Later That Night

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Later That Night
Later That Night
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Genre(s):
Year:2014
  • Tracks
  • Description

Rod MacDonald–guitars, vocals, harmonica

Mark Dann–guitars, bass

Professor Louie–accordion, organ

Dan Hickey–drums

Mike Merenda–banjo

©2014 Rod MacDonald, Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

All words & music © 2014 Rod MacDonald, Blue Flute Music (ASCAP) except:

“White Flour” ©2014 Rod MacDonald & David LaMotte,

Blue Flute Music/Lower Dryad Music (ASCAP), from the book “White Flour” by David LaMotte (whiteflourbook.com);

and “That’s Why You Play The Game” by Rod MacDonald & Michael Lydon, ©2014 Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

Cover photo by Chiara Martorelli, Vipiteno, Italy

Art by Alena MacDonald 

Produced by Mark Dann & Rod MacDonald at Mark Dann Studios, NYC and Woodstock, NY

Lyrics

Hole In The Bible ©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

Somebody shot a hole in the Bible
They blew it apart from the back
They must’ve snuck up behind it
To leave it in pieces like that
Now whenever you try to read it
You have to quit where the words fall apart
Somebody shot a hole in the Bible
I don’t even know where to start.

Well now when you reach for the good book
To tell you how things ought to be
You pass the begetting and the killing
And the soldiers all drowned in the sea
Then you get to the part where it tells you
Everything everybody has to do
Somebody shot a hole in the Bible
Right there you can see right through

There he was minding his own business
Thinking there was no one around
When out of the cloud came a message “Behold,
I am standing my ground.”
Who saw why the shots were first fired
Who knew why the gun was at hand
Somebody shot a hole in the
Bible Please don’t let it happen gain

Somebody shot a hole in the Bible
Back when you were out on the road
40 days and nights of rain followed
Til the banks on Wall Street overflowed
When it was time for white doves to come flyin’
And the sun to come shinin’ again
Somebody shot a hole in the
Bible There’s no tellin’ how this will end

One More Heartbreak Song ©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

One more heartbreak song,
who needs it? One more
song for losing love again
I don’t even want to hear
myself sing it One more time
for the one who never wins

Who’s that guy who always
keeps saying Think of all the
great songs you can write
Maybe he ought to be the one
to live them Maybe he ought
to be standing here tonight

Darlin’ it’s not just for myself I’m asking
But for all those people who’d be
grateful to you If you give me all
your love and it ends up lasting
And I don’t have to write a heartbreak song for you

We’re All One
©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

It’s not just you who are suffering
It’s not just you who are scared
It’s not just because I was wondering
How many would die til you cared
You say it’s mental illness
Still you’ll sell anyone a gun
It’s not just someone else who was murdered
We’re all one

Somebody told you he was psycho
Somebody told you he was alone
Somebody gave him everything legally
The handguns and weapons he owned
If a semi automatic assault rifle
Is your idea of freedom or fun
Why don’t you just
We’re all one

Every morning the metal detectors
Run their fingers over your clothes
The kids learn to keep their heads down
In walks the man no one knows
Meanwhile the cowards in Congress
Do their sponsor’s bidding downtown
And remove all the gun restrictions
We’re all one

Imagine if everyone was packing
Imagine if every one stood proud
When the killer came to Arizona
Walked into the center of the crowd
Imagine if everyone fired
How many could fall all at once
How many deaths will it take til he knows
We’re all one

It was Christmas time in Connecticut
When amid all the sorrow and pain
It’s people not guns who kill, you said
As if washing the blood from your hands
And then seizing the moment to profit
You certainly turned on the charm
Arm people in every school, you said
We’re all one

It’s not just you who are suffering
It’s not just you who are scared
It’s not just because I was wondering
How many will die til you care
Say a prayer for the young ones of this land
Their elders are insane as they come
They care more for their guns than for their children
We’re all one

You’re Already My Wife ©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

You walked into the room my heart went boom
I couldn’t take my eyes off of you
With a smile so grand and a wave of your hand
You took everyone into your view
And I knew right then i would give anything just to have you in my life
And the best thing of all is you’re already my wife

You’re already my wife we can mess around We can be alone together
We can paint the town stay out all night long
We can come home whenever
And now that it's quiet, won't you come by my side
Ineed your love all my life
The best thing of all is you’re already my wife

Yeah i know what you’re thinking: what’s he been drinkin’?
All the lovin’ we did was so good and righteous
And so very delicious, that’s how we got these kids

You move through the crowd like the moon through the clouds
Leaving nothing but starlight behind
And if they would ask me, I’d say you amaze me
Looking so real and so fine
Well, if you’re dreamin’ of living the sweet life with someone
Who loves you near and far
Take a good look baby, ‘cause you already are
Somebody pinch me baby ‘cause you’re already my wife

Big Time Record Contract ©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

I see you got your
Big time record contract
Some magazine called you
A developing act
You must do quite a show, ‘cause you
Pass me on the street without sayin’ hello
Since you got your big time record contract
You got your people all around you
Everyone you go and everywhere you’ve ever been
And that manager beside you
He must be earning his percent
Tell me, are you inside or outside the fence?
Now that you can’t talk to your own friendsSince you got your big time record contract
Now some’ll love you for your video on tv
Some’ll love you for the famous people singing on your cd
Some’ll love you ‘cause you’re who they always wanted to be
Some’ll love you for the way you never let them see
Who’s there lost inside that big time record contract

Don’t Come Knockin’ ©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

Down below the sweltering palms, I had some money, I laid it down
Work all night, I sleep all day, in my little trailer by the way
My baby’s rockin’ it makes me grin
I hear you knockin’ but you can’t come in
Don’t come knockin’, don’t come knockin’
Don’t come knockin’, the trailer’s rockin’ tonight
It ain’t no mansion on a hill, on blocks and springs it’s kinda still
Most of the neighbors watchin’ tv, got a aerial on every tree
It ain’t much but I like the whine
When them springs get singin’ in double time

Got no gas, got no car
Bottle of wine and a cheap guitar
One thin candle providing’ light
This trailer’s gonna be smokin’ tonight
Maybe sometime we’ll save some coin, move ‘cross town to some rich man’s joint
Drink margueritas while the sun goes down, hire the neighbor’s kids o mow the lawn
That’s allright I don’t mind too much
Long as me and my baby don’t lose our touch

Joe Public ©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

Joe Public smokes two packs a day
Drives home from work on the interstate highway
After drinking three beers, cell phone in hand
He’s doing 80 in his oversized van
But Joe Public’s not afraid of dying
From tobacco or drinking or even his driving
He’s got the radio on, the reception is clear
He’s hearing all the things he should fear
Joe Public is afraid of al-Qaeda
They’re coming to get him, sooner or later
Joe Public is afraid of terror
It keeps getting closer in the rear view mirror
And all those illegals crossing the border
Crawling through the desert, coming for his daughter
Joe Public’s got a lot on his mind.

Joe Public makes 35 thousand
Has two kids in high school, trying for college
He walks in the door and their music is playing
He can’t understand a thing that it’s saying
But Joe Public’s not afraid that his kids
Will find the handgun where he keeps it hid
Joe’s afraid of the United Nations
Gun laws, gay rights and peace demonstrations
So he went to Home Depot, bought duct tape and plastic
In case the real enemy does something drastic
Like mailing him anthrax and causing a panic
Or requiring everyone to learn to speak Spanish
Joe’s ready for freedom to happen
When the government comes to take away his weapons
Joe Public’s got a lot on his mind.

Joe Public got asthma at 40
His health insurance costs more than his mortgage
The state stopped testing cars for emissions
Joe’s glad ‘cause he would’ve had to fix his
But Joe’s not afraid of pollution
Thinks less regulation is the only solution
And don’t get him started on health care
“Everyone knows that’s a socialist nightmare”
Joe's down with the troops, he supports every mission
That'll keep his gas under four bucks a gallon
But why do they hate us, he can’t understand
When we never ever did nothing to them
He can’t wait for the next election
To re-elect the guy who took away your pension
Joe Public’s got a lot on his mind.

Many Can’t Be Moved ©2013 Rod MacDonald (Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

Church bells ringing in the heart of town
Long lines of people with their sad clothes on
Schools are closed and the flag is low
People crying everywhere they go
Oh, but many can't be moved, though they hear the choir sing
They look into their neighbors' eyes and wouldn't change a thing

Black limousines, flags flapping on the fenders
The man who brought this on has no defenders
The whole world mourns the deed he's done
Sadness sings in the candlelit town
Still, many can't be moved to the church bells ring
They look into the parents' hearts and wouldn't change a thing

A flower floats down on the breeze like an angel in the rain
Non-believers on their knees struck silent by the pain
There'll be promises to the future: this time things are gonna change
It doesn't matter who can't see it, it doesn't matter who's to blame
And many can't be moved to see these souls take wing
They watch the children laid to rest and wouldn't change a thing

Raven ©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

Everytime I think of you it makes me stop and listen
Songs may come and songs may go but you go right on singing
You make a man feel bolder to see you stand so proud
And you look just like a raven, a raven out on a cloud

Take a walk down by the sea, the gulls and children yearn
For sailing ships out on the water, some never do return
And I will take you by the hand and feel the four winds blow
And you look just like a raven, a raven out on the snow

Chances come and chances are we do not linger long
Dancing down the water’s edge the waves break castles down
And I will take you in the sand as the sunlight fades away
And you look just like a raven a raven out on the gray

So you see I only stand here braced against your trust
Touching you is touching me I’d thought that feeling lost
And I will see you safe to harbor and if we never meet again
I’ll remember you like a raven, a raven out on the wind

Sleepless Nights ©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

There’s no music, there’s no sound
There’s no window through the clouds
All I get’s a restless, moaning kind of wind
There’s no flame, there’s no light
There’s no love in sight tonight
All I know’s these sleepless nights got end

There’s no smell of sweet perfume
There’s no magic in my room
And even my old guitar’s gone and packe d it in
And every bird out on the wire
Is taking a break from the all-night choir
All I know’s these sleepless nights got end

Give me love, any kind will do
Give me somebody to wake up to
And I won’t mind the night rolling round again
But the fire’s out inside my mind
No matter what I do I find
I just can’t bring these sleepless nights to an end

Think I’ll put my shoes on, walk a mile
Sun’ll be up in a little while
Maybe I’ll go to the river and not jump in
Newspaper blowing across the road
Just like me, another day old
All I know’s these sleepless nights got end

That’s Why You Play The Game
©2012 Rod MacDonald & Michael Lydon/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

Did you hear about the guitarist
Broke his arm in an automobile
They told him he’d never play again,
But he refused to take that deal
He had the doctors fix his elbow
To hold a guitar where his fingers curled
At 94 he was still one of the
Great guitarists in the world

That’s why you play the game
‘Cause you never ever know
What you can do til you do your best
Til you put yourself to the test
Then win or lose, you showed
You stood tall just the same
My little darling, that’s why you play the game

There was a woman who tried to go
To a school that wouldn’t let her in
They told her to just get married
Let men do the important things
But she’d earned her grades and she sued that school And to that school she went
And now that university
Has a woman president

There once was a champion boxer
Who refused to go to war
He said “I got nothing against anybody
I don’t know what they’re fightin’ for”
He stood up for his convictions
They declared him a free man
And that title that they took away
Well, he won it back again

When I was a young man
Someone said I was wasting my time
Trying to sing my songs for you
Livin’ my life in rhyme
Its’ true I don’t ride in limos
Or own a mansion in Malibu
But ladies and gentlemen
I’m singing this song for you

And hey how about that scientist
He was completely paralyzed
He had to speak through a voice encoder
That read the movement of his eyes
He could’ve wasted away in a wheelchair
But he had too much on his mind
He won a Nobel Prize for the books he wrote
One blink at a time

There’s always someone to tell you
You can’t live out your dream
They’ll say you’ll never be good enough
Never make it in that scene
You can work hard and take your chances
Or be finished before you start
And who are you going to believe anyway
Someone else or your own heart?

The Girl Songwriter
©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

The girl songwriter broke up with her boyfriend
She wrote a song about it, then her career began
The song’s a hit, the singer’s famous too
All over the world they love that song about you

The girl songwriter walked in the house one day
Said to the man “well, i’m on my way”
That song about leavin’ peaked at number two
She’s up on tv singing that song about you

You there in the corner drinkin’ a beer
You don’t even know the sound that you hear
Is the girl songwriter describing her fall
But the rest of us all see her standin’ tall

The girl songwriter loves to rock and roll
And repeat that chorus like the queen of soul
That song about freedom never will grow old
See her smiling face telling the world
How she kicked off the dust from her shoe
Whenever she’s singing that song she wrote about you
About you

The Last American Worker
©2011 Rod MacDonald Blue Flute Music/ASCAP

He was born in a land of plenty, served his country overseas
Worked hard to raise his family and have some security
He was looking forward to retirement, a little condo somewhere in the sun
Now they say we just can’t afford him ‘cause all of the money is

He’s the last American worker
And they’ve got him dead in their sights
They’re taking away every thing that he worked for Somebody turn out the lights

He invested his savings on Wall Street, now they’re worth 2 cents on the dime The boys who lost all his money got a bailout and a bonus at the same time
His house is worth less than his mortgage, he can’t make the payments anymore And the bank is talking foreclosure since they shipped his job off to Bangalore.

He used to go and see a doctor before his waistline got thick
Now his insurance takes half his income, still won’t cover him when he gets sick They passed a national health program for all the people to share
Now they say we just can’t afford it and gave a tax cut to all the millionaires

The Governor had a vision of the future: all the children in public school
Were staring at the same onscreen teacher broadcasting from Bombay or Fanjul They all memorize the same test answers, they grow up a nation of fools
And re-elect the same politicians who send their own kids to private school

He still votes in every election for God-fearing candidates each and every one They tell him they’ll end abortion and they’re never gonna take away his gun They go to Washington or Tallahassee, play the corporate ‘n millionaires game
They send his kids off to war ‘til there’s no money anymore
Then they tell him he’s the one to blame

To My Dearest One
©2014 Rod MacDonald/Blue Flute Music (ASCAP)

She was cleaning out some boxes one afternoon
When she heard a tune float in like an old friend
She opened up a book, and a page fell down
She opened up the paper to read
“To my dearest one: I see you found this song
Here where you’re looking round
And I’m a long time gone since I wrote this song
For you, only for you
I can still remember when we were young
You’re standing in the sun waiting for my train to come
And though I was a long time gone I knew I was coming home

To you only to you
We had a good life together, me and you
Oh the years just flew, and we’d both loved a time or two
But I can tell you true there was no one but you
For me always for me

If I could be there now I would give anything For a moment of that spring
When love was everything
And if I can say one truth it’s that I loved you And if there’s someone new
Well, that’s all right, too

Please tell the kids for me their daddy wasn’t wrong
Someday they’ll hear a song and they’ll know they belong
In a world where love is strong
Though I’m a long time gone
My love lives on, my dearest one
For you always for you”

She folded up the paper in her hand, then she tried to stand
Went outside to sit down, til the setting sun
Was a long time gone away, long gone away

Young Republicans In Love
©2012 Rod MacDonald (Blue Flute Music/ASCAP)

She looked in his eyes, said “I want to restore all your benefits
Build up your defenses, lower your deficits too”
He said “just as long as you never ever raise my taxes
I could fall for you”
Young Republicans in love there in the hotel restaurant
Young Republicans in love

He held her hand, said “I need a constitutional amendment
Life begins at conception, all children must be born”
“Would you make no exception,” she asked, “for incest or rape?”
“No,” he said, and she said, “Let's escape to where we can be alone”
Young Republicans in love workin' the bank of telephones
Young Republicans in love pale riders on the storm
Young Republicans in love

Freedom, he said; USA, said she; I want to invade, he said; said she, I agree
Then, he declared, we need to do some serious drilling
Let the oceans rise, she replied, can't you see I'm willing?

She woke in the morning and before she put on her dress
She asked “Do you still want to cut taxes and lower your deficits?”
“Oh yes,” he said, “oh yes,” and held her close
“I’m sorry we lost,” she whispered, “that’s what hurts the most”
Young Republicans in love making more and more and more
Young Republicans in love just say no to global warming
Young Republicans in love got no need for health care
Young Republicans in love

White Flour
words by David LaMotte, music by Rod MacDonald ©2014 Blue Flute Music/Lower Dryad Music (ASCAP)

The day was bright and sunny as most May days tend to be
In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
A dozen men put on their suits and quickly took their places
In white robes and those tall and pointed hoods that hid their faces

Their feet fell down in rhythm as they started their parade
They raised their fists into the air, they bellowed and they brayed
They loved to stir the people up, they loved when they were taunted
They didn’t mind the anger, it’s exactly what they wanted

As they came around the corner, sure enough the people roared
But they couldn’t quite believe their ears, it seemed to be support!
Had Knoxville finally seen the light? Were people coming ‘round?
The men thought for a moment that they’d found their kind of town
But then they turned their eyes to where the cheering had its source
As one their shoulders crumpled when they saw the mighty force
The crowd had painted faces and some had tacky clothes
Their hair and hats outrageous, each had a bright red nose

The clowns had come in numbers to enjoy the grand parade
They laughed and danced that other clowns had come to town that day
And then the marchers shouted, and the clowns all strained to hear
Each one tuned in intently with a hand cupped to an ear

“White power!” screamed the marchers, and they raised their fisted hands
The clowns leaned in and listened like they couldn’t understand
Then one held up his finger and helped all the others see
The point of all this yelling, and they joined right in with glee

“White flour!” the clowns shouted, and they reached inside their clothes
They pulled out bags and tore them and huge clouds of powder rose
They poured it on each other and they threw it in the air
It got all over baggy clothes and multi-colored hair

Now all but just a few of them were joining in the jokes
You could almost see the marchers turning red beneath white cloaks
They wanted to look scary! They wanted to look tough!
One rushed right at the clowns in rage and was hauled away in cuffs

But the others chanted louder, marching on around the bend
The clowns all marched on too, of course, supporting their new friends
“White power!” came the marchers’ cry, they were not amused
The clowns grew still and thoughtful—well, perhaps they’d been confused…?

They huddled and consulted, this bright and silly crowd
They listened quite intently, then one said “I’ve got it now!”
“White flowers!” screamed the happy clown, and all the rest joined in
The air was filled with flowers, and they laughed and danced again

“Everyone loves flowers, and white’s a pretty sort
I can’t think of a better cause for people to support!”
Green flower stems went flying like small arrows from bad archers
White petals covered everything, including the mad marchers

And then a very tall clown called the others to attention
He choked down all his chuckles and said “Friends I have to mention That what with all this mirth and fun it’s sort of hard to hear
But now I know the cause that these paraders hold so dear!”

“Tight showers!” the clown blurted, as he hit his head in wonder
He held up a camp shower and the others all got under
Or at least they tried to get beneath, they strained but couldn’t quite
There wasn’t room for all of them, they pushed, but it was tight!

“White Power!” came the mad refrain, quite carefully pronounced
The clowns consulted once again, then a woman clown announced
“I’ve got it! I’m embarrassed that it took so long to see,
But what these marchers march for is a cause quite dear to me!”

“Wife power!” she exclaimed, and all the other clowns joined in
They shook their heads and laughed at how erroneous they’d been
The women clowns were hoisted up on shoulders of the others
Some pulled on wedding dresses, chanting “Here’s to wives and mothers!”

The men in robes were sullen, they knew they’d been defeated
They yelled a few more times and then they finally retreated
And when they’d gone a kind policeman turned to all the clowns
And offered them an escort through the center of the town

The day was bright and sunny as most May days tend to be
In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
People joined the new parade, the crowd stretched out for miles
The clowns passed out more flowers and made everybody smile

And what would be the lesson of that shiny southern day?
Can we understand the message that the clowns sought to convey?
Seems that when you’re fighting hatred, hatred’s not the thing to use!
So here’s to those who march on in their big red floppy shoes

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