yellow steam roller
And your bottles handpicked for BPA-free plastic
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera . . . 

But Baby, I can proudly say . . . 

Bright blue eyes
You got ‘em from your mama
She’s a rather darling gal
Plump, round cheeks
Ya, you got ‘em from her too
Your inheritance is tried and true

Those long curls
You got ‘em from your papa
Though he doesn’t have much left
You’ll know love
That’s what brought us both together
And that’s the label you get to wear
Love’s the label you get to wear

Pakistan provides ya . . . 

But Baby, I can proudly say . . . 

Monster In the Mountains

Nathan P. McDonald. © 2016 Littlebeck Records.

Monster in the mountains covering his face
A shadow grips the hillside, darkness fills the space
In the holler of the Ozarks where there is no resting place
Monster in the mountains covering his face

Monster in the mountains hiding from the storm
A rage of wind and water leaves the valley torn
The groaning congregation left to bleed before the Lord
Monster in the mountains hiding from the storm

Monster in the mountains spilling out his tears
A haunting superstition has widows bound in fear
Orphans grieve in silence; does anybody hear?
Monster in the mountains spilling out his tears

Monster in the mountains pulling back his mane
The echo of a new song from the northern plain
Rumors of a kingdom, and a coming reign
Monster in the mountains pulling back his mane

Monster in the mountains dancing in the sun
With his fingers to the fiddle, the prince from Avalon
Chases 'way the Spooklight, frees the idle tongue
Monster in the mountains dancing in the sun

Oh Mama

Written by Nathan P. McDonald, Jordan R. McDonald, and Jessica R. McDonald. June-July 2011.

Don’t suggest what I’m thinking
I’m gonna be truthful
When I feel you’ve laid down all your arms

You’ve always got good intentions
I know you’re no devil
But I grow weary when you play the part

I just need to be heard
Speak my mind without questions
And feel easy

I’m no problem to solve
My troubled heart just needs time, Dear
A slow healing

Oh Mama, oh Mama
Listen to my song
My mind is full of worry
My heart is full of doubt

Give me space and some freedom
To be what I’m feeling
Gain some footing on this shaky ground

Babe, you’ve gotta believe me
I wanna be near you
But for now I need to be alone

There are times I am strong
And other times I am weak, Dear
I won’t argue

There are days I believe
And other days I am doubtful
My heart fading

Oh Mama...

We hold a love that always shakes things up
We hold a love that makes us carry on

Oh Mama...

Oh My Love

Nathan P. McDonald. © 2016 Littlebeck Records.

There are times when all you do is breath
I just can’t explain it
Words would never do you right
God just gave me eyes to see it

And if you turn and smile my way
I just fall apart
You could have anything you wanted
Have the night never see the sun again

You are the only one
Who has held my eyes
Oh my Love!

You are the only one
Who I give my life
Oh my Love!

When I’m gone and far away from home
I can’t help but think about you
There’s a part of me that always loses grip
When you’re not by my side, Dear

When I return and walk through our door
I just wanna hold you
Whatever you need I am there for you
I am yours, you are mine, believe it

You are the only one…

Out Of Your Reach

Nathan McDonald. © 2008 Littlebeck Records.

Like a cat on the street
Stray and hungry for days
You were a roamer looking for a home

Needing more than a roof
You had struck out on love
He was the first one to let you in

Now you don’t mind the gap
Between yourself and the sky
You’ve got your fill of clouds in your lungs

And when he kisses your mouth
You breathe enough of his air
To float above the surface of your doubt

It’s out of your reach
With your feet on the ground
It doesn’t matter where you’re standing from

It’s out of your reach
You won’t turn back around
You’ll never pardon who you have become

He’s carving your name
On the length of his chest
Italic letters and a blue guitar

You wait outside with nothing to do
But light up your last
And watch the Northern Lights

It’s out of your reach…

When I feel a weight on my bones
I can make a trade for a lighter load
When my head is hanging low
I gotta lift it up to a higher road

It’s out of your reach…

You’ve never seen such a mess
Than when you look in the mirror
You can’t look away even if you tried

He’s got more than you have
And he’s all that you’ve got
But baby, this is not your gravity

Shadow

Nathan P. McDonald, Jordan R. McDonald, Libby R. Myszka. © 2016 Littlebeck Records.

It’s alright, babe, I’m just following my shadow
Once I catch her heel, I’ll be dancing in the sun
You will know I am well; You will know my mind’s at ease
No more feeling like I’m under siege
I will rest my legs, I will rest my head on my pillow
No more following my shadow

It's alright, babe, I'm just cutting down the gallows
When the old oak falls, I'll be saddling my horse
You will know I'm alive; You will know my blood is hot
No more breathing through the hangman's knot
I will ride my stud through the blackened mud of the shallows
With my back to the gallows

You can hear me howl, you can hear me roar
Like a dog left alone in the house
You can hear my fingers scratching up and down the door
And the hair is raising on the back of my hands
I can feel the coming of a storm
Maybe I am crazy, but I've made it thru these times before
I'm foolish if I fight alone

Theodore Jones
(Diggin’ up a Dinosaur)

Nathan P. McDonald, Jordan R. McDonald. © 2016 Littlebeck Records.

He walks like a man on a wire
He talks in circles while he rakes the floor
Diggin' up a dinosaur

He throws his coins in the fire
He strikes his luck on the lowest score
Diggin' up a dinosaur

Nobody knows
How their own story's gonna end
Theodore Jones
Reaching for shadows wearing thin
Leave his hands alone
Diggin’ his own grave
In the road you leave behind

He tucks his notes in a bottle
He jumps the bird like a labrador
Diggin' up a dinosaur

He paints his skin like a model
He rolls his joints in an open door
Diggin' up a dinosaur

Every bone is a ghost
Every ghost has a secret
That dinosaur’s gonna haunt
Every treasure below
Theodore Jones, Theodore Jones