Miranda Hope: Music

Vinyl in the morning,
The scratches and the clicks.
Adding to the dignity,
Jimi Hendrix.
Horseshoes fly at sunset,
Never hit the pits.
Darkness slips in on the sly,
Forcing us to quit.

Do you remember when you’d never die?
Do you remember 45’s?

You could slow them down to 33,
In the middle of a song.
But vain attempts to play with time
Always turn out wrong.
The needles dulled, the record players
All but went away.
The papers sleeves got wrinkled,
But the music wouldn’t age.

Diamond needle falls to a world that I hold dear.
Elephants and moonbeams and wishing you were here.
Watching the detectives, if I only had a clue,
Sweet home Alabama, I ‘d be coming home to you.

It’s twenty years later.
Things didn’t turn out as planned.
I’m not a Soul Train dancer
Or fronting a big hair band.
But it’s summer in the mountains
And we made it here alive.
But winter’ll be here soon enough,
So spin that 45.

Vinyl in the evening,
When the stars revolve the sky
And shoot their streaks of light
Like the groove of a 45.
I’m looking for a needle
And the ridges of a track
And a life that I can drop down in
That’ll never send me back.

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)

Tapping my foot, spinning my thumbs.
Waiting for my time to come.
Got it all worked out, just holding back.
Planning my attack.
It’s gonna be great, gonna be so strong,
Probably be perfect, can’t go wrong.
Got it all worked out, guess I said that before,
Just gotta keep my eyes fixed on that closed door.
But I can wait, my patience is biblical and
Besides, this chair, it’s really comfortable. So,

I’ll wait for a sign, I’ll wait for the time.
I’ll wait til I hear, maybe next year.
I’ll wait til that coast is sunny and clear.
Until I’ve learned, wait my turn.
Just sit here and wait my turn.

I’ll wait for the backup, I’ll wait till I stack up.
I’ll wait for the Muse, got nothing to lose.
I’ll wait till I’m sure, what I can’t endure
Is being burned. Wait my turn.
Just sit here. Wait my turn.

Sometimes I hear a voice saying, “No one is coming to save you.
You got hands, you got legs. Go open that door and walk through.”

I’ll wait till I’m inspired, once I’ve retired,
I’ll begin, Oh, I’ll really dig in
When it feels small and asks nothing at all.
Got no concerns. Wait my turn.
Grow old. Wait my turn.

Once I’ve read War and Peace, maybe once I’ve deceased,
And all is resolved and dissolved.
All is unpinned, bones blanching in wind.
Cannot return. Wait my turn.
Just die here, wait my turn.

There’s an icicle melting, wondering “where’d it all go?”
A temperature swearing that it doesn’t know,
A wild wind whipping yearning for rest.
A dried out river bed, hoping for the best.

There’s me and there’s you and there’s all of this change.
The three of us sitting here, trying to rearrange:
What we had in mind and what we actually got.
What we are, what we are not.

A tropical storm needs some more space.
A cliff that’s self conscious, such a rocky face.
The leaves have decided to stick with the trees.
Polar bear wintering down in the Keys.

There’s an old hill feeling stuck,
Lonely and down on its luck.
The clouds that once shaded it drifted too far.
Here’s hoping they're happy wherever they are.

Spinning planet, dizzy from the ride,
Calls it an evening, lets out the tide.
Sun slowly setting, warm in its blanket,
Scans the horizon for whatever sank it.

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)
• MP3 short clip, lo-fi play (modem)

When I showed up, I needed you.
You turned me into something new.
Something that could live on my own.
You tossed me the key, said,
“Come as you please.
Be sure to lock up when you go.”
I’ll be sure to lock up when I go.

I wish I could love you
the way that you want me to.
I wish I could be what you need.
So I’d never have to face myself
or find someone else
or know a thing about grief.
I don’t know the first thing about grief.

Did Eve leave Eden kickin' and screamin',
Did she slip out in the dark?
Is there good in goodbye or just the
quiet sigh of something being torn apart?
Something worn being torn apart?

I look at you looking at me,
I look to see what you see.
That woman there bears no relation to me.
Maybe you loved me, maybe I tried,
maybe our dreams crawled off to die.

What feels like going backwards, it’s the road ahead.
What’s been knit together, it’s a pile of loose thread.
What’s been an angel in a promised land,
It’s just another cancan through a one year stand.
What’s been our life, it’s crowding my head.
It feels like a scream that I never said.
A scream I never said.

Started late, ended soon,
like the rise in a valley of a red and full moon.
Came on quickly, left just as fast.
Nothing but a moment, a moment that’s past.

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)
• MP3 short clip, lo-fi play (modem)

Mm the future, mm the past.
This is somebody’s first time
and somebody else’s last.
It’s all brand new
It’s as old as the hills.
And I could survive in the woods with my skills
And this TV and A/C and these prescription refills.

There’s a cold wind blowing, cold wind near.
An ice storm comin’ child, an ice storm here.

So much food, I can’t get full.
This dried out thirst is insatiable.
Every warm breeze gives me a chill.
I’m gonna eat this chicken I couldn’t possibly kill.
‘Cause I got the need but I don’t have the will.

So damn crowded, I can’t find a soul.
Everyone’s busy, not one with a goal.
We got more people living than have ever died.
I’d like to take them all for a ride,
I’d like to bring them all inside.

They said follow your heart, well my heart got me here.
They said go with your gut, well I went and got stuck.
They said build it and they will come, well my building’s come undone.
With everything to lose, and nothing to gain,
I’ll take a little more freedom, a little less pain.

Everyone I meet is a foul weather friend.
Over’s rolling over and over again.
I remember the future, better than the past.
See this is my first time, this is my last.
See this is my first time, this is my last.

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)
• MP3 short clip, lo-fi play (modem)

In the noisy city
Where our drunken laughter was
Camera show me where the flood
Wrecked the neighborhood.

When the evening anchor calmly
Put it all in place
As with any hopeless case
We all misunderstood.

So far removed
We thought it was all about us.

I ride on the elevator
Gliding up and down
Little room I sit around
Sometimes I’m satisfied

You I’m getting more and more of
Your body and your mind
And you even put your hand in mine
From time to time.

When your face goes blank
I think, it’s all about me.

Living with some needed repairs.
Living with some needed repairs.
Sometimes seeing passed them.

This year’s shaping up to be
a better year than last
The past stays in the past
more than it used to.

If I’m in a bubble then
apologize to whom?
Everyone needs a room
So hard to get to.

Everybody move
This is no stick up.

Living with some needed repairs.
Living with some needed repairs.
Sometimes seeing through them.

You’ll see,
and then I will see,
and then we’ll go far.
Then I’ll know,
then you will know
and we’ll be where we are.

‘Cause I know
this much is true:
this thing we do,
it’s bigger than me,
it’s bigger than you.

It’s a dream come true
to be standing here in front of you,
saying that I, that I . . .

Can and I will and I’ll say right now that I want to.
I am and I’ll be and I’ll swear to you now I’ll continue to.
And I will when I say that I’ll stay by you for always.
I’ll have and I’ll hold, I’ll be weak, I’ll be bold,
I will cherish and tease, challenge and need you,
I’ll grow old with you, I will marry you.
Yes I do.

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)
• MP3 short clip, lo-fi play (modem)

Driving alone,
driving this back road to my home.
The ride has been long, the rain has been rough,
but baby, my baby, I can’t get there fast enough.

I know this road like we’ve never been apart,
like my blood knows the way from my head to my heart.
The road still turns red, right after the bridge
and the night sky still slides into the arms of the Blue Ridge.

I need a different dream.
This one I’m clinging to is killing me.
I know it’s naïve to think anything anymore.
But these choices I’ve got rip me straight to the core.

And I’d like to believe in a simpler time,
when the love that I felt didn’t turn on a dime.
When people stayed near to those they needed so bad,
Was it everything they wanted or was it all that they had?

When everything they used, they made with their hands and
where a man stood was where that man stands.
The goal was so easy, it wasn’t written in sand:
Just live, live, live, live as long as you can.

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Well, they threw the baby out with the bath water,
She’s runnin’ so fast, no one’s caught her.
Clutchin those toys her mother bought her
And the water’s getting hotter and hotter.
She’s America’s dream, America’s daughter.

She popped out smarter than the status quo
Due to listening to Mozart in utero.
Mostly good and rarely bad,
grabbed every gold star that teacher had.
America’s dream, America’s achiever.

They tried to make up for their mistake,
Fed her Rice a Roni and Shake 'n' Bake.
They plumped her up, slimmed her down,
She’s the hottest saddest thing in town.
America’s dream, America’s daughter.

Well she learned everything a woman should,
Exfoliated everything she could.
Learned every trick and every fad
And the 10 best ways to keep a man she never had.
America’s dream, America’s wanter.

She landed that apartment on the upper west side:
Another million dollar place to hide.
Sent out personal ads and internet jokes.
Felt all alone and piled with folks.
America’s dream, America’s daughter.

Sometimes she wondered what she liked,
Then kept on pleasing, day and night.
Sometimes wondered if there might be more
Than can be bought in that department store.
America’s dream, America’s buyer.

She read self-help books by the shelf,
Leaned on books instead of herself.
Answered her questions with half-information,
Replaced doubt with positive affirmations.
America’s dream, America’s self-improver.

She packed her bags and moved out west.
She could use the space she could user the rest.
When she saw that sea all free and wet,
She dropped her purse and her regret and
Well. . . . walked through those waves into the sunset.

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)
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Michelle waits the tables of Chicago,
9 to 5, 5 to 1.
She doesn’t cry when she tells me
Her sister’s been shot in Miami.
She says, “That’s how my life runs.”

A banker from Boston,
On a late night by a pool in Bombay,
Wonders if maybe
There isn’t more to life than money
And turns his head away.

I can’t remember the last time that I knew
Someone was saying something I should listen to.

I live with an actor from LA,
Spends his time screening his calls.
Says “These circles of pretending
Are just never ending
And all I can I feel today is small.”

I know a woman who married.
Puts her whole life on a shelf.
Says she keeps up that ironing
To keep away that longing
To leave and take care of herself.

Called Michelle in Chicago.
She’s still got the strength to be kind.
She’s still waiting those tables
To the best that she is able.
Says her life’s “going”
Asks me how’s mine.

I would tell her I’m happy
But I can’t say for sure that I’m sane.
I don’t even know how
To know where to go now.
Everywhere looks the same.

I can’t remember what any of this is for.
What I once knew isn’t true anymore.
I can’t remember the last time that I knew
Someone was saying something I should listen to.

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)
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When we last met, I had so many dreams.
Stir the world in my coffee with my sugar and cream.
But life came along and she topped off my cup
With a news so hard I could hardly dream it up.
Left me fragile, shy and confused,
And a whole lot better for standing here next to you.

The tide it goes out and it finds it’s way in
And it drifts us apart and carries us in again.
Ashes to ashes, but first a tree.
Dust to dust, but first you and me.

I don’t have a job or a husband in tow
I don’t have wallet-sized photos of kids playing the piano.
It’s just me, as I am, scared in my skin.
Let me stay, let me go, let me out, let me in,
It’s just you, as you are, as you’ve always been.
Where we left off, it’s where we begin.

The tide it goes out and it finds it’s way in
and it drifts us apart and carries us in again.
Ashes to ashes, but first a tree.
Dust to dust, but first you and me.

Why do I plan anything at all,
When most of what I do I can hardly recall?
And where did the years go?
I guess Time strung them in his bow
And shot them in his arrow, straight into now.

And the tide it goes out and comes in once more,
And it looks pretty much the same as it did before.
Ashes to ashes, but first a tree.
Dust to dust, but first you and me.