CREDITS FOR THE NEW COMPiLATION ALBUM - EMERGING ARTIST
1. Come What May
Rob Laufer and I wrote this and delivered a recording of it in 24 hours for a film called A Little Inside (later renamed Baseball and the Ballerina) starring Hallie Kate Eisenberg, Benjamin King, and Kathy Baker. Rob sang the version that’s in the film. It’s a great montage scene toward the end. For the album cut, I sang the lead and added Gabe Witcher on fiddle. The song was also used in an episode of Felicity for the DVD release.
Come down from the place where you’ve been hiding
Come out in the sun where you belong
The sorrow’s gonna pass
The sadness doesn’t last too long
Come what may, come what may
It feels good to hear you say
Hello sunshine, it’s a good ol’ day
Come what may, come what may
Something in the rush of the water
Skipping through my dream like a stone
Then I see it’s you, surrounded by the bluest sky
Come what may, come what may
It feels good to hear you say
Hello sunshine, it’s a good ol’ day
Come what may, come what may
Come what may, come what may
It feels good just to hear you say
Hello sunshine, it’s a good ol’ day
Come what may, come what may
Come what may, come what may
It feels good just to hear you say
Hello sunshine, it’s a good ol’ day
Come what may, come what may
BC - acoustic guitar, lead vocal
Rob Laufer - acoustic guitar, electric guitar, bass, drums, backing vocals
Gabe Witcher - violin
Ed Tree - organ
Produced by Rob Laufer and Ed Tree
2. Merciful Man
I read an L.A. Times article by Megan Stack, titled A Hanging Haunts East Texas. In the deep woods south of Linden, Texas, a black man was found dead hanging from a tree. There was some question as to whether 43-year-old Clarence Cole ended his own life or was the victim of a racist act. He was a father of an 8-year old child. There was a short note left behind that pointed to suicide. The weight of this story was heavy on my heart as I was driving south of Nashville and started writing this song in the car.
A hangman’s noose, a lonely pine
A chain reaction to a desperate time
Shot down by the words he said
Better off dead
This thing will bring me to my knees
If I don’t take a little time
And separate what isn’t mine
What isn’t mine has got to be
The very thing that tosses me
In a heap of rubble
I’ve got no time for all this trouble
And what I carry deep inside
Are not the things a man should hide
As the rush of the river
Takes its toll upon the land
I’m eroded by the clutter
Of a merciful man
Of a merciful man
This thing will bring me to my knees
If I don’t take a little time
And separate what isn’t mine
What isn’t mine has got to be
The very thing that tosses me
In a heap of rubble
I’ve got no time for all this trouble
And what I carry deep inside
Are not the things a man should hide
As the weight of the water
Pushes down upon the sand
There’s a burden on the shoulders
Of a merciful man
There’s a burden on the shoulders
Of a merciful man
Of a merciful man
BC - acoustic guitar, lead and backing vocals
Ed Tree - electric guitar, B3 organ. Dobro
Drums - Jorgen Ingmar
Bass - Jim Pipher
Produced by Ed Tree
3. Lines in the Dirt
On my move to California, I stopped to see my grandfather on his ranch in the Sandhills of Nebraska. My cousin Joe Minor, who still ranches there, took me into town to pick up the mail and the paper. It had been raining, and he got a call from a couple of hired hands who were stuck in a pasture. After a long drive, we finally found them and proceeded to get stuck ourselves trying to pull them out. It was now pouring. While we waited for a tractor to arrive to pull out both pickup trucks, we listened to his lone 8-track tape of Kenny Rogers’ Greatest Hits and read the Grant County News cover to cover. Joe enjoyed some chewing tobacco while I daydreamed about how different my life would be in a matter of days in Los Angeles. I pledged to myself to make some music so Joe could have a little more variety for times like these.
It goes on for miles, staking my claim
One my grandfather etched in my name
Made of barbed wire, sharp to the touch
Lines have been drawn by the blood from these cuts
And the fences are here for the cattle
Least that’s what I’ve always believed
But I stand here at odds with my shadow
Safely surrounded by these
Lines in the dirt
Lines in the dirt
Lines in the dirt
These lines
This place it reminds me of things I let go
Like songs that I started but no longer know
And when I lay my head down close to the earth
I listen to reason for what it is worth
And the wind whistles down through the valley
It’s a sound that’s become part of me
And I look to the west for the skyline
Through the dust in my eyes all I see
Are lines in the dirt
Lines in the dirt
Lines in the dirt
These lines
And the sparrows fly over me
Free from humanity
They don’t know all the history
That curses the sanctity of this dirt
The sun it beats down now, on soldiers’ young hearts
Put there to finish what the other side starts
And some will come home from the front lines of war
And ponder their brothers who died by their swords
And the lines have been drawn by their fathers
Least that’s what they’re lead to believe
But the fight it goes way past the borders
Into battles so poorly conceived
Over lines in the dirt
Lines in the dirt
Lines in the dirt
Lines in the dirt
BC - acoustic guitar, lead and backing vocals
Ed Tree - bass, nylon string guitar, piano, baritone guitar
Bob “Boo” Bernstein - pedal steel
Tom Walsh - drums
Produced by Ed Tree
4. Juárez
This song has been my most requested over the years and most covered. Most recently, Mike Nash did a wonderful version of it, and there’s one I love with Katy Moffatt singing that I stumbled upon recently. My car broke down in El Paso, Texas, just across from Ciudad Juárez. That’s where the song began. Then it sat in my ‘Things to Finish’ folder for about a decade until I got inspired in Fraser, Colorado — a place I often go to write. Finally finished the song in Chicago on a little tour with my pal Brian Joesph. The day I finished it, I went for a walk and happened upon a statue of Benito Juárez, the former president of Mexico and namesake of the city. The statue is just north of the Wrigley Building on Michigan Ave.
I was done out of money
I was dry as a bone
Standing on a corner in Juárez, Mexico
Outside Camila’s Catina, I caught a glimpse of home
When a gentle man began to speak to me
He said he used to travel to El Norte
To work the San Joaquin
A locket from his mother
Would ease the suffering
There were days as dry as ashes
And nights as cold as hell
But faith and desperation served him well
If you see him you will know him
By the look upon his face
His left eye kinda twinkles
From the light of peace and grace
He said he speaks in any language
But he favors Español
Oh, Jesus lives in Juárez, Mexico
Well I could see it in his fingers
I could hear it in his voice
The years had not been kind
To one who clearly had no choice
He was baptized in the waters of the restless Rio Grande
Now he’s found a peaceful place to call his home
If you see him you will know him
By the look upon his face
His left eye kinda twinkles
From the light of peace and grace
He said he speaks in any language
But he favors Español
Oh, Jesus lives in Juárez, Mexico
Then it suddenly came clear to me
Just who this wise man was
I wondered if I’d get to see
The miracles he does
So I started in to tell him just where my life went wrong
But it didn’t seem to matter anymore
If you get down to El Paso
Be sure to cross the border
Especially if you need to get your life in order
Outside Camila’s Cantina
That’s where you can save your soul
Oh, Jesus lives in Juárez, Mexico
If you see him you will know him
By the look upon his face
His left eye kinda twinkles
From the light of peace and grace
Well he can speak in any language
But he favors Español
Oh, Jesus lives in Juárez, Mexico
BC - lead and backing vocals
Charlie White - nylon string, bass, and pedal steel guitars, drums
Brian Clune - drums
Produced by Charlie White and Ed Tree
5. This Time Around
Kenny Edwards was a kindred spirit. He played bass and mandolin on this song and also sang backing vocals. Kenny was coming out as a solo artist after years of success as a sideman. Most notably, he was in the Stone Ponies — Linda Ronstadt’s band. He was also in Bryndle with Karla Bonoff, Andrew Gold, and Wendy Waldman, which is when I met him through my good friend Jeff Heiman, who managed the band. This song was written at a time when I was trying to make a major shift in my career. I wanted to turn my focus to songwriting and away from the jingle world that had swept me away for most of my career to that point. It meant significantly less money but considerably more happiness.
Something deep in my chest
I feel it the most when I lay down to rest
Something I fear that I’ll miss
But I need a clear answer to this
And it’s been a long time
The hardest part is I’m doing just fine
Some things are hard to forget
And it’s harder and harder to talk about it
All I know is what it’s come to now
Something that I need to face somehow
Gotta find some way to be wiser
This time around I’ll reach much higher
Nothing holding me here
But a few stubborn walls that harbor my fears
And things that I’ve learned to resist
But I need a clear answer to this
And all I know is what it’s come to now
Something that I need to face somehow
Gotta find some way to be wiser
This time around I’ll reach much higher
Something deep in my mind
In a corner that loses track of the time
Memories can fuel the fire
And take me higher
This time around I’ll reach much higher
This time around I’ll reach much higher
This time around I’ll reach much higher
BC - acoustic guitar, lead and backing vocals
Kenny Edwards - bass, mandolin, backing vocals
Debra Dobkin - percussion
Gary Ferguson - drums
Produced by Ed Tree
6. Nashville
This song is about my fear of failure. Before deciding to move to California, I considered Nashville. It was really the place to go for aspiring songwriters. But I knew I had to make a living and felt I could best do that in one of the advertising music centers of Los Angeles or New York. Years later, as I was well-established in my career and had some interest from Nashville publishers, I took Celeste there to consider it again. But I’m not a guy who churns out songs rapidly, and the Nashville ‘machine’ just didn’t seem like a good fit. There’s a shout-out to my good friend and long-time Nashvillian Billy Block toward the song’s end. I played Billy’s Nashville show a number of times.
I don’t want to die in Nashville
I don’t want to wake up one day
Buried at the pristine gates
Sacred ground of the greats
I don’t want to let it go that way
Well Johnny would have called me a coward
But in the words of the great Harlan Howard
I don’t want to die in Nashville
I don’t have the heart for Nashville
I don’t want to squelch this flame
It’s burning like my soul’s on fire
Shouting like an old town crier
I don’t want to burn out here
Cause one hit and a lifetime of heartbreak
Is more than this self-doubting man can take
I don’t want to die in Nashville
Maybe I’ll go down to Jackson
And open up my guitar case on the street
And right there in the shadow of the steeple
Play my heart out for the people
And keep these songs alive
Well don’t get me wrong I don’t hate this place
But when I go I want a touch of grace
Just a touch of grace
I don’t want to die in Nashville
I don’t want to die in Nashville
I got some mighty good friends here but I still
Don’t want to die in Nashville
Well Billy Block lives here but I still
Don’t want to die in Nashville
In Nashville, in Nashville
BC - acoustic guitar, lead and backing vocals
Kenny Edwards - bass, mandolin
Ed Tree - baritone guitar
Dave Ristrim - pedal steel
Tom Walsh - drums
Produced by Ed Tree
7. Paper In Heaven (Brad Colerick/Kal Colerick)
My six-year-old son asked if there was paper in Heaven. I knew it would soon become a song. Written almost entirely on a flight to Nashville from L.A. We had a giant fig tree in our backyard in South Pasadena, and I built a tree house in it when the kids were young. We loved that tree, and it gave us quite a bounty of figs. If you had a dish with figs from Firefly when Wine & Song was there, you may have enjoyed the fruits of our tree.
I was pulling weeds one Sunday afternoon
My six-year-old was wiggling his tooth
He’s always full of questions of the mysteries of life
Oh, they usually make me chuckle
But this one made me cry
He said, Daddy, is there paper in Heaven
So you can write your songs
Mommy says that you’ll be there
One day when you’re gone
Well just in case I tied some paper
Way up high up in my tree
And drew you a treasure map to find it
So you can write to me
Well moments like that don’t often come around
I tried to speak but could not make a sound
So I folded up that treasure map
And I take it out each day
Thankful if, for nothing else, that I got to hear him say
Daddy, is there paper in Heaven
So you can write your songs
Mommy says that you’ll be there
One day when you’re gone
Well just in case, I tied some paper
Way up high up in my tree
And drew you a treasure map to find it
So you can write to me
And he said, when you find the paper
Write a song for me
Then turn it over and draw a picture
Of everything you see
And fold it like a paper airplane
So it circles round and round
I’ll be so excited when I see it coming down
Daddy, is there paper in Heaven
So you can write your songs
And I said, son, to make the music
I don’t need paper to write on
And I memorized your treasure map
The stars, the clouds, the sky so blue
And when I get to Heaven
If God will let me
I’ll toss a paper airplane down to you
Oh, I’ll send it on down to you
BC - acoustic guitar, vocal
Rob Laufer - backing vocals
Charlie White - pedal steel, bass, drums
Produced by Charlie White
8. Brakeman’s Door
Steve Hanson and I started this song in Santa Cruz while we were doing a few California shows together. Steve has a cabin in Long Pine, Nebraska, where, for many years, he put on a bluegrass camp. Long Pine was a thriving railroad town until the rail route was moved in the last century. It was a hub for the Chicago and North Western Transportation Company on what came to be known as the Cowboy Line. The song is about unspoken and unrequited love.
Well he gave his years to that mighty iron horse
And he loved his time on the rails
Spent his days gazing over prairie land
And he knew these towns
They would haul the coal and the wood and the grain
And the towns they grew by the rails
He watched the change as the immigrants came
And their children would wave
But now he signals no one
From the brakeman’s door
For a hundred years it ran through here
Now eagles soar in silence
Outside the brakeman’s door
Well he kept the time on that silver pocket watch
That his father picked up in Omaha
The back opened up to a picture of her
And she would always be there
They called her Maggie, but she was born Imogene
The truest love that never was
‘Cause another man had wrongly taken her hand
When she carried his child
Now he signals no one
From the brakeman’s door
For a hundred years it ran through here
Now eagles soar in silence
Outside the brakeman’s door
When a heart is broken
There’s nowhere left to fly
When steel wheels leave the station
There’s a mighty emptiness left behind
When that final train passed the Upstill Hotel
He could feel his heart coming home
And Imogene, she was standing on her porch
Just a ghost of a woman
But things don’t always go the way that we plan
And the blood of this town was on the rails
When the rail route changed Maggie had to move on
To another railroad town
And now he waits in Long Pine
For her heart no more
He’ll take that secret to his grave
‘Bout the woman he adored, in silence
Outside the brakeman’s door
BC - acoustic guitar, vocal
Herb Pedersen - backing vocals
April Verch - fiddle
Steve Hanson - banjo, mandelin
Charlie White - resonator and acoustic guitar
Dave Roe - upright bass
Produced by Charlie White
9. This is What I Do (Mighty Keeper)
Dave Morrison invited me to be part of a San Gabriel Valley songwriter group he was putting together. We would meet every month or two and bring a new song to the meetings to play and discuss. I was trying to write for our meeting later that day, and I couldn’t concentrate as my neighbor’s dog, Macy, was up in arms about something. I finally threw out my song idea and followed the dog’s lead. It’s a song about me disguised as a song about a dog. Those songwriter gatherings kind of evolved into the Wine & Song series every Wednesday night in South Pasadena.
The colors all seem to run together
As they reach out from the canvas
And tell me what I’m feeling
And I can hear every
Thought inside me
Til the dog next door begins to sound the warning
He says, here I am
Look at me
I’m the mighty keeper of all that you see
I’ve been around this block a time or two
And these are my people here
This is what I do
This is what I do
Then it dawns on me
I’m just like that canine
Barking orders that often fall on deaf ears
And I can strum on this box of rosewood
And scribble words down
On this notebook paper, like
Here I am
Look at me
I’m the mighty keeper of all that you see
I’ve been around this block a time or two
And these are my people here
This is what I do
Oh nothing last forever now
And the puzzle fits together somehow
The years are starting to run together
Like the colors on the painting
I chose to put on this wall
But that was my choice
Or was it my wife
Who wanted a bit more color round here
Anyway
Here I am
Look at me
Aren’t I the mighty keeper of all that you see
I’ve been around this block
Seems like a lifetime or two
These are my people here
This is what I do
This is what I do
This is what I do…
BC - acoustic guitar, lead & backing vocals
Sally Dworsky - backing vocal
Ed Tree - bass, acoustic guitar
Jordan Sollitto - acoustic guitar solo
Produced by Ed Tree
10. Blue Horizon
This song was written in 1992 in Fraser, Colorado. Celeste was living in Japan at the time. Matthew, whom I refer to in the second verse, was a kid I met while on a middle school weekend trip to the Omaha Indian Reservation. He and I became pen pals for a few years until I lost touch with him after going off to college. I think about him often still. The compassion I feel for Indigenous peoples and their struggles has remained with me, and it is probably why I was drawn to Zintkála Nuni after reading her story. See “Little Bird (Lost Bird of Wounded Knee)” — cut #15.
I see myself on the blue horizon
Looking out from a better place
Than where I am
Than were I am right now
I threw my dreams in the wrong direction
Ended up with a better understanding of true
Yeah, I think about you
Oh, hey, what could I do
Now Billy lies still, a gun at his feet
He made his kill before he dropped to the street
Well that’s a small consolation
Hey, for a young man
And Matthew lives on a reservation
He’s doing time for the sins of a nation
Twenty years since I’ve seen him
But what could do
Oh, hey, what could I do
I’m just one man, pushing on through
Just like anyone else I got hard times too
Just one man and one small voice
And a big, big choice
So hold my place on the blue horizon
Soon as I stop my running
I will be there
There’s just a few loose ends around here
Oh, hey, what could I do
Oh, hey, what could I do
BC - acoustic guitar, vocal
Charlie White - bass, resonator and electric guitar
Steve Hanson - banjo, mandolin
Ken Loggains - drums
Larry Mars - backing vocals
Produced by Charlie White
11. Bachelorette Party
I boarded a 6 A.M. flight at Burbank airport headed for Kansas City with a stop in Las Vegas. Got on early, as I usually do, so I can get my guitar in the overhead bin. Sat in my usual window seat behind the wing. Then they came — three behind me, three in front, two next to me, many across the aisle. I was suddenly in the midst of a bachelorette party headed for Vegas. Sitting next to me was Rose, the maid of honor. When they were leaving the plane at McCarran airport, she looked back at me and said, “You’re going to write a song about us, aren’t you?” I said, “Some songs just can’t be written.” I was wrong.
She’s got a sash and a glittery ribbon
That lets you know that she’s the bride to be
And all her girlfriends who placed it on her
Are singing loud and a little off key
I can’t understand a word they’re singing
But I love these Armenian songs
Those little bottles of Finlandia Vodka
Appear like magic then they’re gone
I’m in the middle of a bachelorette party
On a 6 A.M. to Kansas City
With a connection at McCarran Airport
To disembark a few good friends
You never know what crazy things’ll happen
I guess we really can’t predict the numbers
But you can board a morning flight to Vegas
And see what the day will bring
She throws her hair up to the vent that’s blowing
Says “Hey look, I’ve got the J.Lo effect”
And everybody starts to laugh and cackle
I crack a smile I hope they don’t detect
‘Cause I’m what you call a seasoned traveler
And these girls don’t show a hint of aging
I’m in the middle of a bachelorette party
You never know what your day will bring
I’m in the middle of a bachelorette party
On a 6 A.M. to Kansas City
With a connection at McCarran Airport
To disembark a few good friends
You never know what crazy things’ll happen
I guess we really can’t predict the numbers
But you can board a morning flight to Vegas
And see what the day will bring
Then Rose her maid of honor
Told her she’s a goner
She laughed so hard that she started to cry
Then Rose looked intently
Touched her friend’s sleeve gently
Uttered something softly
But the words were foreign to me
But I understood it perfectly
I’m in the middle of a bachelorette party
On a 6 A.M. to Kansas City
With a connection at McCarran Airport
To say goodbye to my new friends
You never know what crazy things’ll happen
I guess we really can’t predict the numbers
But you can board a morning flight to Vegas
And see what the day will bring
Come on, let’s board a morning flight to Vegas
Ride some fancy elevators
Find out where life will take us
Let’s see what the day will bring
BC - acoustic guitar, lead and backing vocals
David Plenn - electric guitar
Guillermo Guzmán - bass
Tim Fleming - pedal steel
Dave Tull - drums
Produced by Guillermo Guzmán and Brad Colerick
12. The Big One
A song about fear and regret of roads not taken. My mother, unhappy with my decision to move to California, sat me down to watch a documentary she had recorded about the pending doom in the Golden State. Needless to say, I ignored her sound advice and headed west.
What if the big one hits
What if it all comes down
What if I walk out from this eye of the storm
And it whips my world around
What if this drought keeps up
What if it stays bone dry
Oh, I can’t pretend that I don’t feel
A thirst inside
What if the lightning strikes
What if God looks down
And sees me running away from something
Where all my fears abound
I should have held my ground
What if I’d taken a chance
Oh, I don’t want to be the one
To miss that dance
But what if I’m frozen here with my regret
And never take another step
Toward where I want to go
What will I have to show
What if this heart goes cold
What if these wounds run deep
What if my indecision, this double vision
Is just from lack of sleep
How will I ever know
What joy could come my way
If I don’t shake things up
And fill my cup
Before the big one hits
No use looking at what could have been
What’s come and gone won’t be back again
But if I hold my head up high
And give this one more try
What if the big one hits
What if this song goes gold
What if after all this waiting
My ship comes sailing
Maybe I just need to be bold
What if the harvest brings
Abundance way beyond my dreams
Oh, I hope I find a little peace of mind
Before the big one hits
I want to open that door
Long before the big one hits
BC - acoustic guitar, vocals
David Plenn - electric guitar
Guillermo Guzmán - bass
Tim Fleming - pedal steel
Produced by Guillermo Guzmán and Brad Colerick
13. Manzanar (Yuki)
Yuki died March 8, 2020, at the age of 81, just as the pandemic was kicking in. I read her obituary in the L.A. Times by Steve Marble, and it inspired me to write the song. My friend Paula Willis had invited me to take my family up to her cabin in the Sierra Nevadas following Tim Fleming’s passing. It was a much-welcome escape. The cabin is about 50 miles as the crow flies from Manzanar — where more than 10,000 mostly Japanese-Americans had been incarcerated during WWII. I wrote the song on the cabin porch while staring at the iconic Clem Albers photo of Yuki as a two-year-old at Union Station in Los Angeles about to ship out to Manzanar.
Yuki Okinaga Hayakawa was just a little girl
In a great big world that suddenly was closing in
Her mama said Yuki, pack a few things, we’re going away for a while
But I don’t know where and I don’t know how long we’ll be gone
You can take your pretty purse, and look, I bought you some brand new boots
Well, they’re just like mine, gonna leave these old ones behind
Gonna take a train like the one in that book that you love
But I don’t know where, and I don’t know how long we’ll be gone
Sometimes, child, things are hard to explain
People don’t always do what’s right
Funny how fear can poison perceptions
And Yuki, always be proud of who you are
They tell me our new home is called Manzanar
Yuki grabbed her mother’s leg as they walked into the room
With six complete strangers, a face of uncertainty and danger
Some cots, straw-stuffed mattresses, blankets and an oil stove
And a single light bulb, swinging from the breeze through the floorboards
Sometimes, child, things are hard to explain
People don’t always do what’s right
We’ve got to be strong, and just hold on to each other
And Yuki, always be proud of who you are
Someday we’ll walk away from Manzanar
We’ve got to be strong, and just hold on to each other
And Yuki, someday you’ll go far
Past the barbed-wire fences of Manzanar
BC - acoustic guitar, vocal
Chihana Onishi - resonator guitar
Guillermo Guzmán - bass
Nick Vincent - drums
Isaku Kageyama - taiko drums
Produced by Brad Colerick
14. Time Machine
My grandfather had a 1971 powder blue, four-door Lincoln Continental that my mother inherited. I called it the Time Machine. For a number of years when I returned home, I had the pleasure of “time-traveling” in it around the state of Nebraska. Scott Feldmann made a really fun video for the song, but we couldn’t find a suitable four-door photograph, so we had to substitute a two-door model. In the video, Tim Fleming is my co-pilot, as he had been many times in real life throughout the state.
You’ve got to see my time machine
Runs on a bass line and gasoline
I’m gonna take you places, I’m gonna take you places
I’m gonna take you places that you’ve never been
Places like Unadilla, Valparaiso, Ogallala, and Winnebago
Brainard to Belvidere, you’d never know there were people here
We’ll write it all in a travelogue
And send a postcard from Dannebrog
Boys Town to Gurley, you might think that we’re in a hurry
But we’re not, you see, cause we’ve got the time machine
We got the time, it’s on our side
We could go for a truncated ride
You’ve got to see my time machine
Runs on a guitar and a tambourine
I’m gonna take you places, I’m gonna take you places
I’m gonna take you places that you’ve never been
That you may never go again
Well that’s just the state I’m in
Chadron to Valentine, time traveling blows my mind
It won’t be long till we’re sitting down
At Ole’s Big Game Steakhouse & Lounge
Axtell to Bushnell, you might think that we’re in Rushville
But we’re not, you see, ‘cause we’ve got the time machine
We got the time, it’s on our side
We could go for a truncated ride
You’ve got to see my time machine
Runs on a bass line and gasoline
I’m gonna take you places, I’m gonna take you places
I’m gonna take you places that you’ve never been
That you may never go again
Well that’s just the state I’m in
We got the time, it’s on our side
We could go for a truncated ride
You’ve got to see my time machine
Runs on a guitar and a tambourine
I’m gonna take you places, I’m gonna take you places
I’m gonna take you places that you’ve never been
That you may never go again
Well that’s just the state I’m in
BC - acoustic guitar, vocal
David Plenn - electric guitar
Guillermo Guzmán - bass
Nick Vincent - drums
Produced by Brad Colerick
15. Little Bird (Lost Bird of Wounded Knee)
Please watch the video on my YouTube channel. It’s a true story of a Lakota infant who survived the 1890 massacre at Wounded Knee and the ensuing three-day blizzard from the warmth of her mother, who had been killed in the violent bloodshed. Adopted by a National Guard general from Beatrice, Nebraska, she was raised in white high society but never really fit in. When she tried to reconnect with her Lakota people, she was similarly shunned. The name a Lakota woman gave her before General Colby took her away was Zintkála Nuni — Lost Bird.
Little bird, fly away
You were not meant to be here
To face this fire
Little bird, far away
I can see the distance in your eyes
The promise of a ghost dance
The rhythm of the drum within you
A shadow of the massacre
Little bird, mother’s child
Gave you all the warmth she had
To keep you breathing
Little bird, whisked away
Orphaned like the buffalo from these valleys
Lost in a ghost dance
Spirits have come looking for you
They won’t rest until you’re home
Little bird, troubled child
You can feel your mother’s love
And frozen fingers
Lost bird, Zintkála Nuni
Aimlessly searching for yourself
Lifted by the ghost dance
Your feathers console your people
Soar above the wind now, child
You’re going home
You’re going home
Little bird
Lost, but not alone
You’re not alone
BC - vocals, acoustic guitar, Lakota drum, strummed violin
Sally Dworsky - backing vocal
Fred McCall - native flute
Guillermo Guzmán - bass
Produced by Brad Colerick
16. Emerging Artist
Written at Doc’s Outpost in Camp Nelson, California — the same cabin where“Manzanar” was penned. After being referred to for years as an “emerging artist,” my friend Jeff Heiman and I used to laughingly discuss when I might become “fully emerged.” Jeff passed away on August 13, 2023, and I miss him dearly. I decided to make this song the title cut in his honor. He would have gotten a kick out of it, and I can hear his distinct laugh chuckling about it now.
I used to be an emerging artist
Used to play in a Christian band
Had faith in the world around me
Had countless number one fans
We used to sit at the Village Inn diner
And drink coffee till they kicked us out
Scratched words on those paper placemats
And hummed the melodies to our hit songs
But then those hit songs fell by the wayside
Never made a B-side cut
And now I stand here singing for what?
Whatever I can get
The dream, I’m just living it
Yeah, I’m living it
I fell in love with a force of nature
I could make you laugh and cry
Twelve notes and a few guitar licks
And some things I felt deep inside
Where have you gone, my Angel?
Have you given up on me?
What happened to the boy
That used to live so fearlessly?
Well those hit songs fell by the wayside
Never made a B-side cut
Now I stand here singing for what?
Whatever I can get
The dream, I’m just living it
Yeah, I’m living it
Just when I think I may have written my last song
Another blast of inspiration comes along
And it’s dark outside, I’m awake
So I click that coffee on
I used to be an emerging artist
There were folks thinking I’d break through
Granted there were only two or three
But nonetheless I believed it too
Now the glow from the cabin fire
Flickers light on an old guitar
I don’t think that I could be this happy
If I hadn’t come so far
And though those hit songs fell by the wayside
Never made a B-side cut
I’ll keep on singing, singing for what?
Whatever I can get
Yeah, whatever I can get
The dream, I’m still living it
BC - acoustic guitar, lead and backing vocals
Dave Ristrim - resonator guitar
David Plenn - electric guitar
Peter Freiberger - bass
Nick Vincent - drums
Produced by Brad Colerick
17. Travelers (Joshua Tree)
My son and I took a monthlong camping trip, and our first stop was Joshua Tree. I packed the tent but forgot the poles. So we ended up under the stars side by side on a concrete picnic table. It was a magical night - the sky was alive with stars and meteors and satellites. And we chatted until we drifted off to sleep. When I awoke early the next morning, this song was going through my head. I grabbed the guitar from the car and started playing the chord progression. The song was nearly finished by the time we packed up.
Warm breath of a desert night
Give the travelers a break from the sunlight
Lone coyote splits the silence
Night sky is alive
The night sky is alive, and so are we
We come traveling across this land
Like all who have walked upon this sand
These sacred bushes and boulders
Have stood their ground
They’ve stood their ground, and so must we
We look to the heavens
To get out of our heads
We look to the future
When we should look back instead
At all the other travelers
Who have gazed at what we see
As they danced by the Joshua Tree
Danced by the Joshua Tree
Lying here I can feel the power
Of this place, this day and this hour
Ever we will clutch this moment
When we got to come together
Travelers together, you and me
Ah, you and me
And the Joshua Tree
Let’s look to the heavens
And get out of our heads
We’ll dance with the angels
And be heart to heart again
Imagine all the other travelers
Who were here before we
Got a chance to dance by the Joshua Tree
By the Joshua Tree
Dance by the Joshua Tree
Oh, by the Joshua Tree
BC - acoustic guitar, vocals
Dave Ristrim - banjo
Peter Freiberger - bass
Nick Vincent - drums
Produced by Brad Colerick
18. Song For an Old Friend
This song was my very first, written for Marcia Wieber’s music-theory class my junior year at Lincoln East High School. My girlfriend, Linda Kastl, shared a poem that she wrote called “Survival” about an old man. It reminded me of the elderly gentleman who lived just across the highway from where I grew up. I didn’t see many people coming or going and wondered what his life was like. Our interaction in the song is pure fiction. The truth is all the kids in the neighborhood were frightened to even go near his driveway. I later added a final verse and changed one line.
In a field by the edge of town lives an old man
He’s lived his life now he just hangs around
He’s an old man
He rests his hands upon his knees, smokes his pipe
And watches the flowers and the trees
As they grow, as they grow old
And it brings him to…
Thinkin’ and wonderin’ ‘bout what he’s been thinkin’
Questions unanswered and answers unquestioned
How can he live if he knows not what living is
How can he wait if he knows not what for
He sits on the porch in a paint-peeled rocking chair
Thinking about all the twisted roads that brought him here
His dreams have long gone past but his memories will always last
Watching the flowers and trees grown old
And it brings him to…
Thinkin’ and wonderin’ ‘bout what he’s been thinkin’
Questions unanswered and answers unquestioned
How can he live if he knows not what living is
How can he wait if he knows not what for
The old man died last night, unnoticed as the air
And all they know is what he carved into
That paint-peeled rocking chair
It said, if my life should end
Before the flowers begin to die
I wanna be close by
‘Cause it brings him to…
Thinkin’ and wonderin’ ‘bout what he’s been thinkin’
Questions unanswered and answers unquestioned
How can he live if he knows not what living is
How can he wait if he knows not what for
And now that he’s gone
That old friend of mine
I think about the words that he said all the time
He said, I hope that someday, boy
You find what you’re living for
How could he live on
If the flowers grow no more
Live from Wine & Song at the Lost Parrot in South Pasadena, CA
Recorded by Charles Nestle and Ed Donnelly