Peter Cooper Opening Day Much Better Now 0:00 / 02:57 Lyrics The waiter gig was probably the worst one. Someone was always asking, "What's fresh tonight?" How do you answer a question like that? It's an all-you-can-eat seafood place in a Springfield, Virginia strip mall. Uh, it’s freshly fried? by Peter Cooper(Well Known Music, SESAC, admin. by BMG Chrysalis) I used to live in Rock Hill South Carolina, South Carolina I’m glad I’m not living there still I feel much better now I used to teach at a school Verb conjugation, diagramming sentences Wore a tie and I felt like a tool I feel much better now I feel much better now I waited tables at an all you can eat It was not a buffet, you had to bring the food to ‘em Shoving fried fish at folks who couldn’t see their feet But I feel much better now I feel much better now I didn’t like kids until the day that I had one He’s a good looking boy, handsome like his daddy He cried at first and then he learned how to have fun And he feels much better now I feel much better now I feel much better now Opening Day 0:00 / 03:59 Lyrics A sad little song about hope. Cubs fans knew this one by heart, long before I wrote it. Peter Cooper (Well Known Music, SESAC, admin. by BMG Chrysalis) The odds are on the odds-on favorites They can kill you with their murderers row They got a young phenom, calling home to mom Saying, “Watch, I’m gonna put on a show” They can hit for power, they can steal a base They got a crafty skipper with a poker face They’re gonna race away with the pennant race Couple of breaks, we might take fourth place Couple of breaks All’s well that end’s well ‘Round here things don’t end well But we’re tied for first, with the whole summer left to play Fall breaks kind for the lucky ones Winter comes even to the champions Keep the aftermath and the epitaph Give me opening day I been coming since before I remember I’ve seen the pictures to prove that it’s so The season’s design will knock your heart out of line And lay it on you ‘til you’re laying low I have seen more big names than you could name I’ve seen a whole lot of dreams when they pull up lame Sad September, that’s a crying shame Won’t you take me out to the new ball game All’s well that end’s well ‘Round here things don’t end well But we’re tied for first, with the whole summer left to play Fall breaks kind for the lucky ones Winter comes even to the champions Keep the aftermath and the epitaph Give me opening day You know, my father was the first to teach me That my mother never understood That it is not fair, the deal ain’t square All you can do is just to try and make good You know the players will always change Mostly the uniforms stay the same Put your picture in a pretty frame Pass the mustard and share the blame Pass the mustard All’s well that end’s well ‘Round here things don’t end well But we’re tied for first, with the whole summer left to play Fall breaks kind for the lucky ones Winter comes even to the champions Keep the aftermath and the epitaph Give me opening day Give me opening day Give me opening day A Million Miles to the City 0:00 / 03:10 Lyrics Olive Hill, Kentucky - boyhood home of the great Tom T. Hall - is hard and lovely and isolated. A place to dream and to curse, to leave and to miss. Maybe other places are like that, too. Tom T. Hall (Warner/Chappell Music) Yeah, I remember it now We were kids back then Living down on the farm We were told that the city Could only bring us harm How far is it to the city, somebody said Oh, that’s a great big town Barbara said, “Why, it’s a million miles” And the story got around It’s a million miles to the city From the hills and the valleys we know It’s a million miles to the city And someday we all want to go There was a town nearby But a town is a town And a city, well, that’s something else Our daddy had been to a city But he never was much help Why, the buildings were taller than oak trees, he said But we knew better than that Ain’t nobody could climb that high The cities were wide and flat It’s a million miles to the city From the hills and the valleys we know It’s a million miles to the city And someday we all want to go Well, now time has passed And we have grown And traveled far and wide The cities have changed the kids we were We see it in each others’ eyes I’d love to go back to those hills again To the boy I used to be Where the leaves, and the wind, and the whipporwills Were part of the land, like me Part of the land, like me It’s a million miles to the city From the hills and the valleys we know It’s a million miles to the city And someday we all want to go A Million Miles to the City 0:00 / 03:10 Lyrics Olive Hill, Kentucky - boyhood home of the great Tom T. Hall - is hard and lovely and isolated. A place to dream and to curse, to leave and to miss. Maybe other places are like that, too. Tom T. Hall (Warner/Chappell Music) Yeah, I remember it now We were kids back then Living down on the farm We were told that the city Could only bring us harm How far is it to the city, somebody said Oh, that’s a great big town Barbara said, “Why, it’s a million miles” And the story got around It’s a million miles to the city From the hills and the valleys we know It’s a million miles to the city And someday we all want to go There was a town nearby But a town is a town And a city, well, that’s something else Our daddy had been to a city But he never was much help Why, the buildings were taller than oak trees, he said But we knew better than that Ain’t nobody could climb that high The cities were wide and flat It’s a million miles to the city From the hills and the valleys we know It’s a million miles to the city And someday we all want to go Well, now time has passed And we have grown And traveled far and wide The cities have changed the kids we were We see it in each others’ eyes I’d love to go back to those hills again To the boy I used to be Where the leaves, and the wind, and the whipporwills Were part of the land, like me Part of the land, like me It’s a million miles to the city From the hills and the valleys we know It’s a million miles to the city And someday we all want to go Feels Like Home 0:00 / 02:42 Lyrics Irene Kelley and I wrote this on the first day of autumn. Not the first calendar day. The first real day. I don't trust calendars. Companion piece to "Million Miles To The City," from my point of obstructed view. Peter Cooper (Well Known Music, SESAC, admin. by BMG Chrysalis), Irene Kelley (Shiny Stuff Music, BMI) You can take a trip, but you can’t go back Too many times, I’ve heard that It’s prettier in crowded memories Just today a north wind came Tapped my shoulders, brought the gray And a chill I know by came over me And it feels like home Though I’ve never felt at home there And I know That the winters were too long Like the wind against the shutters In a town I used to know Anytime it looks like rain, it feels like home You can change the present, not the past Too many times, I’ve heard that But days like these don’t scare me anymore There was a time when one blue breeze Would knock me down, to my knees But now all it does is open up a door That feels like home Jenny Died at 25 0:00 / 03:47 Lyrics I'd been trying to write this for a few years. Finished it just after sitting next to John Prine on an airplane that flew from Nashville to Baltimore. On Southwest, you can sometimes sit wherever you want. I recommend the next to Prine seat, whenever available. Several people have asked if I wrote this song about them. I tell them I hope not. Peter Cooper (Well Known Music, SESAC, admin. by BMG Chrysalis) Jenny died at 25, she'll tell you that today She'll even show you pictures from before she was this way There's Jenny at the beach, or with her friends out on the town There's Jenny with the smile that she keeps six feet underground Jenny died at 25, she'll tell you that for sure You've seen the walking wounded, well they're all one up on her You can view the body, but the soul is off somewhere We all still care for Jenny, but now Jenny doesn't care It happens to the best of 'em It's a shame and it's a crime You can die at 25 and still live a long, long time And no one screams bloody murder Or sings “Amazing Grace” Or wonders how you got that funny look upon your face Jenny died at 25, and it never made the news She got lured in by the rhythm, then got bludgeoned by the blues She was frozen in the moment, she's been frozen ever since She says that living’s dead to her, she says it’s self-defense It happens to the best of 'em It's a shame and it's a crime You can die at 25 and still live a long, long time And no one screams bloody murder Or sings “I Saw The Light” Or wonders if you're crying in the middle of the night Jenny died at 25, you should have known her when I'd give a grand to hear her laugh the way she did back then We had such a good time back when she was still alive Jenny's 34-years-old, and died at 25 It happens to the best of 'em It's a shame and it's a crime You can live to ripe old age and been dead a long long time And no one screams bloody murder Or sings “Amazing Grace” Or wonders how you got that funny look upon your face And no one screams bloody murder Or sings “I Saw The Light” Or wonders if you’re crying in the middle of the night Grandma's Tattoo 0:00 / 04:03 Lyrics Companion piece to "Jenny Died at 25," wherein Jenny gets resurrected as an elderly exhibitionist. This song has made for more interesting post-show meet-and-greets, and for some lavishly illustrated emails. Peter Cooper (Well Known Music, SESAC, admin. by BMG Chrysalis), Tommy Womack (Tommy Womack Tunes, BMI, admin. by BMG Chrysalis) It was a secret that she kept a long time But she didn’t take it to her grave There was a trip she took to Pensacola When she was young and didn’t have to behave There was a man who she had long admired There was something ‘bout his rugged good looks You know, she liked to watch him on the small screen And read about him in the comic books She said it was the heat of the moment She said it was the blush of youth She said it was the smell of the sea air And the taste of the gin and the dry vermouth She said it took about an hour A couple inches of black and blue Grandma’s Batman tattoo Close to her heart A private work of art Underneath the wool and the flannel No matter how she dressed There upon her chest Same bat time, same bat channel Holy toledo Something to see, oh But she always kept it hidden from view Grandma’s Batman tattoo Grandma was a real good grandma Grandma was a real good wife She lived a stay at home, turn my stories on Squash casserole kind of a life Grandma didn’t stir up trouble Grandma just stirred the stew She didn’t like to fly Never told a life And she never made a hullabaloo But there were nights she lay awake and wondered How come it turned out this way What happened to the girl on the tilt-a-whirl By the beach that summer day Sometimes she would look in the mirror Sometimes she would stop and stare At herself and her favorite picture Both looking kind of worse for wear Close to her heart A private work of art Underneath the wool and the flannel No matter how she dressed There upon her chest Same bat time, same bat channel Holy toledo Something to see, oh But she always kept it hidden from view Grandma’s Batman tattoo It was a secret that she kept a long time But she didn’t take it to her grave There was a family trip to New Orleans When she was old and didn’t want to behave Grandpa had been gone for one hard year We thought that maybe it would cheer her up To take grandma to the Mardi Gras And let her walk Canal with a go cup Time has not erased the memory We are hoping one day it recedes She said it was the heat of the moment She said she really wanted some beads It was the evening that we all discovered What just the doctor and grandpa knew Grandma’s Batman tattoo Grandma’s Batman tattoo Distraction 0:00 / 03:41 Lyrics Someone said something about being driven to distraction. I was shocked that they lived far enough away to have to catch a ride. Peter Cooper (Well Known Music, SESAC, admin. by BMG Chrysalis) The sun is never up or down It doesn’t rise, it doesn’t set It does not move from east to west It just looks that way from here And we are moving constantly But feel that we are in one place While hurtling through time and space Upon a little sphere You have moved so far from me While standing just a foot away I talk to you and do not say A thing to bring you near We are dizzied by the reckonings Talk is crass and silence stings I tend to tend to everything But what is true and dear Can you drive me from distraction? Distraction’s what I know Can you bring me to attention That’s the place I want to go She said, “You’re not here, even when you are here” She said, “You hold me closest when you’re far away” She said, “The things in front of you are rife for disregard” She said, “Why do you work so hard?” Why do you work so hard? Why do you work so hard? In old Cologne the schoolgirls giggle Past the bones of Balthazar A marketplace fills streets the bombers Cratered in the war Gray November broken Only by the pretty Christmas lights And rowdies dressed in blue And knocking back the football pints Storms out on the ocean But the plane will leave come morning I will stand in line on heavy legs And then fly across the day And I will land to find the messages And tend to duty, eloquence And everything but recompense And what I ought to say What I ought to say Is can you drive me from distraction Distraction’s what I know Can you bring me to attention? That’s the place I want to go Can you drive me from distraction Can you hear me above the din? Can you bring me to attention That’s the place I’ve never been Can you bring me to attention That’s the place I’ve never been Quiet Little War 0:00 / 04:04 Lyrics As I was writing this album, a guy was eating breakfast with his family in New Mexico and then driving to fight a war in Afghanistan, then driving back home, past strip malls and fast food joints and convenience stores. And maybe when he got back to his house, someone he loved asked him about his day. How do you answer a question like that? Peter Cooper (Well Known Music, SESAC, admin. by BMG Chrysalis) The modern day fighter goes To southern New Mexico He pilots a flying machine And everyday he comes back Coffee black, air attack Joystick and throttle And video screen And we boast of precision And cheer on the mission So clean now, so bloody before Thousands of miles from the battlefield Of our quiet little war There’s hellfire missiles Where once there were pistols To take them down One at a time Remote, remote control Push button, rock and roll Drive home by dinner And never you mind It used to be hand to hand Can you imagine, man? The bayonettes on the Normandy shore The waves were crashing louder than Our quiet little war Bombs away Miles away Over there, overhead Skies full of fear and dread Moaning a reaper’s lullaby The kids and the killers Mothers and sons The innocents and the guilty ones And one man decides Who will live, who will die Where’s the man who runs this show? Alamagordo, New Mexico Making the plane engines roar They buzz and howl all through the night In our quiet little war They buzz and howl all through the night In our quiet little war Part Time 0:00 / 02:55 Lyrics Kevin Gordon (Of "You need to be listening to Kevin Gordon" fame) wrote a song asking why the cure is always the compromise. I don’t know, but I hope it is. Companion song to "Distraction." Peter Cooper (Well Known Music, SESAC, admin. by BMG Chrysalis) I don’t regret my tavern days Just my kind of time and place Sweet as Johnny Hartford Singing “Gentle On My Mind” I tried to hold on to my slot I’ve loved a lot but I lost the plot And what I need and what I’ve got Got kind of misaligned Forty hours a week Howling past my peek That’s hard work, even for a man in his prime So I’m thinking ‘bout going part time, part time Probably gonna go part time So long on the barroom grindstone now And more fun than the law allows You won’t hear me disavow The charms of the neon night I must admit that I hate to quit I’ve been crazy for the benefits It’s a good gig on the face of it But I’ve been getting just a little uptight Forty hours a week Howling past my peek That’s hard work, even for a man in his prime So I’m thinking ‘bout going part time, part time Probably gonna go part time I hesitate to walk away From a vast array of pay for play To trade go for stay and night for day But baby, what you gonna do? You can shriek and yell or bid fond farewell And I don’t know but I hear tell When you hear the bell It’s not your death knell But it’s tolling, and it’s tolling for you Forty hours a week Howling past my peek That’s hard work, even for a man in his prime So I’m thinking ‘bout going part time, part time Probably gonna go part time Think I maybe gotta go part time I think they’re gonna make me go part time Great Today 0:00 / 03:16 Lyrics Did you hear what the congressman you've never heard of from the place where you don't live and don't vote said about the thing you don't have anything to do with? Me, too, and I guess I should be outraged. Peter Cooper (Well Known Music, SESAC, admin. by BMG Chrysalis), Thomm Jutz (Thomm Songs, SESAC, admin. by Bluewater Music) My friend is into politics She sits at home and sharpens sticks Says the bad guys make her sick They’re turning her hair gray Tells me I should be aware And if I knew I would be scared Wonders if I even care Look, I feel great today I don’t know what’s wrong with me I don’t know what’s wrong with me I don’t know what’s wrong with me But I feel great today It’s all downhill and all gone wrong From congress down to country songs I’m not gonna play along But I am not appalled The fighting mad and madly brave Are ramping up the rant and rave I won the war on terror, babe I ain’t scared at all I don’t know what’s wrong with me I don’t know what’s wrong with me I don’t know what’s wrong with me But I feel great today All the world’s a stage And rage is all the rage But I’ll speak my peace And never have to shout When they’re gearing up to fight You can love ‘em out of spite Or just sit back and laugh at all the clowns The protest I did not submit An empty old survival kit Doesn’t bother me a bit Anything you say I’ll turn a dollar to a dime Have a ball and pay the fine I’ll be dead a long, long time And I feel great today I don’t know what’s wrong with me I don’t know what’s wrong with me I don’t know what’s wrong with me But I feel great today I don’t know what’s wrong with me And I feel great today Birches 0:00 / 04:03 Lyrics Bill Morrissey's songs crackle like a birch log fire and burn longer and hotter than oak. He was great that way. I always thought his music deserved Lloyd Green and Jen Gunderman, so we made this belated introduction. Bill Morrissey (Dry Fly Music, BMI) They sat at each end of the couch, watched as the fire burned down, So quiet on this winter's night, not a house light on for miles around. Then he said, "I think I'll fill the stove. it's getting time for bed." She looked up, "I think I'll have some wine. how 'bout you?" She asked and he declined. "Warren," she said, "maybe just for tonight, Let's fill the stove with birches and watch as the fire burns bright. How long has it been? I know it's quite a while. Pour yourself half a glass. Stay with me a little while." And Warren, he shook his head, as if she'd made some kind of joke. "Birches on a winter night? no, we'll fill the stove with oak. Oak will burn as long and hot as a July afternoon, And birch will burn itself out by the rising of the moon. "And you hate a cold house, same as me. Am I right or not?" "All right, all right, that's true," she said. "It was just a thought, 'Cause," she said, "Warren, you do look tired. Maybe you should go up to bed. I'll look after the fire tonight." "Oak," he told her. "Oak," she said. She listened to his footsteps as he climbed up the stairs, And she pulled a sweater on her, set her wineglass on a chair. She walked down cellar to the wood box -- it was as cold as an ice chest -- And climbed back up with four logs, each as white as a wedding dress. And she filled the stove and poured the wine and then she sat down on the floor. She curled her legs beneath her as the fire sprang to life once more. And it filled the room with a hungry light and it cracked as it drew air, And the shadows danced a jittery waltz like no one else was there. And she stood up in the heat. She twirled around the room. And the shadows they saw nothing but a young girl on her honeymoon. And she knew the time it would be short; the fire would start to fade. She thought of heat. She thought of time. She called it an even trade