1. Sidealong (Based on the "Passa Calle" from Boccherini's "Musica notturna delle strade di Madrid")
And so the world goes spinning around
And all the ships sailing away
And all the somethings lost go to be found
And all the violins play,
And I am just the sidealong,
Summing up and singing a song.
So with a la, so and a fa,
And once or twice, a "Hey, nonny, nonny, no,"
I go about converting my songs of woe,
For I am just the sidealong,
Summing up and singing a song.
Fa la, etc.
The world, at times, has been called a stage,
And we, the players in the play,
But leading roles don't leap off of the page,
And so, all things considered, I'd have to say,
I'd rather be the sidealong,
Summing up and singing a song.
The world will not stop its spinning 'round,
The ships will berth back into bay,
And everything but I seems to be found,
But still, it is a bright day,
For nothing in this wide world will
Ever stop me singing a song.
So with my la, so and a fa
To compliment my, "Hey, nonny nonny no,"
With something like a spring in my step I go,
For I am just the sidealong,
Summing up and singing a song.
Fa la, etc.
2. Mr. Mad Hatter
Mr. Mad Hatter,
It's I.
Mr. Mad Hatter,
Do try.
Mr. Mad Hatter,
I know I do chatter,
But somehow, today, I feel shy.
Mr. Mad Hatter,
You say you'd like to know
Why I'm in such disarray.
But Mr. Mad Hatter,
You're what's the matter with me
Today.
And half the words I say will go in and out your head
No matter the stress or amount,
And so, the only way to know you've heard what I've said
Is to make every single word count.
You're ridiculous;
Overmeticulous;
The sanest thing you've ever said
Is that you're off your head,
But then, to my surprise,
You'll blurt out something wise,
And then, as natural as a song,
I feel I've always been quite wrong
Regarding you.
I have had suitors from here and there, you know,
Making their vows on bended knee.
I stop them from trying,
And they start implying
That something is muddled with me.
They flash a shining smile,
They say to wait awhile,
And then that butterflies and bells
Will spring from hills and dells,
And though they call all these
Eventualities,
I know the trouble's not with time,
Because they're always there when I'm
Regarding you.
It's unexpected, this.
I must have blinked and missed
What brought this change about.
But now, like learning how to fly,
Your madness, sir, is something I
Can never be without.
My dear Mr. Hatter,
They say you've altered me.
They say that you've led me astray.
They say that I'm crazy;
My reason's gone lazy,
And though what they think may have sway,
The only day that that was true
Would be the day that I was through
Regarding you.
3. The Gobo Song
There's a pink gobo over the sun,
So we drink lemonade and make fun,
Take turns to compose
A speech in bad prose,
And give it a tipsy dry run.
There's a blue gobo over the sun,
So we muse on a book of John Donne.
We try to transcend,
But then, in the end,
Just sit and divide Sally Lunn.
All across the world,
I don't know what to do to pass the time.
But every time I go,
The fact remains,
I still come back to see if I can stop you on a dime.
If a grey gobo covered the sun,
I would spray my hair into a bun,
'Coz I always say,
The time for ballet
Is best when the sky's moribund.
If a gold gobo covered the sun,
And unfolded a day second to none,
If you had the flu,
I'd stay in with you
'Til all of the bad was undone.
La, la la, etc..
And when a black gobo covers the sun,
Ev'ry smile will grow dim,
Except one.
For all other lips
You've long since eclipsed -
Do pardon the terrible pun.
So don't run and hide.
There's room by my side
And gobos to cover the sun.
4. Sunbathing in the Cemetery
The rain has come and gone.
The weather here is so funny.
The neverending strain
Between the cloudy and sunny
Seems so contagious.
I haven't got a clue
Where to go or what to do.
I'm sure that I could go
And take a ride on a trolly,
But something in my soul
Is calling for melancholy
To take me away.
Guess I'll hop into my car
And go where the sad things are.
And lying here among the graves,
There's so many wonders I want to know.
"How tall was he, and was she brave?"
Caught up in a concert long gone and long ago.
There may be tears,
But to my ears,
The tune is sweet.
It sounds absurd,
But take my word,
It's quite the perfect day to be
Sunbathing in the cemetery.
Ooo... etc.
I contemplate the trees.
I try to feel less eternal.
I'll travel overseas
And spill my thoughts in a journal
And run in the rain.
If my ghost has got to give,
Then oh, how I'm going to live.
And sitting here among the stones,
There's so many wonders I want to know.
It's hard to ever feel alone,
Caught up in a concert long gone and long ago.
With so much air, there's room to spare
For souls like me.
The trees are tall
And overall,
It's such a perfect day to be
Sunbathing in the cemetery.
Ooo... etc.
I will sail the world around
To ev'ry coast that can be found.
I will learn to say hello
In ev'ry tongue there is to know.
I will lose a biggest bet
And cause a man I've never met to smile.
Bap ba... etc.
And give my pence
In clumsy French
For all to hear.
Et laissez-moi entre les tombes,
Je voudrais savoir les histoires de les ans de hier.
La la la...etc.
Il peut-etre fou,
Mais je déclare:
C'est le parfait journée allez
Bains du soleil dans le cimetière.
Oo...etc.
Il pleut encore une fois.
Le temps ici est si drôle.
Special thanks to (in alphabetical order): Mike Avila, Christopher Bailey, Alyssa Boren, Marshall Ellis, Michele and J.D. Harder, Rick McKee, Rachel Smith, Tito Vazquez
All songs are copyright Sarah Michele Harder 2010-2011.
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