More Words in Search of a Place in the World

Today is Pete Seeger's date of birth. He would have been 102 this year.

He is still sorely missed. He believed the world will change if people participate. I believe that too. Pete got people to sing. That was his way. I like when people sing with me and my wife. It's our way and the audience's way of participating.

Pete wrote songs. I write some. My wife writes some. Sometimes we write them alone, sometimes together. 

The writing process is in some ways easy and in others frustrating. Sometimes the words and melody come easy and quick. Other times it is a single line that comes and then ruminates and hangs around in the brain, getting lost in the shuffle of life only to arise unexpectedly a year later to say, "Here I am again, I belong in a song." These are simply such words and thoughts that might make it out to the rest of the world someday. Sort of still searching for a full melody to carry them off. Happy Birthday, Pete.

When I die, spread my ashes wide

Let winds carry me wherever they may blow

Don’t put me in a box or on a shelf inside

Take me places I have never been but want to go

When I die, throw my ashes in the air

Let the winds take me wherever they go

I still want to hear your voice

I want to hear your song

Sing it loud, sing it strong

Sing it when you need

to right all things wrong.

Farmers work the land

Workers take a stand

Raising the food we eat

Making things we need

And barely getting by

The bankers own the farm

They own the houses too

And barely getting by

Means that come each month, 

the interest is still due

The bosses pay the workers

As little as they can

It really doesn’t matter

If you’re white or black or tan

If we could raise the food we eat

And make the things we need

There’d be no need for bosses 

And bankers would be on their knees

The bosses ride our asses 

When we should be riding theirs

And the interest the bankers want

Shouldn’t be our worry or our cares.

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It’s gonna be a long summer

Marching in the street

Voting with our feet

It’s gonna be a long summer

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When I die throw me the air

Let the winds take me

Wherever they blow

Or toss me in a river

And the water carry me

Wherever it flows

But it you choose to bury me

Let it be not so deep

So that I can rise again

And in your memory keep

Let us walk together

Hand in hand

Until the day comes 

When we no longer have to stand

And raise our voices loud

To right the wrongs we see around us.

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How did we get so willing

To put up with all this killing

Ain’t it time

Ain’t it time

To learn to love our neighbors once again.

I’ve got this empty rifle here

I’ve got no ammunition

Nothing left to fight with

Except my wits and intuition

Can anybody tell me

Why this fightin’s keeping on

Ain't it time to lay our weapons down

Ain’t it time

It seems there are bodies everywhere

As we walk these streets alone

The blood that’s on our hands

The tears we’ve shed alone

Too many wounds have bled too long

Too many tears, tears of grief, tears of rage

Have led us all to this mournful song

Is this what we dreamt of

When we fought and won 

What we called our liberty

Is this what it now takes

Or are we no longer free

Are these weapons 

Another link in the chain of tyranny.