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Unravelled Tales - Volume 2

by Sam Steffen

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1.
I'm Ready 05:40
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Went to see my doctor and he’s looking at my file “Your vaccines have expired, friend,” he tells me with a smirk He asks me, “How long’s it been?” I say, “I guess it’s been a while,” Then he tells me he’ll be right back—“why don’t you go remove your shirt?” Well I don’t pretend to know how long I waited in that room Telling myself not to fret, pretending to be brave By the time he made his way back I had made peace with my doom Forgot all about the needle and was ready for a shave (he says, “you ready?”) I’m ready now, I’m all set As I ever was, as I’ll ever get I’m ready now as I’ll ever hope to ever be again Good or bad or just okay I’m ready for it either way So come on—hurry up—alright already—give it to me, then! Rose was in her senior year when I started at her school Her boyfriend, Joe, was captain of two athletic teams She was nothing like me, she was popular and cool— the most beautiful woman my young eyes had ever seen Joe was always cheating, Rose would hear it from his friends So she’d recruit some freshman to do damage to his pride And once it was my fortune to be selected for revenge She said, “You ready for your only chance?” and I eagerly replied: chorus I took my darling out to eat the evening before last To celebrate our five year dating anniversary I was wondering how her day went and was just about to ask When she said, “If you’re going to propose, you’d better get down on one knee,” Well I had no intention of asking for her hand And told her so, at which point she excused herself to cry— While she was gone the waitress slipped me her old wedding-band Said, “I don’t need this anymore, why don’t you give it a try?” (when she came back, she said, “you ready?”) Chorus The night before our wedding my fiancé and I Got into a fight so bad we thought the plug was pulled She left the rehearsal without so much as goodbye I thought it just as well—my feet were getting plenty cold That night I didn’t sleep at all but I knew I’d been a jerk I called her up next morning but the number wouldn’t dial I went to see her parents, they told me, “Try the church,” I found her waiting for me at the far end of the aisle Chorus Well I came into some money so I thought of buying up a home Scoured the whole city, found one place I could afford I put the offer in soon as the bank approved my loan But the owner’d already promised it to some millionaire landlord When I knew that I had lost it I felt sort of relieved I remembered I’m a rambler, never lived anywhere too long Then my realtor called me up he said he had news I’d not believe turned out the seller had a conscience and he’d sell it for a song— chorus Well I went to see an old friend on the night before he died He’d been diagnosed with cancer and wasn’t looking at all well He’d just turned ninety-seven was paralyzed all down one side Said “I wish someone would have the courage to help me get out of this hell… He said “I was born in 1918 and I roamed this whole world round I was married to my true love, we raised a family best we could— Some are grown and some are growing, some are gone the way I’m bound But all things considered, I think my run’s been pretty good—” Chorus
2.
Good Evening, Reverend 08:34
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Good evening, Reverend—I see you’ve kept your promise, then You said you’d visit me—right up until the very end I hope you haven’t come to try once more to save my soul At dawn’s awakening, I’ll be swinging from the gallowspole Don’t ask me how I am, if you were me, how would you feel? Born on the bottom rung to be blotted out by fortune’s wheel I’s never counted-on, or expected to amount to much If I’m recalled at all, it’ll be as a no good such-and-such I never met the girl—her name, I’m told, was Jennifer Blessed with gorgeous looks, and fine, upstanding character About her qualities, I’ve heard countless people testify They called her “innocent”, and say “the innocent don’t deserve to die!” She told her parents, she and her friends were going out that night She told those friends of hers, she was going to meet a boy she liked She told the boy she liked, there was some pressing thing that needed done They all expected her; she didn’t show for none of em They found her ravaged corpse discarded in a park nearby Police found me there, too, drunk, without an alibi She had been drunk as well, and this, they said, was evidence The truth, however, is, it only was coincidence I couldn’t pay the bail; a lawyer, they appointed me He couldn’t pronounce my name, but in his defense, he worked for free They offered me a deal, said “Confess, and you’ll serve seventy” But I refused to lie; they gave me the death penalty I read your bible through; in here, Lord knows, I’ve had the time I paid attention, close, to the passages that you underlined I recognized myself when they imprisoned Joseph wrongfully And in Job’s lonesome wail, I found I’s in good company The thing I didn’t get is where it says that Jesus died for me, if that’s the case, then, I’d like the guard to set me free I know he won’t, though, tho he can quote the scripture, too he says, “When God made his plans—tell me, sinner, where were you?” And you know what the worst part is? The climax of this tragedy— That poor girl that was killed—her murderer’s still walking free Perhaps he’ll kill again—I’ve prayed for him to, more than once So that my death, if not my life, would be counted with the innocents I know I have to die, it’s something everyone must do There ain’t a man alive who isn’t only passing through The only difference, though, is that my appointment’s registered On the warden’s calendar, 8:00a.m., October 3rd Don’t feel you have to talk, I can see you’d like to comfort me To practice what you’ve learned in your school of the divinities If all the plans are laid, then what’s the sense in groveling? If you’d like to help me now, you can do the following: Tell my doctor there’s no need to send more medicine Tell my debtors that I already have forgiven them Tell my disciples my death is no martyrdom Tell my country I wish I could have been its citizen Remind the Christians that Jesus was an only son Ask the judges to consider where their power’s from Tell my story often, and when you do, please say “unless something’s done That this man’s tragic fate could be the same for you or anyone” Tell your followers if they want to win they’ll have to fight Tell the lawyers—calling it their job won’t make it right Tell your escort when you leave to please turn off the light— Good evening, reverend—I hope you will sleep well tonight
3.
G'Night Y'All 05:14
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Well the whistle is blowin in the factry, says the time for quittin’s almost come Everybody all at once they say exactly just what they will do when they are done Some say that they are goin drinkin, some say that they will join them for a few Some just stand around like they are thinking, till someone asks them, “How bout you?” I say, goodnight you workers and you dreamers And those of you less tired than you thought We’ll all get back to working in the morning But tonight I’m gonna sleep like it’s my job Well I walked down to the corner of the b-line, just like I always do to catch the bus Some women asked me if I’d like to have a good time, said, cause if you do, just come with us I told them I was grateful for the invite, told them any other night I normally would But as the bus had caught us in its headlight, I apologized and hoped they understood I said, Goodnight all you well-wishing ladies And to all the good-times you might’ve brought We’ll all get back to lovin in the morning But tonight I’m gonna sleep like it’s my job Well I rode the bus to where I normally go, half way there I must’ve fell asleep When I woke up I was in the depot, and I couldn’t find my wallet or my keys I figured that somebody’d gone and robbed me and I ran into the street to find a cop I found and asked him if he could help me, he said, “Actually, to be honest, probably not,” So I said, Goodnight you coppers and you robbers And you bandits who’ve stolen all you’ve got We’ll get back to our disputing in the morning But tonight I’m gonna sleep like it’s my job Well I took to my heels and I started walking, as home was still a good few miles away But I ran into a friend and we got to talkin, pulled me into the saloon and said he’d pay Inside they had a jukebox goin, and every face was one I seemed to know The whiskey like a river it was flowing, till at 4am the tender said twas time to go So I said, goodnight you drunkards and you boozehounds Goodnight steve and phil and chuck and bob We’ll get back to drinkin in the morning But tonight I’m gonna sleep like it’s my job Well I made it home just as the dawn was breaking, I felt like I had never been so beat Every muscle in my body, it was achin, I could barely even stand to keep my feet I climbed into my bedroom through my window, took off my shoes and pants and socks and shirt I eased my body down into my pillow, fell asleep right just in time to go to work So I said, Goodnight peaceful easy livin Goodnight goodnight’s rest I never got Tell those friends of mine, oh, if you see em Tell em that I told you—thanks a lot!
4.
The Trial 08:01
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The heavy rain it falls in sheets On empty cobbled lamplit streets Through which a desperate man retreats Hoping to receive the thing he’s paid for Beneath the tower clock he waits Upon his deeds he ruminates He means to flee but hesitates Trying to remember what he came for With bloody hands he holds the rain But whether his or someone else’s pain He feels now passing slowly from his heart into his brain There is no guessin A shape from out the shadow shows That looks to be like one of those He’s seen before and thinks he knows If only for the wryness of the smile It asks him: has the thing been done He throws the shadow back its gun With all the bullets there but one That was used to kill the meantime for a while The darkness as he begins to go Says: but what about the pay I owe? Don’t you want to hear me say what by now you must already know? Or are we even? You run from justice and you run from strife You’re tired of your ransomed life Like Abraham you lift your knife Obeying the commands that are provided You’d like to be somebody else You’d like to do things for yourself For consolation you can keep your health And hope the grieving soon will have subsided You believe in everything you’re told I’ve done so much worse for less than gold But tell me for what price have you gone away and sold What I gave unto ya? The portraits of the patriarchs Went overboard to feed the sharks You can hear the dog who cries and barks Calling for the master who’s abused him The soldiers sleep in tents in yards While the wounded nurse removes the shards Of razorblade behind her heart That got there who knows how or for what reason You’ve travelled on the beaten path As men before and men since have And you say some day we’ll both look back on this and laugh To keep from cryin The swallower of swords has said What doesn’t kill you will leave you dead Worship your heart and you’ll lose your head This is the only law you can get by on I ain’t the devil and I sure ain’t God But right now I’m all you’ve got So you can quit me or take your best shot Either way you can’t go back to where you came from You lent to me your traitor’s kiss Yes, and they’ll make you a man for this Tell me when I’m gone do you suppose you’ll miss Your old companion? The dice are rolled, the lot’s been cast You’ll take the present with the past The future’s not what comes at last The future’s what precedes the end of knowing The detectives organized the clues The fingerprints and the bloody shoes All the stupid words we used Trying not to get where we were going I know you knew it all along In the name of God, what took so long? For you to out and say that you’ve been wrong From the beginning? A story may have many sides An individual several lives But all were killed and one survives And I alone am he that’s left to tell it So gentlemen and ladies, here Of the jury, court, and everywhere Bring your witness now to bear Wherever the prosecution seeks to rest it And the next time that they come for you Be sure to tell them what to do You thought you laid it out and saw it through But you were mistaken The fires in the hearths are low The winter never means to snow The wind it never tries to blow But these things all must have their explanations Inside the darkened mouths of thieves Are rotten teeth and mustard seeds Tongues that keep the truth diseased And knowledge well contained by reservations And know before they aim and shoot You never loved me, you just followed suit Your eyes were only ever set upon the loot Of which there is none
5.
The Boomerang Song 05:45
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Once upon a long-lost time I knew a girl so fair and fine We met at a circus where I’d gone to see a show She was swinging from a big trapeze Dangling from her bended knee From so high up it seemed that down was the only place to go Suddenly a cymbal rang She pulled out a wooden boomerang Threw it hard and watched it circle all around the place She caught it in her teeth and smiled The audience was a goin wild In my heart a feelin came I had to give it chase Well after I had seen her act I couldn’t help a goin back I watched her every evening for two whole solid weeks The ticketman he learned my name When he saw me, he’d say “You, again?” Til finally he offered me the chance with her to speak My opportunity came at last My heart it was a goin fast It was after her finale as he was countin up his stubs He took me to her trailer car Knocked and said, “Well, there y’are,” She answered in her bathrobe and she asked me who I was (alternate) I met her in an open field Her name as yet, was unrevealed But her eyes, they spoke in volumes and her manners, they were kind She told me of her heritage While I explained how rare it is For any lonesome person a sympathetic soul to find Suddenly it began to rain She pulled out a wooden boomerang Threw it hard and watched it sailing whooshing through the air The lightning struck at it and missed She caught it, said, “Now make a wish” I said I wished where she was going that I might follow there Chorus: and in a sort of funny way you might just go ahead and say that I’m a little like that old boomerang you threw I make like I’m a gonna go And then I do, and fore you know Before I’ve gotten anywhere, I’m just a comin back to you Her hair was long her eyes were dark Had a face just like a questionmark For a time seemed like she only wanted to be rid of me But I behaved a gentleman, Fore too long we was like old friends Who havn’t got agendas or any special place to be We talked until the sun did rise Morning took us by surprise Her manager came by said it was time for getting on She said I guess this means goodbye She hung her head and began to cry I told her if she’d let me, I’d be glad to come along I followed her from pennsylvane From Portland, Oregon to Portland maine Through the plains of Kansas to the scrapers of New York a couple times I took the lead we quarreled, fought, and disagreed and every path we picked just brought us to another fork so finally we parted ways somewhere round the frisco bays she went towards seattle and I to Tennessee half way there I lost my horse caught a driver headed west and north who said, “This time tomorrow, Seattle’s where I’ll be,” chorus The next night I was in her town Askin for her all around Found a captain who had seen her hangin round the railroad track I found her huddled round a blaze Tellin stories of the hell we’d raised Somebody asked about her partner and if he was comin back? At this point I was well disguised Had my hat pulled low down oer my eyes She said, “if I never see his face again, it’ll be too soon” She was smiling when she said it tho I could see it in the fire-glow And when she was through insulting me, she took me to her room Next morning, at the break of dawn I awoke and found her gone The note upon the doorknob said “please shut me when you leave” Half-naked, I came down the stairs An old lady screamed and said, “Who’s there?” When I said “It’s only me,” she said, “I’m calling the police,” Well I busted right on out the back Never thought twice about looking back The thought to hang around awhile did not to me occur I ran down to the rail depot I hopped a train that was movin slow And was trying to catch my breath when I caught a glimpse of her chorus
6.
Justice and The Law (A Fable) 05:36
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“Someone’s stolen my property!” the store owner did declare Policeman turned the corner, found me standin there CHORUS: It don’t matter what you heard, don’t matter what you saw In the next world you’ll get justice; in this world you get the law I said I didn’t do it, I said it wasn’t me He put me into his handcuffs and threw away the key Took me down to county, held me there all night Wanted my confession, I said, “I know my rights!” Chorus They brought me in a lawyer, must’ve come straight from the bar, He said, “You don’t have to use me, but if you don’t, you won’t get far,” he said, “Why don’t you give up? It’s your only move! the truth is not important if it’s nothin you can prove” chorus we went before the judge and he said I’d been accused of murder in the first degree, I said, “I think you’re confused!” the judge he asked the lawyer, “How does the defendant plead?” “Your honor,” he said “Guilty—of murder in the first degree!” Chorus They gave me twenty years to life with no chance of parole Judge said, “May the Lord God have mercy on your soul” They took me away from my family, took me away from my home Threw me into the lockdown and left me all alone chorus my wife she tried to stand by me, she protested and made waves she had to quit the fight tho, she had two kids to raise so I wrote a million letters, and my appeal date finally came I tried a different strategy, but the outcome was the same Chorus the officer who arrested me will be Commissioner any day my old lawyer’s on the ballot to take the seat of the D.A. the judge, he ran for office, history turned the page now he’s livin in a big old mansion with a girlfriend his daughter’s age chorus our justice system’s overwrought; it’s just stopped making sense what good’s the law to anyone if can’t protect innocence? If I had to describe it in a word or two or less I’d say the American Incarceral State’s downright Kafkaesque chorus Pilate said to Jesus, “If you’re his son, let God save you,” Jesus said, “Forgive them, father, they don’t know what they do.” The preacher here in prison he says “the truth will set you free—” But to hell with his truth, it hasn’t done a thing for me It don’t matter where it comes, it don’t matter how The Law’s done nothing for me, I’m after justice now!
7.
The Solitaire 05:06
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The fire marshall, on vacation / called his boys for information But they weren’t at the station / They were nowhere to be found And the papers didn’t mention / the gasoline the place was drenched in between the garage and the engine / burning slowly to the ground And here I am again to say Here I am, which way’s the way Here I am—just yesterday I was thinking bout tomorrow Here I am—nearly spent Just wondering where it all went Here I am—a child, and reticent to grow into my sorrow The prophesy was written / Abraham bore many children then he went ahead and killed them / At the instruction of the Lord and so Isaac wrote to Ishmael / who thought the letter was just junkmail Live by the pen to die, still / at the destruction of the sword Here I am, still getting by here I am, and afraid to die Here I am—to make another try at this impossibility Here I am—barely awake Hopin I won’t make the same mistake Here I am, reluctant to ever take responsibility the criminal outfoxes the mandatory little boxes as he gives a brief synopsis of his life up until now Telling who and when and wherefore, and other things he’s been prepared for implicating others, therefore, without ever saying how here I am, on the run here I am, under the gun here I am—t’bring what I’ve begun to some kind of final end here I am, alone at last at least enough to think to ask here I am—but will the past still know me as a friend? Now I’m sitting at the keyboard / trying to guess at my own password The keystroke of the four-chord / sounding nothing like your name While the bells in the cathedral / so archaic and medieval Announce at evening that the weasel’s / brought the monkey to the game And here I am, still hanging on here I am, a little overdrawn Here I am—waitin for the dawn to be the answer that I prayed for And here I am—not getting through not knowing what the hell to do Here I am—like superglue stuck without the thing I stayed for And there’s nothing left to wonder / to take or steal or plunder You’ve succumbed, and now you’re under / neath the sorceress’s spell meanwhile somewhere music’s playing / and some listener’s obeying A recorded voice that’s saying: “please return now to your cell” And here I am, still on the ground here I am, to give another round Here I am—tho try, by leap or bound I just can’t seem to make liftoff And here I am—the solitaire the debilitated debonair Here I am—it’s not been fun or fair and in fact, it’s been ripoff
8.
Talkin NRA 05:44
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Went in to work first thing this morning First thing that happens, with no kind of warning My boss comes up lookin kind of fraught says he wants to see me today in his office at three o’clock Am I fired? I wondered Well I figure it’s curtains for me, I guess So I took the liberty of cleanin out my desk At 3pm I’m outside his door With a few other folks who work on my floor We give a knock The door opens… Inside there’s this crowd of people huddlin In front of em’s our boss, he’s explaining something He says, “…now I don’t want to hear no more of your complaining We’re going to sit through this active shooter training— And you’re gonna like it! Might even learn something—! He introduces the keynote speaker This fella dressed in Kevlar from helmet to sneaker He’s a retired cop and an ex-marine Says he’s here to tell us about some of what he’s seen In the line of duty The field of battle He says, “I was in Colorado in ‘99 When the call came through from Columbine; few years later they had me take a look at what went wrong at Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook that church in Charleston and the Orlando Night-club…” He says, “Nowadays you can’t be too prepared A mass shooting can happen most anywhere: In churches, synagogues, concert halls, Schools, playgrounds, dance-clubs, malls They’re happening wherever there’s people gathering, really The more the scarier He says “I wish I could give you a rule of thumb But the truth is, an active shooter can look like anyone They can be young, middle-aged, elderly They can look like you or you or—even me! Then he grins real big Pulls out his pistol He says, “I ain’t your boss, but if it were up to me You can bet it’d be mandatory Everybody in here would own a gun And would be well trained in how to go about using one Says he’s got one in every room of his house Keeps a loaded one under his pillow He said, “In schools now they’re given guns to teachers In churches they’re giving guns to preachers If it were up to me and I could get my say Every red-blooded one of you’d join the NRA And he pulls out his membership card And an armload of pamphlets About here he pauses and says, “Are there any questions? Comments? Insights? Thoughts? Suggestions?” There’s something I couldn’t quite understand So I waited a minute, put up my hand He says, “You there! Scrawny guy! Shoot!” I said “I’m sorry if I find this a bit confusin but if guns are the problem, then shouldn’t the solution—” He cuts me off like he’s all offended Starts reciting the second amendment Says: who ever said guns was the problem? Guns don’t kill people—crazy people do! I asked if he could define his terms a little The nation’s full of crazy people I’m no scholar but to me it seems it’d be harder to kill people if they didn’t have the means He said now you’re talkin crazy In America you’re free to buy a gun Go outside and shoot someone If you’re wealthy, white and affluent You can claim you did it in self-defense You’ll get away with murder, if you’re a officer— You don’t have to take em all away but to make a few more of em illegal might be okay I mean, does anyone need an automatic weapon for target practice, deer and rabbit huntin? Shootin pop bottles off a picket fence? And maybe we’d not need so much gun protection If the manufacturers didn’t make it so easy to get em And maybe there’d be effective legislative solutions If politicians’d quit taking NRA campaign contributions Hell, I don’t know It’s just a thought…
9.
Just Another Day 06:16
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A borrowed suit emerging from a rented limousine At an empty filling station, a mile from the red car-pet— The tank now overflowing, covers him in gasoline He takes a step back to ignite himself one final cigarette And while they pray and pray—even as the angels sing Their eyes they stray, when their miracle appears— Someplace else maybe you’d think to call it interesting But o, you know it’s just another day round here The girlfriend of the governor finally made it to his place When he got there, she was laughing with his wife who had made tea As a curious expression made its way onto his face She calmly said, “It’s a funny thing your wife here was telling me,” chorus At the meeting of the generals they’ve begun gambling with souls Disputing lines they’ve scribbled on a map that’s poorly drawn The leaders of large countries endorsing things they won’t divulge Til someone blows the whistle and turns the war back on chorus Running rampant in the castle’s vacant halls The ghost of Hamlet dancing with a goblet of champagne Candlepin bowling with the madame’s crystal ball Shouting slander from the parapet, prophesying rain Chorus Flotsam floating in the mind’s discrete mirage Reveals a keepsake stolen from a bookcase that was a door Later it will turn up in some framed-criminal’s garage Who will turn it over, saying, “I’ve never seen that thing before—” chorus Inside the Zone there are still many places you can’t go “There’s too much radiation” read the signs in foreign words You could build a mighty fortress with all the things you’ll never know If you hadn’t written off impossibles as being for the birds chorus the city hides an alley where a man holds out a cup he rings a bell on Christmas Eve, dressed as Santa Claus he’s dying and he knows it but he can’t seem to give up the thought that someone will take pity and give unto his cause chorus the hero from his armchair gazes at the frozen scene a painting he was given for his bravery in the war in the quiet of the lamplight he still hears the dead marines while his wife in the nursery shouts, “I can’t take this anymore—” chorus stamping passports at the entrance of the gate an official’s asking everyone the purpose of their trip: a man who’s fleeing circumstance, leaving home because of hate is told: I’m sorry, sir, your answer doesn’t seem to fit chorus Jesus on the cross cried out “Why has thou Forsaken me? Did I not accomplish everything that you desired?” God said nothing but someone shouted pityingly, “hey man don’t you realize you’ve just been preaching to the choir?” Chorus The asylum after midnight is an escalating plot: A wheelchair has gone missing and a patient can’t be found Someone’s dumped the medication in the nurse’s coffee pot Any minute now the fire-alarm is probably going to sound Chorus the tax-man’s come to gather up the store-owner’s receipts but he’s out collecting mercy from the parson, for his soul while the barber’s window takes a brick thrown in by the police the farmer’s out to pasture, being gored by his own bull chorus America the beautiful for all your amber waves of grain for instituting freedom with a rifle and a cage For perfect mountain majesties above the fruited plain For corruption, waste, hypocrisy, insanity and rage chorus
10.
Better World A'Comin (It's Already In The Mail) 07:48
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It’s 9am at USPS office #315 On Broad St, Philadelphia PA I’m half-dead where I’m standing but I’m trine to look alive I tell myself, “You never know, today might be the day—” They burst in all disheveled with their hopes out on a limb Every one of them surviving on a prayer They can all tell you the story about their big ship coming in But you’ve already seen the harbor, and you know it isn’t there— Lord knows, I hate to be the bearer of bad news But I’m afraid you’re out of luck again, today— I guess I’d hate me too if I were in your shoes— All the same, I don’t know what else there is to say… Mr. Pomerantz on food-stamps he got robbed again last night While sleeping in the threshold of a shop He was thrown out of the shelter for starting up a fight Though in his mind he was only trying to make the violence stop; He’s waiting on a new card coming from the CAO When it gets here it will mean that he can eat; Til then he’ll be on exit ramps panhandling for dough Shakin his empty coffee-can at strangers on the street Lord knows I hate to be the bearer of bad news To knock the wind from right out of a sail— I wish I could tell him something that he might could use: That your waiting aint for nothin— it’s all been for something— A better worlds a comin—it’s already in the mail Jane Finnegan is in again, still going on about How her folks are sending money from the farm They think she’s still in college, don’t know yet that she dropped out And took up a nasty habit that’s puttin holes into her arm She’s been in and out of detox, says she’s trying to get clean She can’t say it without drawing up a tear she says, “Soon as I get that money, I’ll buy a ticket for the train— to anywhere, I don’t care, long as it’s far away from here—” Lord knows I hate to be the bearer of bad news But it’s just a part of what the job entails I wish I could tell her something that could cure her blues… That some day she won’t be bummin she’ll be all through with runnin there’s a better world a comin—it’s already in the mail John Dixon’s out of prison, he walked here, ten miles, all the way He looks tired and he says his feet are sore The guards released him sometime early morning yesterday But his clothes, wallet and money all got sent out the day before— He’s in need of food, employment, and most of all, some place to stay His PO thinks he’s got somewhere to be Three months ago he got word his grandmother passed away She was his only living family, his only chance at staying free— Lord knows I hate to be the bearer of bad news To see a man caught tween a graveyard and a jail I wish I could relieve him of what he’s been accused That he could come home to somethin Better than a DA summons We got a better world a comin—it’s already in the mail Doug Hurley came home early from his tour in Afghanastan Where he went he said, to “be all he could be” One night he found a landmine planted by the Taliban That blew off his foot and ankle and his leg up to the knee He’s got a letter from the VA, says they couldn’t save his house Tho they appealed his case to eleven different banks He tears it up and says, “It figures how these kinds of things play out You fight to defend your only country, and this is how they show their thanks—” Lord knows I hate to be the bearer of bad news To lack the remedy for all that ails— I wish that I could tell him that he’s paid his dues— That his debts have been forgiven And he hasn’t yet been done in— There’s a better world a comin— If I had the answers for you, I’d be screaming them out loud I’d fight to share em with you, tooth and nail As it is I’m just the messenger with no news to lend right now— But I can tell you somethin— The machinery is buzzin— a better world’s a comin—it’s already in the mail

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released July 24, 2021

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Sam Steffen Boise, Idaho

Sam Steffen is a Pennsylvania-bred, Boise-based singer-songwriter whose songs are the torch-wood for a new generation of folk music that has learned from the best stuff in the tradition and aims in spite of everything to keep the human spirit alive and kicking. A versatile musician and skilled finger-picker, Sam is at heart a story-teller, and a prolific one. ... more

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Featuring Riley Pinkerton (aka The Rat Queen) from the theatrical NYC rockers, Castle Rat.
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