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Hey pretty lady with the red dress on Buskin’ on the corner, all day long Sing it sweet but sing it strong Sing pretty lady with your red dress on
Your song is like a lover’s kiss, the pleasure without pain Whiskey from a paper bag dulls my aching brain Cold fire in my belly, the voice of a gypsy queen We are chasing rainbows, shadows of our dreams
So sing pretty lady Sing for me a high lonesome song Sing pretty lady Sing it sweet but sing it strong
I worked hard all my life getting closer to my goal But every time that I look up it’s farther than before Now I wander empty streets, hat held in my hand Searching for the answers, I do not understand
I’m leaving here tomorrow on a slow train heading south Going home in glory where my bones will turn to dust They say the grass is greener, just on down the line Make my bed in darkness, leave troubles far behind.
© 2018 Murray D Little (SOCAN), Peter May, Dianne Sophia Quinton (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Street light shining through my window pane Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain Darkness creeps upon me, seeps into my soul Black Dog howls at my door.
I close my eyes, see the fallen lay On the muddy battlefield where I learned to Pray Angel on my shoulder, rifle in my hand Sent me home a shell of a man.
Just holding on, holding on In the silence of the dark before the dawn Just holding on, holding on A shell of a man just holding on.
Jump at my own shadow, back towards the wall All your thoughts and prayers can’t help me at all Haunted by the horror, I could not understand Left me a shell of a man.
Daylight shining through my window pane Made it through the night to sunshine again Will it be whiskey or sacramental wine Choices of a troubled mind.
© 2017 Murray D. Little (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
An ache in my heart that’s deeper than deep Hollow feeling I just can’t beat Been through hell but I could not find The source of this Devil troublin’ my mind.
I lie in bed, these nights without end Close my eyes, I see you with her Living the life that I wanted to I’m a Fallen Angel, fallen for you.
Darling, kiss me once more Before I lock up my windows, seal up my door One last time secure in your arms Your Fallen Angel I mean you no harm.
Should have known I’d never fit in Destined to stand on the sidelines again Always watching never part of the game I’m a Fallen Angel, no one to blame.
Worshiped the ground that you walked upon Now it’s clear your passion is gone Being friends is all you need But I just can’t help how I feel.
So I’m build walls that you can’t get around No doorways or windows will ever be found My walls are thick to shut out the pain And stop the tears from falling again.
© 2019 Murray Little (SOCAN), Murray Fitch (SOCAN) and Laura Wytrykush. Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Five hundred dollars can’t buy you much comfort In a city of fortune and fame The rich getting richer, the poor wonderin’ why They’re nothing but pawns in the game.
At the top of the class they all said I’d go far The girl most likely to shine When twisting of fate on the road in the night Dealt a hand that wasn’t so kind.
Where is my white knight to come rescue me To take me away from my reality
Tell me a story, a fairy tale story With a happy ending for me Of Princes and Kings, castles and Queens Spared a life of broken down dreams.
In a rundown motel on the outskirts of town The woman now well past her prime In the arms of a lover who pays by the hour My mask say’s that I’m doing fine.
Nights spent alone in a tumbled down shack Just to get out of the rain A day to day existence, getting by and getting high My choices to numb all the pain.
© 2018 Murray D. Little (SOCAN) & Sandra Ann Johnson (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
I’m a piece of the puzzle a part of the plan The skin of a lion on the heart of a lamb The meek may inherit, the strong will survive Let’s look at others with open eyes.
Come on down to my world See life from a different point of view Not everyone’s the same … Come walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes.
Sitting on wheels in the middle of the crowd Can’t move ahead and can’t go around Doorway’s too narrow, ramp it is too steep You walk on by and our eyes never meet.
I walk among you old and grey A living legacy of yesterday I have stories to tell, wisdom to share If only you’d listen, if only you’d care.
The colour of our skin, the work that we do Who we choose to love, LGBTQ The language we speak, the faith we believe Together let us stand and wipe away the fear.
© 2018 Murray D. Little (SOCAN) & Suzanne Allison Martin (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Daddy was a hustling kid, but had much bigger dreams Destined for the steel mills, till Grandma intervened Sent him off to law school, admitted to the bar Justice comes in trickles … thanks to Grandma’s Pickle Jar
My sister walked the wild side, breakin’ all the rules Heading down that lonely road to almost certain ruin She runs a children’s clinic, in far off Zanzibar Brings health, hope and tickles … thanks to Grandma’s Pickle Jar
Grandma was a dumpster diver Back alley filled shopping cart driver She kept all her earnings in an old pickle jar We didn’t understand, Grandma had a plan Nickels not pickles, made us who we are.
My daughter is a singer, turning stories into rhyme Every time she’s on the stage, Grandma comes to mind All her hits were written, on a custom made guitar Bought with quarters, dimes and nickels … thanks to Grandma’s Pickle Jar
That pickle jar’s still with me, sitting on the floor Like a bank with dreams and promise, she opened up the door From Grandma down to Daddy, from Daddy down to me Invest in love and promise … be all that you can be.
© 2018 Murray Little (SOCAN) & Gerald Robert Chartier (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Racing down the hill when he was just a child Raw-boned and reckless; wound up and wild He tumbled o’er the bars, he’ll show you the scars Didn’t even slow him down or cramp his style.
In a brown leather apron, worse for wear with age Testament to time-served, in the smoke-filled haze Drawing out the iron – molten sparks a-flyin’ Forging his tools of the trade.
With love in his heart and kindness in his soul A humble and a hard working man Wearing lines, wearing lines Wearing lines of time on his hands
Blackened with the dust and grime from the coal mine seam Engine oil or axle grease from the farm machines The blue collared man in a white collared land Working hard to build a dream.
Those horn calloused hands know the toil of a working life The burn of an errant blade and the touch of a loving wife Brought comfort to the dying, wiped tears from the crying They held and cradled a brand new life.
© 2018 Murray D. Little (SOCAN) & Steven J. Goodchild (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Take me down, (take me down), take me down, (take me down) Take me down to the water, take me down Take me down, (take me down), take me down, (take me down) Take me down to the water, take me down.
When I was a baby in my mama’s arms The sign of the cross in oil upon my brow Stood before the altar in the name of the Lord Baptized with water just to save my soul.
When I was a young man, wild and running free I’d go down to the river, my girlfriend and me Lie on a blanket ‘neath the hot July sun Cool off in the water, let that old river run.
When I was a daddy, with children of my own We’d go down to the ocean, down to the shore Jump through the waves, build castles in the sand Walk along the water’s edge hand in hand.
Now I am an old man, my time is nearly done Take me to the springs where the mineral waters run Lie in the current, soothe my aching bones Let the hearling waters carry me home.
© 2008 Murray D. Little (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
I have seen the towers tumble from the sky I have watched the soldiers march to battle fall and die I have read the tear stained letters, I have heard the orphans cry I have seen the darkness but I know We will rise, we will rise.
I have seen the raging rivers rising from their beds I have heard the whirling winds singing dirges for the dead I have tasted ash from angry fires blackening the sky I have seen the darkness but I know We will rise, we will rise.
I have seen the lines of sorrow etched upon your face For the loved ones who have flown across the threshold into space Never seen the Pearly Gates, but I’ve heard the sinners lies I have seen the darkness but I know We will rise, we will rise.
Like a phoenix we will rise From the ashes from the flames Our souls cannot be broken, and Our wills cannot be tamed Like a phoenix we will rise, we will rise, we will rise Oh again, oh again.
I have heard the gurgles from a baby’s lips As her mother sings a lullaby and rocks her on her hips I have found salvation in my lover’s eye I have seen the sunshine, and I know We will rise, we will rise, we will rise, we will rise.
© 2018 Murray D Little (SOCAN) & Murray Alan Fitch (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Winding through the pine trees, up in the quiet north A lonely stretch of asphalt heading for the coast Tragedy has fallen, down through the years Everybody calls it the Highway of Tears.
Road of Sorrow, Road of Pain Remember our lost, remember every name Road of Heartache, Road of Fear Darkness descending, Highway of Tears
Standing on the shoulder, thumb out for a ride A young girl heading out but she does not arrive No one know the reason, she just disappeared Joined the line of crosses on the Highway of Tears
Walking down the Yellowhead, looking for a sign Searching for an answer to easy his troubled mind His heartache will never end, his pain won’t disappear Lost his only daughter on the Highway of Tears
Road of Sorrow, Road of Pain Remember our lost, remember every name Road of Heartache, Road of Fear Darkness descending, Highway of Tears Lonely and forsaken, Highway of Tears Remember those Lost … to the Highway of … Tears
© 2009 Murray D. Little (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
In the spring of every year I pack my bags and head out here To find a little bit of heaven borrowed from a different time Friends gather from all around lift their voices up in song Creating stolen moments in borrowed time.
When the music starts to play all my cares fade away The rhythms and the rhymes soothe my inmost soul I’m living, living never feeling more alive Sharing stolen moments in borrowed time.
Inspiration moves me so, boundaries pushed and spirit soar I’m pumped up so high, energies, entwine I’m flying, flying in a surrealistic dream Sustained by stolen moments in borrowed time.
When the last song is sung, harmonies linger on My friends all head back home my feet touch the ground ‘Til I’m back, to sing, that chorus once again I’ve stolen moment memories from borrowed time.
© 2001 Murray D. Little (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
January, February, June and July The pages of the calendar fly on by I’m busy, busy, busy don’t know up from down I never have a moment to just look around.
STOP! What’s your hurry RELAX! Take some time to breath ENJOY! The little pleasures of life Stop and smell the roses feel the breeze at night Say “I love you”, to someone dear Hug a child, smile, laugh til the tears Run down you face make you feel alive Seize the moment before it passes you by.
Working in the city in a concrete cage 40 stories high among the smog and haze Hurry, hurry, hurry time is running late I never have a moment to just contemplate.
… Who needs to be the first across Life’s finish line.
There’s an ache in my heart that’s deeper than deep A hollow empty feeling that I just can’t beat Been through hell with the devil but I cold ot find The source of this torment that troubles my mind.
So kiss me my darling, kiss me once more Before I lock up my windows, seal up my door Lie here beside me, secure in my arms I’m your fallen angel I mean you no harm.
I lie in my bed these nights without end When I close my eyes, I see you with him Doing the things that I’m longing to do I’m an angel that’s fallen, I’ve fallen for you.
I should have known that I’d never fit in I’m destined to stand on these sidelines again Always a watcher, never part of the game I’m an angel that’s fallen, I got no one to blame
I worshiped the ground that you walked upon I savoured the air that you breathed You wanted a friend, which I could not be …
So tonight I build walls that you can’t get around No doorways no windows will ever be found The walls will be sturdy to lessen my pain And stop all these teardrops from falling again.
© 2002 Murray D. Little (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
When you were young we sheltered you from harm Taught you what was right and what was wrong We guided you each step along the way Knowing that some day you’d fly away.
Spread your wings, feel the wind beneath you rise Spread your wings, test the air currents as you glide Spread your wings, searching out the far horizons Spread your wings! Spread your wings and fly.
As time passed by your pathways were less clear If you stumbled or you faltered we were near Now its time to leave the sheltered nest The world is yours embark upon your quest.
Spread your wings, have the courage just to try Trust in faith!, Let His spirit be your guide Know yourself, believe in who you are Spread your wings! Spread your wings and fly.
Dance with joy, laugh, its your right Your love of life will keep your spirit bright The power is yours to be whate’er you might Your soul strong and true guides your flight.
Spread your wings, feel the wind beneath you rise Spread your wings, test the air currents as you glide Spread your wings, searching out the far horizons Spread your wings! Spread your wings and fly Don’t be afraid to try Trust in faith to be your guide And spread your wings and fly!
© 2000 Murray D. Little (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Mile after mile down dusty old roads A rusted old pickup, bad choices and goals So many evenings playing Legions and bars Wishing for glory, chasing my star.
I’m writing songs about things I have seen People I’ve met, places I’ve seen Singing for strangers a life that I choose Wishing the dreams, all would come true
I pass by a wishing well toss in my change I’ve wished for fortune, I’ve wished for fame Now I wish that you were here by my side But there’s no more wishes the well has gone dry.
The music has ended, the bar has shut down Sidewalks rolled up, everyone’s gone Wrapped up in silence, the moon glowing white Wishing an end to dark lonely nights.
Stare out the window, mist rising up A bottle of whiskey in an old coffee cup Coyote wails, I’m feeling blue Wish you were here, I’m missing you.
I pass by a wishing well toss in my change I’ve wished for fortune, I’ve wished for fame Now I wish that you were here by my side But there’s no more wishes the well has gone dry There’s no more wishes the wishing well’s dry.
© 2018 Murray D. Little (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Racing down the hill when he was just a child A little bit reckless and wild He tumbled o’er the bar, you van still see the scars It never once cramped his style
In a brown leather apron, worn with age Working in the smoke filled haze Drawing out the iron with the hot sparks flyin’ Forging tools of the trade.
He had love in his heart, he had kindness in his soul A gentle, hard working man Wearing lines, wearing lines Wearing lines of time on his hands.
Blackened with dust from the coal mine seams Or grease from the farm machines A blue collared man in a white collared land Working hard to build a dream.
Hard calloused hands have seen hardship and strife Felt the loving touch of a wife Comforted the dying, wiped the tears from the crying They have held a brand new life.
© 2016 Murray D. Little (SOCAN). Used by Permission. All Rights Reserved.
Late night in Jasper in a quiet place At the foot of Pyramid Mountain, an island in the lake Now when I cross the wooden bridge I walk into a dream You stand before me, forever seventeen.
Your eyes full of innocence and grace Your skin soft and warm beneath the lace Your scent still lingers in the air A reminder of all we shared.
Summer of Love, flowers in your hair Rally cry of freedom rings through the air Peace, love, rock n roll, psychedelic dreams Young and in love, forever seventeen.
It’s all an illusion of a mind growing old Sifting though ashes of love long gone cold I wonder who you are today? What might have been? My memories of you are forever seventeen.
Your eyes full of innocence and grace Your skin soft and warm beneath the lace Your scent still lingers on the breeze In my mind you’re forever seventeen Forever and ever seventeen Forever seventeen.
Merry Christmas Con
I hope this finds you well and enjoying the festive season.
You have been on my mind recently as we were recording Forever Seventeen, for reasons that will become obvious as you read this. In addition to the song, and likely due to the time of year, I recall a photograph of you sitting on the piano bench in the living room of your home on Cumberland Ave, Christmas tree in the background, holding a new teddy bear – I have no idea where that photo would be today!
Forever Seventeen is the first song I have written about you in almost 50 years and was prompted by experiences I had while visiting Jasper Park in 2008 and 2014. It was fall and the air was crisp and clear – we visited Pyramid Lake to photograph the Mountain from the Island. The moment I stepped off the bridge onto the island I felt your presence and thoughts of you filled my mind. These thoughts lingered in the back of my mind and sometimes in the forefront while I wandered around the island taking pictures. The moment I stepped back onto the bridge to leave the island those thoughts dissipated. I did not dwell on them at the time but found the experience pleasant if not a bit strange.
Skip ahead to 2014 and we are once again in Jasper for Thanksgiving weekend, it is colder, rainy with the threat of snow (which did fall overnight and cut our weekend short). In a brief respite from the cold driving rain we drove out to Pyramid Lake to get some fresh air and a walk around the island. The same thing occurred as in 2008 the moment I stepped onto the island your presence was there until I left the island. The rain returned and we retreated to the warmth of the fire in the Japer Library and read our books. Putting my book down to reflect on the 2 experiences and wondered WHY they happened – were you okay? I enjoyed a pleasant trip down memory lane and recalled visiting the Island in the early 80 and wondering if you have spent time on the island when you had the summer job at the camera store and looked to see if you had signed your name to the walls of the picnic shelter on the island … I digress … during my ponderings of the two more recent visits to the island I realized I was remembering you as a teenager and I do not know the woman you became or the experiences that have shaped you into who you are today. Would I still know you? Would you still know me? Do we have anything in common? etc … and this was the start of the song Forever Seventeen. It has gone through many re-writes to get it to this stage, the first draft, influenced by a songwriting coach, lies in the bottom of a drawer – it turned out not to be the song I had envisioned. I started afresh!
Rambling story … but this is the result is the rough recording below. It will be edited, properly mixed and mastered and will appear on a CD I hope to release in the spring of 2019. I hope you enjoy it.
With fond memories